Page 87 of The Convict Gets His Girl

Hunter's deep voice cut through the ambient diner noise, catching Chase's attention. He leaned toward their dad, their conversation focused and intense.

"The Appaloosa mare's showing signs of early labor," Hunter was saying, his fingers tracing an invisible map on the tabletop. "Thinking she'll drop her foal within the week."

Bill nodded, decades of ranching experience etched into the lines of his weathered face. It still surprised him how old his parents had gotten. "Ground's still soft from last week's rain. Good conditions."

Chase's ears pricked up when he heard Gemma's voice on the other side of Jewel, her tone carrying a hint of wounded vulnerability.

"I can't believe you didn't tell me," Gemma said to Jewel. "Imagine my surprise when a patient let the news drop that Chase was Destini's father—and you refused to answer the damn phone. I'm yoursister."

Jewel's response was low, tinged with a complexity of emotions. "I really thought Hunter was her dad. It would've been easier for everyone."

The words landed like a soft punch to Chase's gut. Easier. The unspoken implication hung in the air: she hadn't wanted him to be Destini's father. She didn't want him, didn't believe in him. The negative thoughts flashed through his mind, and he fought them with logic.

She hadn't actually said that. But the seed of doubt blossomed in his soul, and he shifted in his chair uncomfortably.

His jaw tightened, a familiar tension threading through his muscles. Hunter and Bill continued their ranching discussion, oblivious to the emotional undercurrent just inches away.

Lola's approach broke the tension, her crisp dress pants a stark contrast to the emotional landscape Chase was navigating. She leaned in, slapping a hand on his shoulder, a knowing smile playing at the corner of her mouth.

"Big week coming up, Chase," she said, her voice carrying just enough volume to draw attention. "Exam and house signing, right? On top of finding out you're a dad! Congratulations. I'm so damn happy for you."

Chase chuckled as Kendall came up behind his wife, hands in his pockets. "Thanks, Lola," Chase said, nodding hello to Kendall.

Ava's head snapped up, her curiosity instantly piqued. "House? What house? What exam?"

Chase felt the weight of multiple gazes settle on him. He'd never been comfortable with attention, a remnant of years spent trying to blend into the background. But now, he was different. Controlled. Purposeful.

He snorted, a dry sound that was more self-deprecating humor than dismissal. "The Certified Financial Planner exam. The board approved me to take it last month when I hit the one-year post-release mark."

The words came out matter of fact, but beneath them churned a current of pride. One year. One full year of rebuilding, of proving himself, of showing everyone—especially Jewel—that he wasn't the same man who'd been locked away.

Ava's eyebrow arched, her skepticism as sharp as ever. "And they're just… letting you take the exam? Just like that?"

Chase met her gaze steadily. Unlike before, he didn't shrink, didn't apologize. He simply existed—transformed, whether she wanted to accept him or not.

Although he desperately hoped she would someday. He nodded at her slowly as the table congratulated him.

"Haven't taken the test yet, guys. No congratulations until I pass it."

Parker snorted. "When have you ever failed a test? It's all but in the bag."

The table chuckled and nodded at the truth of the statement, making Chase's collar grow tight.

Jewel's fingers brushed against her water glass, a subtle movement that drew Chase's attention. Her voice cut through the building tension, offering unexpected support.

Ava rubbed a hand over her forehead. "Alright, so that's the test. What's this house you're talking about?"

"He bought the MacDonald place on the hill," Jewel said, pride in her voice as she beamed up at him. That look—did that mean she wanted to live there with him? He still hadn't gotten an answer from her.

The room seemed to pause. Ava's eyes widened, her disbelief immediate and pointed. "What? That place is enormous. Gotta be over a million dollars."

Chase knew the property well. Sprawling acres, a massive Victorian with white-trimmed windows that had stood empty for years. The MacDonald place wasn't just a house—it was a statement. Twenty acres of potential, rolling hills that caught the late afternoon sun like golden promises.

Parker nodded. "Yeah, if it sat empty for another two years, I would've had the down payment ready to go. It'd make a perfect bed and breakfast. Then I'd have the market in this town cornered."

He felt Jewel's sideways glance—part curiosity, part challenge. They were tangled up together like old, barbed wire, but he couldn't stop hoping that whatever was between them was growing stronger. Perhaps someday, she'd love him the way he loved her.

The MacDonald place was a chance for redemption, a future, a chance to prove to Destini, his mom, to everyone that he could build something lasting. Something good.

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