And if it’s not my kid, why get Chloe upset? But then what…I’ll just casually bring it up years later? Oh, I forgot to tell you that this chick I used to hook up with told me I got her pregnant. I didn’t think you’d want to know. I shake my head at myself.
The weekend. I want the fucking weekend, because I’m terrified that’s all I get.
I turn off the main road and onto the ill-kept street that leads to the lake. Only people who live along the lake use this road, save for the occasional tourist who took a wrong turn when they were heading for the marina. The houses with lakefront property are expensive, and I know the state of this road is a hot topic for them at any town council meeting. While I don’t like my poor car bumping along loose gravel, it brings back memories of coming down this way as a teenager. I had a Jeep then, and used to take Chloe to and from school along with Rory and my brothers.
Chloe always held herself with such grace. She faced her share of adversity for being different yet refused to tell me who was giving her shit. Mostly because she knew I’d beat the hell out of anyone who so much as looked at her wrong, but because she didn’t want anyone feeling sorry for her. She lived by her mother’s last words to embrace who she was and not let anyone make her second-guess herself. I admired the hell out of her for it then, and looking back now as an adult, it’s even more impressive.
Fuck, I don’t deserve her.
“Mmm,” Chloe groans and sits up. Blinking, she looks out the window. “Oh, we’re almost there.”
“What were you dreaming about? You were moaning in your sleep,” I tease, keeping a straight face.
“I was?” Chloe pulls my jacket down and runs her hand through her hair, pushing it back. She inhales and blinks a few times. “I dreamed I left my laptop out in the woods and didn’t realize it until I got back to my dad’s and it started raining. I was moaning?”
“Yeah, it was really sexual and hot. I had to rub one out while driving.”
She turns, one eyebrow raised. “Hilarious, Sam.”
“Admit it, you’re only dating me for the comedy.”
She rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed.”
“That’s all I’m good for?”
“Yep. And you’ll look good by my side whenever we get photographed and featured on TMZ.”
I laugh, and while I know she’s serious, the concept is still weird to me. I’ve had a totally different connotation of famous people in my head, and Chloe is so down to earth, so easy to talk to and, well, still so Chloe, it’s easy to forget that she’s rich and famous.
“I still think leaking a sex tape is the way to go.”
“I’m sure your boss would just love that,” she shoots right back. “Though I’m not opposed to filming one. On a camera with no Wi-Fi access, that is.” She leans back, wiggling her eyebrows. “Then we can watch it together.”
“Fuck, I love you.”
Yawning, she stretches her arms out and reaches over, resting her hand on my thigh, fingers sweeping over my cock. We’re only a few minutes from her dad’s house and a light rain is starting to mist down on us. It takes all I have not to speed.
“Really?” Chloe scoffs when we pull into the driveway. “Neither my dad nor Wendy left a porch light on. Why not put a sign out that says no one is home, come rob me why don’t you?”
I chuckle. “Living in big cities has hardened us, hasn’t it?”
“I suppose, and being a single woman in a big city has made me even more paranoid than I was before, and I always was a little paranoid.”
“I remember you calling me a time or two when your dad was working late.”
“Oh yeah.” She smiles. “Seventy-five percent of those times I really did hear weird noises. The other times, I just wanted you to come over.”
“I feel taken advantage of.”
“You wish I’d taken advantage of you,” she says, and we both laugh. I put my BMW in park and let my hand fall, taking hers for a second and lacing our fingers together.
“I do.” I bring her hand up to my mouth and give it a kiss. “I really do. If I could go back…fuck.” I swallow hard, refusing to let my mind wander right now. We have the weekend and then Chloe’s world is going to come crashing down around her.
“Hey, we’re together now.” She squeezes my hand and it’s in that moment I realize how much I need her. I was worried what telling her about Stacey would do to her and her alone, but I know, without a doubt, losing Chloe will break me, and even if there was a way to put the pieces back together, without her in my life, I wouldn’t want to mend my broken heart.
“This is nice,” Chloe says sleepily. We’re both naked in bed together, with the two windows right next to us open just a few inches. The sounds of the night filter into the room, lulling us both to a dreamlike phase. “It sounds just like the sleep sounds app I use when I can’t sleep, but better because it’s real.”
“It’s crazy how loud the cricket are.”
“Sometimes, when they’re quiet, you can hear the lake. It’s still most of the time,” she says, words spacing apart. Both exhausted, we went right upstairs, brushed our teeth, stripped out of our clothes, and fell into bed.
“Yeah,” I say with a yawn, running my fingers up and down Chloe’s back. Her head is nestled against my chest, and I have one arm around her, holding her against me as I rub her back with my free hand.
“I wish we could stay here longer than the weekend. Alone, preferably, though I do miss my dad.”
“When is he coming back?”
“I’m not sure. It sounded like they’re staying as long as necessary.” She shivers and wiggles closer. The breeze coming in through the open window is chilly, but we both want to hear the sounds of nature like this since we don’t get to in the city. I tighten my hold on her
“Did you think you’d end up back here someday?” I ask, eyes falling shut.
“Yes,” she replies. “I did, and part of me…part of me never wanted to leave.”
“Why did you then?”
“Mostly for work, but also because I was scared I’d see you, married with children, and it would hurt me too much.”
Her words are like a punch to the gut, like the universe is throwing me a bone by working this into a conversation.
“But you’re not,” she goes on, speaking slowly. “And…I’m…I’m…not.”
“You’re half asleep, babe. Go to bed.”
“Mmmhh,” she mumbles and then falls silent. I kiss her forehead and try to quiet my mind, which usually isn’t an issue for me. It helps that I’m exhausted from work pretty much five days a week, and tonight is no exception. I push all negative thoughts out of my head, listen to the crickets, and run my fingers up and down Chloe’s back until I fall asleep, not waking until the morning.
Chloe is up and in the bathroom down the hall. I can hear the water running and her coughing. The sunlight coming through the window is muted, letting me know it’s still early.
“Oh, hey.” Chloe quietly comes back into the room. “I didn’t wake you up, did I?”
“No. I’m used to getting up early.”
“Yeah, it’s only seven. I’m going back to sleep,” she says with a sniffle. “My throat hurt and I needed water.”
“You’re still not feeling well?”
“I’m fine.” She waves her hand in front of her face and gets back into bed.
“You feel a little warm,” I tell her, and I pull her into an embrace.
“I was all snugged up next to you, that’s probably why.”
“Maybe. Take it easy if you’re not feeling well,” I tell her. “If you have a fever you can get worn out or dehydrated a lot faster than you realize.”
“You’re such a doctor. I’m fine. It’s just a cold.” She coughs again and rests her head on the pillow. We both drift off for another two hours, and get out of bed the next time we wake up.
“I’m hungry,” Chloe says as we make our way downstairs. “But I don’t feel like
making anything for breakfast.”
“If we go to my parents’ now, my mom will cook for us.”
“Oh, I like that idea. Do you think she can make us biscuits and gravy?”
“All you have to do is mention it and she’d run out to the store to get it for you,” I remind her.
“Hah, you’re right, though. I don’t want to make her go out of her way, but biscuits and gravy sounds really good, doesn’t it?”
“It does.”
“I’ll make coffee and then go get dressed.”
I snake my arms around her waist, standing in front of the kitchen counter. “It wasn’t that long ago we were here and I was trying to resist you.”
“You did a pretty crappy job.” She whirls around in my arms. “Though I’m glad your resolve crumbled. Then again, I’d expect nothing less when I’m around.”
“Sounding pretty cocky there,” I say with a laugh.
“I…never mind,” she says and laughs at well. “I was going to make a cocky joke, but it would have fallen flat, trust me. I’ll just go upstairs and get dressed now.”
“That’s probably a good idea.” I give her a kiss and she leaves my arms, disappearing upstairs. It takes me a minute to find the coffee and filters for the coffee pot, and as soon as I get the coffee brewing, I go upstairs to get dressed as well.
Chloe is in the bathroom, standing by the sink with her hair twisted in a bun at the top of her head. She’s putting on makeup and looks adorable.
“You know I don’t think you need that, right?”
“I do, and I’m glad because more times than not, I’m too lazy to put on makeup. But I rarely ever see your mom and want to look good.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Okay. Because she cares and has never seen you without makeup. In fact, I don’t think you even wore makeup until college.”
“Part of that was because my dad wouldn’t let me wear makeup until I was fifteen, and then I was just really bad at doing it.” Chloe shrugs. “I’ve learned since then.”
“I still don’t think you need it.”
“Thank you. I’ve paid a lot for my face to look good.” She winks and then turns back to the mirror, finishing her makeup. We get ready together and then go back downstairs for coffee. The misty rain from last night has picked up speed, and we take our time drinking coffee on the screened-in porch, listening to the raindrops hitting the still surface of the lake.
“I could fall back asleep listening to this,” Chloe says, setting her mug on the coffee table in front of us. She bends her legs up and leans against me. “But I’m hungry, so we should go see your mom.” She looks up at me, smiling, and my heart jumps. Fuck, I love this woman.
“Let’s go,” I say and take another few minutes to get up, untangling myself from Chloe. We put our coffee mugs in the sink and head to the front door. Chloe gets an umbrella from the closet and opens it on the front porch. We huddle together and make a dash for the car. I hold the umbrella and open the passenger door for her, letting her in before going around and getting in myself.
“It’s supposed to storm all day,” Chloe says right as thunder rumbles in the distance. “Lovely weather, though I kind of like it. We don’t get too many thunderstorms in LA.”
“We get plenty in Chicago,” I tell her. “They come off the lake.”
“Along with that lake-effect snow.”
“You miss the seasons, admit it.”
“I do,” she agrees. “I love a white Christmas, though last year wasn’t it like forty degrees here?”
“I think so. I worked last Christmas. I don’t remember what the weather was like.”
“Oh, right. Emergencies don’t take a holiday.” Chloe turns up the heat as I back out of the driveway. “Is it sad to work on holidays?”
“Not really,” I say honestly. “Holidays don’t feel much different than any other day.”
“Now that is sad,” she quips. “I love holidays. My mom always did too. She’d say she’d take any excuse to get family together and celebrate anything, no matter how small. Halloween and Christmas are my favorite.”
“Rory showed me a photo of your house at Halloween,” I tell her. “It was a few years ago, and I felt like punching myself in the face when I saw it, because you looked so happy without me.”
“I think you meant that as a compliment?” She laughs. “And yes, I have a tendency to overdo it for Halloween. A few years ago, I over-themed my yard to look like a graveyard from my series and it kind of grew from there. Charles even dressed up like Marcus and helped pass out candy last year,” she says with a half-smile on her face. “I don’t get too many trick-or-treaters, though. Only those in my neighborhood who know about my over-the-top decorations. They don’t know who I am.”
“Is that a good thing?”
“Yes,” she says definitely with a nod of her head. “It’s weird…I like writing and having people read my books, but I don’t like being noticed when I’m out. And it wasn’t an issue until…” She quickly shakes her head and waves her hand in the air. “It’s not important. I talk about myself too much.”
“Good thing I like you.”
“I am pretty interesting,” she says sarcastically.
“You are, though,” I counter.
“Please. I’m not saving lives like you are.”
“I don’t save everyone.” I mean to say it as stating a fact, but it’s a rather sobering moment for us. I turn on the radio, flipping to the one local station Silver Ridge has. They play only country music, not my genre of choice, yet the DJ has been the same guy—rocking the same mullet—since I was in high school. We ride the rest of the way to my parents’ house in comfortable silence, making small talk about something in the town every once in a while but just enjoying each other’s company for the most part.
“Is anyone home?” Chloe asks when we pull up.
“I’m not sure.” The house is dark and there are no cars in the driveway, though both my parents usually park in the garage. “I guess we’ll find out.” I get out first, opening the umbrella before I go around to Chloe’s side of the car, and we walk hand-in-hand up to the front door. Several cats hang out on the porch, taking shelter from the rain, and Chloe bends down to pet them as I ring the doorbell.
“Doesn’t look like anyone is home,” I say after a minute passes.
“That was anti-climactic,” Chloe says seriously, rubbing the belly of a tabby cat. “And I’m still hungry.”
“Me too. Want to go to Silver Cafe?”
“Heck yes.”
I extend my hand for her. “Let’s go then.”
We hurry back to the car and make the drive back into town. My parents live on the outskirts of Silver Ridge, surrounded by farmland that suited us as children. We had all sorts of livestock growing up, from llamas to a draft horse Mason insisted on showing in 4H but lost interest right before the county fair. Rory showed him instead, and impressed everyone with how well she could control a seventeen-hand-high Percheron when she was only twelve years old. Mom named the horse Barry Manilow and we hated it then. Now, as an adult, I appreciate the silly name much more. We had Barry for four years before he was donated to an equine therapy facility, and he died at the happy old age of twenty-seven, surrounded by his trainers. It’s almost weird how much that sticks out in my mind when I had little to do with that horse. I was in the thick of my residency when he died and didn’t have the time to miss a childhood pet. We had so many of them growing up, anyway.
“Crap,” Chloe groans, wrinkling her nose. “It looks busy.”
We just pulled into the parking lot of Silver Cafe. The parking lot is littered with autumn leaves that got heavy from the rainfall and fell off the trees. I know just by looking at the soggy, red and orange leaves that the air is going to smell wonderfully sweet as soon as I open the car doors.
“A table for two shouldn’t take too long,” I tell her, finding a spot at the back of the parking lot. I put my arm around her and hold the umbrella over us b
oth as we walk. The rain is slowing now, but the thunder booming overhead lets us know the storm is far from over.
“Are you cold?” I ask Chloe when we get into the waiting area of the restaurant. I already gave our name, and we have a short wait time, thankfully.
“I am. That rain went right through me.” She shivers and wraps her arms around herself. I’m wearing a long-sleeved Henley shirt with no jacket. If I had one, I’d take it off and give it to her. Chloe is dressed in black leggings and an off-the-shoulder gray sweater. She’s not wearing a bra, and the faint outlines of her nipples through the thick fabric are doing bad things to me.
“Come here, babe,” I say and wrap my arms around her.
“Mmhhh, you’re so warm,” she says, and steps closer. We could stand like this until the hostess calls my name, and I’d be perfectly happy with it.
“Sam?” someone else calls instead. Both Chloe and I look up and see a woman with short blonde hair standing a few feet from us. Her face is familiar, yet it takes me a second to recall her name. “It is you.” The woman smiles, sweeping her eyes up and down me. “Oh, and hi, Chloe,” she adds with a sigh.
Lauren. That’s the blonde woman’s name.
And by the way she’s glaring at Chloe, it looks like there’s going to be trouble.
12
Chloe
“Hi, Lauren,” I say, offering a polite smile, not that I owe her one.
“Wow, I’m so surprised to see you,” Lauren goes on. She’s looking at Sam, working hard to ignore the fact that I was just wrapped in his arms. “What are you doing back here?”
“Chloe and I came to see my parents,” Sam says and rests his hand on the curve of my waist. I never wanted to let Sam have even the slightest inkling of how people treated me during our childhood years. I think it was a well-known fact that I was an outcast at school, thanks to being called Creepy Chloe during all four of my high school years. He didn’t seem to have the slightest idea who Lauren was when we ran into her several weeks ago, back when I was trying my best to prove to myself and the world that Sam Harris was nothing more than an asshole…a walking heartbreak…nothing more than a bad idea.
Desperate Times (Silver Ridge Series Book 2) Page 10