Page 101 of The Convict Gets His Girl

Jewel rolled her eyes, but Holly laughed and came to the table.

Maryanne crossed her arms and looked around the room as if searching for something. "Wait, this isn't Ava. Where's the real Ava? What have you done with her?"

Ava snorted. "Ha ha, very funny. Can we get back to the planning? I'm not able to be as involved this year, and it's making me a little antsy."

Lola snorted under her breath. "Ya think?" Then she cleared her throat and pointed to her list, diving into the details and talking through what each person was going to do. The Halloween planning swirled around her, a welcome distraction from her own challenges, and she lost herself in the fun of it.

She'd not had a really powerful group of women in her life in so long. Her field was dominated by men—both bosses and clients. She was more comfortable around men, but these women had welcomed her with open arms and not a single snide comment among them for the choices she'd made in her past.

Slowly she relaxed, getting to know them better. When Taylor declared dinner ready, she went onto the front porch and rang a bell before coming back inside.

Not long after, the kitchen door swung open, and Bill, Hunter, and Chase walked in, dusty from a day on the ranch. Their boots left a trail of dried mud across the wood floor, and the scent of leather and outdoors filled the room.

Chase immediately gravitated toward Jewel, his movements deliberate and tender. He dipped his head and kissed her cheek, her palm going to cup his cheek as he sank to his haunches by her chair.

He smiled up at her, his hand resting softly on her knee. "Hey, Jewel, fancy seeing you here. Are you helping plan the party?"

She nodded, unable to talk at how naturally he greeted her, treated her.

"Good, that's good. I took the CFA test yesterday and signed the papers on the house today. Gotta wait on the results, but in the meantime, I'm going to move into the house. I can't wait."

His eyes shifted around the table and back to her. "Your glass is empty. Did you drink tea? Do you want water instead?"

She nodded, her throat closed still, and he hopped up and stepped into the kitchen. She watched him, thinking, feeling as the conversation flowed around her. He grabbed a glass from the cabinet, filled it with water, and set it beside her hand. Lola stacked up her papers, and Taylor served dinner on the center of the table.

Chase passed out the plates and napkins, and when he sat beside her, she was already reaching for the bowl of rolls. Chase quietly unfolded her napkin, placing it carefully on her lap, sliding his palm along her thigh.

She sucked in a breath at the contact. Each small gesture felt like a caress, gentle and protective. Jewel's heart fluttered and flipped.

Was this what her dad had meant about needing someone to truly see her? About having a partner who anticipated her needs and waited on her hand and foot? She wasn't some fragile damsel in distress who needed rescuing by the prince. She was strong, independent, and could do her own rescuing. But these quiet attentions from Chase made her feel… cherished.

Her breath caught.

Loved?

Oh no. This wasn't love, was it?

The thought terrified her, sending a tremor through her body that had nothing to do with her physical weakness and everything to do with the sudden vulnerability pooling in her chest.

"So, about the Halloween party," Lola interrupted, tapping the meticulously organized checklist beside her plate. "We need volunteers for setup."

Jewel seized the distraction like a lifeline, her mind grateful to escape the dangerous terrain of her emotions. "I can help with setup," she offered, her voice deliberately bright. "What time should I show up?"

The conversation flowed around her, a welcome current pulling her away from the undertow of her growing feelings. She listened, contributed, laughed—anything to keep from examining the way Chase's knee occasionally brushed against hers under the table.

By the time dinner concluded, the Halloween plans were taking shape, but the energy of planning had drained what little strength Jewel had left. Her head throbbed, muscles aching with a deep, persistent exhaustion.

She couldn't help the small groan that escaped as she pushed back from the table and said her goodbyes.

Chase was instantly attentive. "Let me walk you out," he said, not asking, simply doing.

Outside, the cool evening air felt like a balm against her overheated skin and heightened emotions. Chase's voice was soft, considerate. "I'm having furniture delivered tomorrow."

"All my stuff's still in a storage container," Jewel admitted, wondering how vulnerable that made her sound.

His response was immediate and practical. "Let me know when it'll be delivered to the house, and I'll unload everything. Once we get everything unloaded, we'll know what else we need to buy."

She winced, hoping this didn't drain both their budgets, but she didn't want to bring it up now. She was simply too exhausted. She unlocked the truck as she approached, but Chase's hand on her forearm made her pause before she opened the door.

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