Fate of the Fathers
Chapter 6

“I can’t believe I’m grocery shopping with a vampire,” Jenna mumbled, as she pushed the cart through the aisle of the store. They had only gone inside the beach house briefly to check the status of the home and supplies, and drop off their luggage, before heading back into town. It was late, and exhaustion consumed her from the full day of travel.

Chase tossed in a bag of chips and a case of soda.

“Really?”

He shrugged. “I need my fix.”

Jenna slowed to a stop in front of the coffee section. She barely glanced at the options, before grabbing one and adding it to the stash of foods in the cart.

But almost immediately, Chase pulled it back out and shoved it onto the shelf.

“What are you doing!” Jenna exclaimed, reaching to retrieve it, but he threw out an arm to stop her.

“Really, Jenna, that one is disgusting. If only you saw how they process the beans . . . You want—” he eyed the selection, before pulling one down. “This one. Trust me.”

She gaped at the price tag listed next to the item. “It’s like twice the price!”

He just shrugged and turned to browse another section.

So, maybe shopping with a four-hundred-year-old vampire was not as exciting as she’d thought it would be. In fact, she was beginning to grow quite irritated about it.

“I’m not four hundred!” Chase said over his shoulder.

Jenna ran to catch up, gripping the cart handles. “How the hell do you keep doing that?”

“What?”

She motioned to her head. “The thing where you read my fucking mind.” Oh god. If he was reading her mind, then . . . Oh god, oh god, oh god! She had definitely been ogling his ass as they walked into the store.

Chase smirked, enjoying her obvious discomfort, so she swatted his tattooed arm and said, “Stay out of my head, Brosnan.”

Back at the beach house, they hauled the groceries and supplies in through the side door, entering the kitchen.

“It would be faster if I was parked in the garage,” Chase grumbled, lugging in two bags and putting them on the counter. He had been convinced that his truck would fit in the garage and Jenna disagreed, pointing out that it was jacked up.

Although the house was three stories, it wasn’t large. It sat on a steep hill with a vacant lot to the south. A single car garage rested at the end of the driveway, making the main entrance around the southside of the house. A wooden planked deck made up most of the walkway.

Jenna was on her way back to the house with more grocery bags, when she eyed the planter boxes along the railing, remembering the vibrant flowers that her mom had once planted every spring. Now they sat barren and empty beneath the glow of the porch light.

Below her, waves crashed on the beach, shadowed in the darkness. She couldn’t see them, but she didn’t have to; it was a painting engraved in her mind. Just like the cold, wet wind that swept off the Pacific Ocean and tousled her hair as she breathed in the scent of salt and musk.

She was a fool for thinking she could handle this; handle being here. The memories crushed her, squeezing her insides until she thought she’d give in and let them overtake her.

She barely noticed when the bags toppled to the deck. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the images of her parents in her mind. And Chase’s words echoing over and over.

Murdered . . . Murdered . . . Murdered.

The more it echoed, the tighter the unseen fist squeezed inside her. She was shaking . . . gasping. Terror, fear, and pain intertwined and spread until she couldn’t see through them or past them.

That was how Chase found her; bent over, panting, and grasping her middle.

“Jenna? What’s going . . . Fuck!”

And then he had his arms around her, hauling her inside. He settled on the couch, holding her as she shook.

She felt his warmth, the way his voice soothed. Even after the shaking subsided, she let him hold her.

A clock ticked slowly in the corner of the room. Wind howled around the row of windows facing the beach; the distant roar of waves a melodious sonnet, caressing the air around them.

She finally let out the breath she had been holding from the moment they arrived in Lincoln City. Chase had said she didn’t need to do this alone. He was here, wasn’t he? Holding her as though he had nothing else better to do.

She relaxed her head onto his shoulder and felt the answering squeeze of his arm around her.

She had thought this place would break her. Maybe it would have if she was alone. But she wasn’t.

Chase tugged the throw blanket from behind them, draping it over her shoulder and waist. Then he said, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She would have to face the facts eventually, but for now, she wanted to enjoy the quiet and comfort.

He eased forward, snatching a TV remote off the coffee table. Moments later, a reality show played out before them on the screen.

It was then that Jenna realized she hadn’t thought about running once that day.

She awoke alone on the couch, sunlight glinting in between the slats of the blinds. Pushing the throw aside, she stood, shakily, and made her way to the kitchen. Fumbling for the coffee grounds and filters purchased just last night, she threw everything in the pot; filled it to the brim with water and turned it on.

Chase might yell at her later for not measuring it out, but she didn’t care. It was all caffeine.

Speaking of the vampire . . .

Jenna realized the house was quiet, save for the muted, rhythmic crashing of the waves down on the beach. She checked the alarm status and saw that it was set. Either Chase was sleeping in one of the other rooms, or he had slipped out, resetting the alarm behind him.

She honestly didn’t expect him to stay here at all. They hadn’t discussed lodging arrangements, other than all the food and snacks he had contributed the previous night while grocery shopping. From what she could see, it all remained in the kitchen.

Including a box of original glazed donuts.

Fuck yes.

As the coffee pot beeped, she poured a cup, topped it with creamer, and then snagged a donut. It almost reminded her of Sunday morning with Dwayne and June.

Except she was seemingly alone; in a house that she never thought she would set foot in again.

She disabled the alarm, before walking across the living room and peeling back the blinds of the glass door. Opening it, she stepped onto the deck that overlooked the beach. Two wooden deck chairs sat, covered in salted mist and rainwater. She wondered briefly, if it had been her or her parents who sat in them last.

The May air was brisk, and she realized too late that a sweater or jacket would have been ideal, instead of the tee-shirt and jeans she still wore from the day before. But she leaned across the railing, letting the warmth from the coffee cup soak through her palm and fingers.

She took in the sight of the Pacific Ocean in all its grandeur, as she sipped on the hot beverage and nibbled small bites of her donut, savoring the taste of the sugary dough and nutty, caramel flavors of the coffee.

She would never admit it to him, but Chase had been right in his selection of the roast.

Wave after wave crashed onto the beach, sliding up the sand where it turned to foam, leaving behind pieces of driftwood and kelp.

When she couldn’t stand the cold wind anymore, sweeping off the ocean, she slipped back into the house and made her way to the bathroom.

Minutes later, she had grabbed the necessary items from her suitcase and had the hot water blasting in the shower. Still no sign of Chase, but she had his phone number and would touch base later with him. There was no need for him to be here for the packing and cleaning anyway. That task fell on her.

She sighed at the thought, letting the hot water pound into the tight muscles of her neck and shoulders. Sleeping on the couch had probably contributed to the lingering stiffness in her body, but she realized that the pain was better in her ankle. Another day or two and she would be back to normal.

Lathering the soap in her hands, she ran it across her body; the gel was smooth and silky between her fingers. Her hands slowed as she delved over the hardening nipples of her breasts, taking her time as she massaged them gently. Then she slipped one hand lower, over her stomach, and down between her legs.

She leaned against the shower wall as the sensations stirred inside her; waves of pleasure pulsing as she circled her fingers over the sensitive bud.

She could have stayed there forever, under the torrent of hot water and rising steam.

A noise from outside the bathroom had her pause, fingers still at her clit, the pressure firm.

It was too late though: her orgasm rippled through her. She couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, as her knees buckled, and she fell back against the wall.

“Jenna, you okay in there?”

The water that pounded into her back might as well have turned cold as the ocean outside. Jenna gritted her teeth as the sensitive sensations of the orgasm subsided and wondered if she should ignore him or storm out there, dripping wet, and punch him.

Instead, she said, “Go away!”

“Thanks for making coffee,” Chase said, and Jenna could swear he opened the bathroom door wider.

She peered around the edge of the shower curtain to see him leaning against the door frame, smirking at her.

“That door was closed.”

Chase shrugged. “It wasn’t locked.” He took a sip from the mug in his hands. “Besides, you sounded in pain. Had to make sure you were okay.”

She arched an eyebrow. “And maybe you’re not a vampire, because with supernatural hearing, you would have known I was perfectly fine.” She ended with a glare in his direction as she swatted the curtain back into place. “Shut the door on your way out! We’ll discuss boundaries when I’m done.”

“Done doing . . . what, exactly?”

“I said, go away!”

She was relieved when she heard the door close with a gentle thud. She definitely would be locking the doors from now on.

But then thought, was it really that bad that a super-hot guy was in her house, and she was horny as fuck?

She’d think more about that later.