He hadn’t given the guy the address, though. It just seemed with him being a cop, he should be able to find it. All night, he kept his phone right beside him, thinking he would call back. Even a little worried the cop might just show up—guns blazing. Just because he hadn’t shot him the other day didn’t mean he wouldn’t jump at the chance this time.
But that was a risk J.D. had to take. Maybe it would even be for the best. When he thought about going to prison, he kind of wondered if getting killed wasn’t the easier out. He’d heard a lot of terrible things about prison from some of the gang members who’d done time.
The only one who called was Moses to tell him that Carlos was out of surgery. But when Moses called, he said his brother hadn’t woken up yet because of some swelling on his brain. The hope was the swelling would go down and Carlos would wake up and be okay.
J.D. started his truck so the phone would charge, and looked at the clock in the dash. Already noon. He shoved a few chips in his mouth. For some reason, he expected that cop to get in touch with him right away.
He might still be out of work, but if so, why had he been at that woman’s apartment building? Sticking his hand in the bag, he realized it was empty. He was going to need some food soon. But he only had about fifty bucks left and he was going to have to get some gas for his truck, too. And he needed to buy another phone card. He only had thirty minutes left.
He looked down at the floorboard and wished he hadn’t bought that hit of coke. He could probably sell it, but for some reason, he didn’t want to do that. He liked to think his days of dealing drugs were over.
Picking up his phone, he checked one more time to make sure he hadn’t missed a call from the cop.
“Why aren’t you calling me?” he muttered.
• • •
“What are you doing home?” Chloe asked, stepping into the coffee-scented kitchen, wearing her red dress and red underwear from the night before. Cary waited in her bedroom.
Her mom pulled her tea to her lips. “Your Nana had another of her heart spells. And before you get upset, she’s fine. I even spoke with the doctor, but I’m going to go spend a week with her. I arranged it so I could come home, grab some clean clothes, and make it back to the airport.”
“You sure I don’t need to come with you?” Chloe asked.
“I told you, she’s fine.” Her mom nodded over to the kitchen cabinet. “I made coffee.”
Chloe walked over to the cabinet and brought down two cups. One for her and one for Cary. “You should have called me. I could have at least picked you up at the airport.”
“It was no big deal. I was gonna call you before I left. Besides, I sort of thought you’d be recuperating from your accident.”
“I told you it wasn’t bad.”
“Oh, you still have a little bruise. On your rib cage,” her mother said.
“I’m fine.” She blushed, remembering her mom had seen her naked. And Cary. For a fleeting second, she felt like a teenager again, like the time she and that football player got caught making out in her bed. But, oh Lordie, she hadn’t done nearly as much with him as she’d done with Cary last night.
Her mom looked toward the hall and pulled her cup to her lips. “That’s not all that’s fine.” She smiled over her cup.
Chloe swallowed, not sure if she was more relieved her mom wasn’t upset, or embarrassed that her mom wasn’t upset. She wasn’t completely sure how her mother was going to react. Sure, she’d been pressuring Chloe to start dating, but dating and bringing a man home and having sex with him in her old bedroom weren’t exactly the same things. Oh, crap, had her mom seen the clothes in the living room? Did she know Chloe had worn her gown? Thank goodness she hadn’t let Cary talk her into using her mom’s bed.
“Did he jump out the window?”
“No,” Chloe said, but that had been Chloe’s first idea.
“Is he coming out so you can introduce me?” She looked at her watch. “I only have a couple of hours before I have to go back to the airport.”
Chloe nodded. “I just wanted to explain.”
“You don’t have to, dear. Elsie and Evelyn filled me in on some of it. Then I called Sheri and she enlightened me to some degree. And then the morning paper helped explain it, too.” Her mom pointed to the paper, and there was a picture of her bakery with the windows covered in plywood. “I’m actually thrilled that he wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Chloe nodded, hoping beyond hope that Sheri hadn’t said anything about her afterlife experience. Chances were, her mom would make a big deal out of it.
“Don’t make him wait. Bring him out,” her mom said.
Chloe walked to the hall and called for Cary.
He came out, looking way too confident, considering he’d just been caught naked in her mom’s house. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said, walking into her mother’s kitchen and shaking her hand.
“Believe me,” her mother said and grinned. “The pleasure is all mine.”
Chloe felt her face flush and wondered if it now matched her dress and underwear.
• • •
After helping Ms. Sanders get her luggage out of the car, Cary said goodbye and crawled back into the driver’s seat. He watched Chloe, standing on the curb, hugging her mom. Running his hand over the steering wheel, he tried to make sense of the emotions swimming in his gut. Happiness—he hadn’t felt like this in years. Leeriness—being this happy came with a price.
On the drive to the airport, Chloe had told her mom she’d probably be staying at Sheri’s house. And that should have been just fine.
So, why the friggin’ hell wasn’t it?
Why did he feel as if it was a slap in the face instead of looking at it as a chance to get his shit together?
Then there was the whole protectiveness thing consuming him. He’d already formed an argument in his head of why she needed to stay with him. But he kept revising that argument because a lot of the points he made weren’t so much about her being in danger, as they were just about wanting to be with her.
He needed to continue to pull back Chloe Sanders’ layers. Learn what made her tick. What was her favorite food? Her favorite movie, book? Her favorite position?
They’d only tried three.
Yup, he longed to get her naked again. To keep her naked for a long time.
His phone rang.
He looked at the number and sighed. “Not now, sis,” he muttered. But knowing Kelly, she’d put him on speed dial and hit it to go every thirty seconds until he answered it.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Where are you?” she asked.
“Why?”
“Because you are supposed to be at home resting.”
“If I said I was on the sofa would you be happy?”
“If you were on the sofa, you wouldn’t be able to breathe because I’d be sitting on your ass.”
“Hmm . . .” He brushed a palm over his face. “I really need to get my key back from you.”
“If you are already working, I’m gonna—”
“I’m not working. I’m visiting a friend.” He saw Chloe start back to his car. “And I gotta go. I’ll call you later.”
“I brought you chicken soup.”
“And I appreciate it. Stick it in the fridge. I’ll eat it later.” He heard a bark. “I thought you were at my place.”
“I brought Pooch with me. He won’t eat. All he does is whine. I thought maybe if he could just see you—”
“Take him to the vet.”
“I did. The vet says he’s suffering from separation anxiety.”
“From what?”
“You!” his sister said.
“Me? He’s not my dog.”
“I know, but the vet said you probably remind him of his old owner.”
“Give him some puppy Prozac. I gotta go.” He hung up.
• • •
Chloe slipped onto the passenger seat. Cary had just gotten off the phone when Chloe got
in the car. She looked back at the airport entrance, and her mom waved as she moved inside.
“My sister,” Cary said.
She looked back at him. They hadn’t been alone since he met her mom. As nice as Cary had been, he’d been quiet on the car ride. She figured he was ready to make a run for it. Guys, especially guys with commitment issues, didn’t do well meeting parents.
“Well, that went well. Don’t you think?” he asked and smiled.
Chloe shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he asked.
“Tell me this kind of thing happens to you all the time and I’ll be scared,” she said rolling her eyes.
“Well, there was the time I was sixteen and got trapped without my pants, sitting on a girl’s roof for about two hours. But actually parading around naked in front of a mom . . . I think that was a first.” He chuckled and started the car.
“On a roof top?” she asked.
“Dad, a big guy, knocked on her bedroom door. I was too young to die. The window was my only option. But it was December, and I nearly froze my boys off.”
She laughed.
He glanced at her. “It was a hell of a night, wasn’t it?”
“The night on the roof?”
“Last night,” he said.
She met his gaze and had a few flashbacks of what the night had included. She took a deep breath to try to prevent blushing and glanced away. “Yeah. It was good.”
“Good?” he asked. “Good is like a B, I was rating it more along the lines of an A, bordering on an A plus.”
She glanced back at him and grinned. “Why do men always need validation?”
“We don’t need validation,” he said. “But a little cheering from the crowd when we knock one out of the ballpark is nice.” His smile brightened his eyes.
She laughed. “Then consider yourself cheered.”
“Thank you.” He literally beamed now with pride. “You, too,” he said and reached over and brushed a finger over her cheek. Her heart picked up its pace.
The sound of a plane passing overhead echoed above them. “And thanks for dropping my mom off.”
“It wasn’t any trouble.” He paused for a second. “I figured we can go to place first, grab your cat and some of your stuff, and then you can follow me to mine.”
“To yours?” she asked.
“I’ve got a bigger bed,” he said and glanced at her. “Unless you don’t mind using your mom’s.”
“I . . . I don’t expect. . . I can stay at Sheri’s.” She inhaled.
“You were shot at last night.”
“Yeah, but I’ll be safe at Sheri’s.”
He exhaled. “Fine, don’t do it for protection. Do it because . . . I want you to. Just for a few nights,” he said. He looked at her. “One night. One more night, then you can go hang out with your friend.”
And then what? How commitment phobic was this guy? She tried to find a way to ask. She had a right to know, didn’t she?
Of course she did.
So what’s the average life expectancy of your romances?
And she would ask, just as soon as she figured out how to put it without sounding girlfriend crazy.
“One night,” she said.
Chapter Thirty
One more night and then he’d figure this shit out, Cary told himself as they walked into Chloe’s apartment.
“Oh, baby, come here. Mama’s home.” Chloe grabbed her black cat, held it to her chest, and cooed in its ear. “I’m sorry this mean man wouldn’t let me come back last night. You need a snack? I bet you do.” She cut Cary a smile as she took off to the kitchen to get the cat treats.
Cary watched her disappear and then went to the window and looked out. He’d called Chase Kelly on the drive here to see if Joey was still watching the place. He was. Cary then called Joey, to let him know they were coming. The big guy said no one had come a-calling.
Which was odd. They knew where she lived, had shot up her bakery, but hadn’t bothered to come here? From the window, he could see where he’d run after J.D. Andrews, and remembered the kid just standing there. Nothing about any of this was adding up.
He moved away from the window to a bookshelf. Chloe didn’t have near the amount of books her mom had, but the apple didn’t fall that far from the tree. He looked at the titles. Some of them appeared to be old, and all a part of a series. Had she read these as a kid?
He moved up the bookcase and spotted some newer releases. Romance novels. On the next shelf were some photos. The same picture of her and her dad holding fishing poles. One of her with her mom and dad. And another of her as a teenager, with a friend. He studied the face of her friend and it appeared to be Sheri, without the pink hair.
He heard Chloe walk back in and he looked over his shoulder. “Is this Sheri?”
“Yeah.”
“How long have you two been friends?”
“Since kindergarten,” she said.
He looked back at the books. “Have you read all of these?”
“Of course,” she said. “That’s my keeper shelf.”
He noticed she had a bag of cat food in her hands and she set it by the door. “Can I help you get anything?”
“I think the cat carrier is on the top shelf of my hall closet,” she said. “I can get it, but I’ll need a chair.”
“I’ll get it,” he said.
She followed him into the hall.
“I’ve got an extra litter box I can bring.” She bit down on her lip. “Are you sure you wouldn’t just prefer I go back to my mom’s. It’s a lot of stuff.”
“It’s not that much,” he lied. He opened the closet and reached up for the cat carrier. When he did, he saw what was hanging below. A wedding dress covered in clear plastic.
It hit him then. Who Chloe Sanders was. The kind of woman who wanted and deserved the white dress. The white picket fence. She was a keeper. She kept her books, kept her friends. Kept her wedding dress that she’d never worn. She was the kind of woman men kept. And he wasn’t the keeping kind.
What the hell was he doing?
He turned around to tell her that she was right. She’d be better off at her mom’s. But he saw her staring at that dress. This was going to hurt her. And, bam, there it was again—that need to protect her, to fix the wrongs in her life.
She blinked and a slight sheen of emotion brightened her eyes. “Wow, can you believe I forgot it was there?”
“Do you want me to toss it in the garbage?” And while he was at it, he’d throw away the two presents.
She shook her head. “It cost over five thousand dollars.”
“Then sell it,” he said.
She nipped at her bottom lip. “Can you imagine me explaining why I’m selling an unused wedding dress?” She shook her head. “I’ll probably donate it to Goodwill.” She moved closer and ran her hand over the plastic cover. Exhaling, she looked up at him. “It looked really good on me, too.” There was a smile on her lips. A small one.
“Did it?” he asked.
“Yeah, it hid every flaw. I felt . . . like a princess. And I’m not even into the whole princess thing. The day I found it, I’ll bet I tried on fifty wedding dresses and none of them felt right. But the moment Sheri zipped this one up, I loved it. I didn’t want to take it off.”
“Well, I’d argue you don’t have any flaws, but. . .” He pulled out the dress and held it to her. “Let me see.”
She looked at him as if he was crazy. Maybe he was. But he wanted to see her in that dress. And for some unknown reason, he thought it might help. Let her put it on. Let her feel like a princess again. Make her realize that she didn’t deserve what happened to her.
“What?”
“Put it on. I want to see you in it.”
She laughed. “You’re joking.”
“No, I’m serious. You say it looks good on you. I want to see.”
She hesitated, then laughed. “Fine.” She grabbed it and ran into her bedroom.
He stared at the bedroom door for the next five minutes, his gut tightening, worried this had been a terrible mistake. Then the door opened. She swung around before he got a good look at her. “You gotta zip it.”
He moved in. Her shoulders were bare. Her hair, a little messy, but beautiful all the same, hung around those delicate shoulders. Reaching down he found the little tab and pulled up the zipper.
She turned around. “You’ll have to imagine me with makeup on and my hair up.” She pulled her hair on top of her head. A few loose strands fell to the side of her face.
His breath caught. Hung in his lungs. Fuck. It had been a terrible mistake.
“What do you think?” she asked.
His chest gripped. “I think . . . that you’re right. And you’re wrong.” He exhaled. “That dress is amazing. You do look like a princess. But it doesn’t hide your flaws, it just shows you for what you are. Stunning.” He nudged her to stand in front of the dresser.
“Look at you. You are so goddamn beautiful. On the outside. On the inside. And you were correct. That’s the right dress. Jerry just wasn’t the right guy. Keep . . . looking for the right guy.” But not here. Don’t look here.
Their eyes met in the mirror. He felt a knot rise in his stomach. “I guess we should get you packed up.”
• • •
Chloe shed the wedding dress for jeans and a t-shirt. After loading up her car, she followed Cary to his condo, looking at her phone on the passenger seat and trying to guess what time her mom would be in Florida.
Cupcake meowed from his carrier in the backseat. “Almost there,” she said in a soothing tone, but truthfully, she didn’t know where Cary lived.
“Oh, crap,” she muttered, questioning if going to his place was the right thing.
Divorced, Desperate and Dead Page 22