Free Take What You Want by Ann Lister Page B

happening.

Chapter
Six

    Alex met Chase in the
driveway right at eight. His hair was still slightly damp from a
shower and pushed behind his ears and the clean scent of his skin
filled Chase's nose. Alex looked comfortable in his casual shorts,
dress shirt, and sandals and Chase couldn't help but smile at the
sight of him.
    Christ! This feels like a
fucking date, Chase thought.
    Alex
dug in the front pocket of his shorts and pulled out the keys to his
car and attempted to hand them to Chase. “How about you drive
us in my car?” he asked, pointing to the black Porsche parked
in the garage.
    Chase rolled his eyes. “No
fucking way,” he said. “You'll have to slum it tonight
in my truck, Metcalf, because I'm not driving a car that's probably
worth more money than I make in a year.”
    “ It's
a rental,” Alex said.
    “ Doesn't
matter. I'm not risking it.”
    “ Suit
yourself,” Alex said.
    Alex hopped up into the
passenger seat of Chase's Ford pick-up truck and shut the door. “It
occurred to me today while I was out running that I've been here
almost two weeks now and I've seen very little of the island.”
    “ Why
not?” Chase asked.
    “ I
was so burnt out from the tour, all I wanted to do was lay low –
for a really long time,” Alex said. “Plus, there's the
security aspect to consider.”
    “ Do
you get recognized a lot?” Chase asked.
    “ More
than I'd like to.”
    “ Well,
driving around in that Porsche certainly draws attention,”
Chase said. “You'd be better off renting a Jeep or something
with a lower profile.”
    Alex glanced across the
truck cab and smiled. “I see your point.”
    “ Most
of the properties I manage keep non-descript island cars year-round
in their garages,” Chase said. “Part of my job is to
maintain them, occasionally drive and service them, too.”
    “ Do
you like what you do?” Alex asked.
    “ On
most days,” Chase said. He took the turn onto Main Street in
Edgartown and drove down toward the harbor. “What I don't like
is having to kiss the asses of some of the ultra-rich that migrate
here for a couple of weeks a year and think they own the goddamned
place.”
    “ I'm
not much of an ass-kisser, either,” Alex said, “But, I
think there is a certain amount of it in every job – including
mine. I'd sooner kick some ass, than kiss it.”
    Chase
laughed at that and parallel parked his truck and stepped out onto
the sidewalk. Alex followed, doing his best to blend into the foot
traffic walking along the busy walkways. Even still, it was
difficult to miss Alex. His shoulder length hair with the blond
highlights and that dark goatee framing an amazingly sensual mouth,
toned muscles enhanced by a pair of knee length shorts and a fitted
button down shirt; it all made an impressive package. The women were
nearly tripping over themselves from gawking at him.
    Chase stepped aside, as two
girls bumped into him and then giggled at their clumsiness. “I
think you missed your calling,” he said. “You should've
been a model.”
    “ Do
you think modeling would get me laid more?” Alex asked.
    “ I
seriously doubt you have any trouble getting laid just from strumming
your guitar,” Chase said with a laugh. He tugged open the door
to the Wharf Pub and motioned Alex inside. “I didn't know what
you liked to eat, so I picked this place. It has a little bit of
everything on the menu and Cherries is right around the corner. We
can walk there after we eat.”
    Chase
watched Alex scan the interior of the pub and his face relaxed into a
grin at what he was seeing. He hoped that meant Alex was pleased
with his selection. He had no idea what types of places a West Coast
rock star like Alex frequented, but he guessed none like it existed
on this island.
    The Wharf was pretty basic,
as far as pubs went, with the typical bar setting on one side, with a
large hand-carved bar and well used wooden stools in front of it and
a scattering of dinner tables occupying the other. In the