Page 60 of The Convict Gets His Girl

She waved to the couch he'd just vacated. "Sure, have a seat. Are you ready to spit it out?"

He tilted his head to silently ask what she meant.

She smiled, but simply asked, "What's on your mind?"

He sighed and sank onto the couch, spilling everything that had happened the past few months. From the fight with Hunter to Jewel coming home to their kiss to rescuing the dog and holding her in bed to her rejection and running away. Then the fear surrounding his mom being kicked, having surgery, losing the horse and foal, and Hunter's devastation and his own inadequacy to help. And finally to his one, steamy night with Jewel and how they'd not talked since then.

His voice was hoarse as he finished, but he already felt lighter to have gotten it all out. She handed him a cold bottle of water, and he chugged it as she talked softly.

"You can't control others' reactions to you. Life would be easier if we could. But you're doing the right things for the right reasons, Chase."

He finished the water and crushed the bottle, fiddling with the plastic. "I don't know, maybe this is what I needed to finally move on, instead of wondering what could've been. Maybe one last hurrah of a goodbye is what I needed to leave the past in the past."

She nodded but didn't say anything, letting him think through his emotions. Finally, she asked, "If she were willing, would you pursue her romantically?"

"Yes," he said, not even thinking about it. He blinked, not sure why his immediate response surprised him. He'd always wanted Jewel. He frowned and crossed his arms defensively. "Maybe I scared her off with our sex fest. Maybe I did something wrong, and she just doesn't know how to tell me…"

"Do you really believe that's a possibility?"

He shook his head. "Not really. Even all those years ago, she was very vocal about what she liked and didn't. But I've always felt like we had more, that it had the potential to be the type of love like my parents and grandparents had."

"I admire that you're not trying to push her for more," Tasha said, taking her glasses off and rubbing the bridge of her nose. "But neither should you lose hope. Maybe things will change once you get the DNA results?"

He rolled his shoulders and tossed the bottle in the trash as he stood. "Maybe, but I don't want her to take a chance on me just because I'm the father of her child, you know?"

"I think that's fair. The unknown is a stress inducer, and all of you might need to rip off that Band-Aid so you can deal with whatever the truth is. Procrastination isn't always the healthy thing to do. Those test results can't come fast enough."

"You're telling me." He winced and nodded. "For now all I can do is move into the new house and talk to my parents… then I'll find out if I'm a dad. I'll have to worry about Jewel later."

Tasha stood too and looked up at him, shaking her head. "If she walks away from you, it's her loss. Despite being a convict, you're a catch, Chase."

He snorted and turned to the door, but her hand on his arm stopped him. She looked up through her glasses, her gaze earnest. "Speaking as a healthy red-blooded woman, you're walking sin on a stick. Speaking as a human who craves security, you have more to offer than most. Speaking as your therapist, you've grown so much in the past year, and I couldn't be prouder."

"Grown? How so?" he asked with a frown.

She smiled and let her hand drop. "You're no longer shutting yourself up in the cabin but are thinking about relationships. Your parents, Hunter, a potential daughter, and now a potential partner in life. These are amazing strides, leaps and bounds really."

His shoulders hunched at the mention of holing up in the cabin, because that was exactly what he'd done. But then he grinned and put his baseball cap back on as he reached for the door. "Well, I always was an overachiever."

She laughed as he walked out the door and back to his horse. He was more relaxed as he rode to the grocery store in the center of town. Their therapy sessions were in the afternoon to accommodate Tasha's schedule at the school, but he needed to grab groceries before going home to his little cabin.

He frowned as he stopped at a stoplight, waiting for it to change. He pulled out his phone and swiped to the right number, calling Jade, the local realtor, while he rode to the store to see if they could move up the closing date.

When he pulled Gladys into the shade beside the grocery store, he had a game plan for when he'd sign the papers and go to Denton to buy furniture. With renewed confidence, he tied his horse to a light pole. He needed to add a bag of apples for Gladys to his shopping list. With a swipe at the sweat on his brow, he removed his sunglasses and stepped inside.

ChapterTwenty-Two

Chase's boots echoed against the linoleum as he navigated the grocery aisles, list in hand. It was supposed to be a simple in-and-out mission—grab what he needed and head back to the seclusion of the ranch.

As he turned into the baking aisle, the shrill cries of children pierced the mundane symphony of shopping carts and checkout beeps. Chase cringed, recognizing the cry. He grabbed the package of cornbread mix and slid it into his handheld basket.

At the end of the aisle, he turned toward the produce section. There, amidst a toppled display of oranges, was Holly, her face flushed with the effort of wrangling Freddi and Eddie. The twins, mirroring each other in both appearance and temper, were in full meltdown mode, strapped into the double child cart.

She reached for Eddie, pulling him out and bouncing him to her chest.

"Hey, Holly," he called out, his voice tentative over the chaos as he drew closer.

"Chase!" Holly's relief was palpable, even though her hands never stopped moving, attempting to soothe Eddie while Freddi continued her protest against the straps.

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