8 Second Ride

And the clock starts…

Chase stood in awe, taking in the towering stone columns on either side of him. His gaze followed them up, up, up to what seemed to him to be a mansion compared to
the tiny farmhouse he’d grown up in.

Ms. Jensen—Jenny as she’d requested he call her when she drove them here—cleared her throat.

“Chase? Are you coming in or not?” She stood on the top step, hands planted firmly on her hips, obviously waiting for him to follow.

The house had been impressive enough to draw his attention away from watching her heart-shaped ass sway as she climbed the sprawling front steps, and that was saying
something.

“You live here?”

“I sure do.” The woman flashed him a wide smile full of perfect, bright white teeth. She descended the few stairs that separated them and planted one hand on his Rookie of
the Year belt buckle. “Now, come on.”

She pretty much dragged him up the remainder of the stairs and through a door big enough for him to ride a bull through.

The sound of his boots on the marble floor echoed off the walls of the front hall. He hadn’t seen a place this big or fancy since he’d been to a museum while the tour was in
New York City a few months back.

Taking off his hat now that he was indoors—he may not have been raised in a house like this, but he still knew his manners—Chase looked up the massive staircase
leading to the open second floor with its many doors. “It’s, um, real nice.”

“Are you gonna talk about my damn house all day, or are you gonna kiss me?”