All of a sudden, her phone rang. She grabbed it, worried about Nana, but it was Sheri’s number.
She debated answering then decided she needed some moral support. Or maybe she needed Sheri to talk some sense into her. “Hey,” she said.
“Don’t you hey me,” Sheri snapped. “Your mom called me and asked who the guy was sleeping with you in your bed. So, was he awesome?”
“Better than awesome,” Chloe said. “Too good. So good, I think I’ve lost my better judgment.”
“Ooohhh. This sounds good. What are you doing?”
“I’m following him to his place. I agreed to spend the night. Tell me I’m totally crazy.”
“Wow. He asked you back to his place?”
“Yeah.”
“He really likes you then.”
“How do you know?”
“Duh, a guy’s not going to bring you to his place if he really thinks it’s a one-night stand.”
“Yeah, but what if I kind of told him it was okay if it was?”
“Why would you do that?”
“I don’t know. I could tell he was still scared of me and I . . . I didn’t want him to run away. So I told him I wasn’t looking for promises.”
When Sheri didn’t say anything right away, Chloe felt more panic start bubbling inside her. “I screwed up, didn’t I?”
“Not necessarily,” Sheri said. “I still think it’s a good sign that he asked you back to his place.”
“Oh God, Sheri, I can’t think straight when I’m with him. He asked me to try on my wedding dress and I did it. At first, he was just telling me how beautiful I was, and then . . . and then he got quiet, like he was afraid again.”
“Whoa. Slow down. You tried on your wedding dress for him? I didn’t know you still had your wedding dress.”
“I know . . . I kind of forgot, too.”
“Okay, don’t panic. I mean, he hasn’t taken back the invitation to stay at his house, has he?”
“No, but . . .”
“Then chill. I mean, you two did meet in the afterlife. I think that might be a sign that you two are soul mates.”
Chloe took a deep breath and realized how selfish she was being. She wasn’t the only one who had boy problems. “Speaking of soul mates . . . how did the red underwear go over?”
“Ugh. We’ll talk about that later.”
“You didn’t have sex?”
“No,” Sheri said.
“Sheri, I’m so sorry. You just need to bite the bullet and talk to him.” A terrible thought hit. “You don’t think Kevin’s depressed, do you?”
“No, I think he just . . . fell out of love with me, and doesn’t know how to tell me. And sadly, I’m not sure I haven’t done the same.”
“You still need to talk.”
“I know,” Sheri said. “And we will. Eventually.” She exhaled. “So you’re staying at his place tonight. Are you planning to go back to your place tomorrow? If you want, you can stay here. We can commiserate.”
“Yeah, that might work.” Chloe followed Cary into a condo parking lot.
“Good. Kevin is leaving early tomorrow. Just come over when you want. You can tell me all about your great sex and I can live vicariously though you.”
“I don’t kiss and tell,” Chloe said, trying to lighten the tone.
“Oh, honey, it’s not the kissing I want to hear about. It’s the good stuff that comes after the kissing.”
They both laughed. “Look, I’m pulling into his place now. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, have fun. You deserve this.”
“Thanks,” Chloe said.
She parked beside Cary. She saw him getting out of his Camaro and walking toward her car. He wasn’t smiling. Did he regret asking her to come here?
Maybe she shouldn’t even unload her stuff. Just offer him a thanks and drive off.
• • •
J.D. had waited for hours for Cary Stevens to call or maybe even to show up. He hadn’t done either. Sitting in his empty bedroom, hungry and so bored he occasionally talked to the angel stain on the ceiling, he dialed the police station’s number again and asked to speak to Detective Stevens.
“He’s not here,” the woman asked. “Is this an emergency? If so, I can connect you with another officer in homicide.”
He considered it, but his gut said it needed to be that Stevens guy. He hadn’t shot J.D. when he’d had the chance. That had to mean something. “No, but can you tell me when he’ll be in?”
“I’m not aware of his schedule, which is why I might suggest you speak with another officer.”
J.D. gripped the phone tighter in frustration. “No, just give me his voicemail please.”
Listening to the voice message and waiting for the beep, he tried to decide what to say. He’d said everything that needed to be said, hadn’t he? The beep came.
“Yeah, it’s J.D. again. I need to talk to you, and to see you. Again, I’m at my grandmother’s old place. Call me.” He hung up, and feeling exasperated, he slammed his shoulder back against the bedroom wall. “Goddamn it!”
His gaze shifted up to the ceiling where the angel seemed to be staring down at him. “Yeah, I’m not supposed to say that, but I’m hungry, I’m going to run out of minutes on my phone, I’m out of gas, and I don’t have much money. What the hell am I supposed to do?”
The angel didn’t answer him. Of course she didn’t answer him. Closing his eyes, he curled up on the floor and tried to decide what to do next. He couldn’t wait forever. If the cop didn’t call him back soon, he was going to have to come up with a new plan.
He closed his eyes and tried to decide what that new plan might be.
• • •
Chloe stood right outside her car door and met Cary. “Why don’t you bring in the cat and I’ll get the rest of this stuff?”
Ask if he’s sure he wants you here? Ask him!
“Are you sure?” It wasn’t the direct question she’d planned to ask, but was close.
“Yeah.”
Now she was left to wonder why he didn’t sound so sure.
“Okay,” she said. Now, away from the car, holding the cat carrier as still as she could, she spoke softly to Cupcake to calm the feline. She didn’t know what she could do for Cary—except leave. He seemed almost as freaked out as her cat.
What had she been thinking? Sure, it had been his idea, but she should have known that trying on a wedding dress for a commitment phobic boyfriend was stupid.
Yeah, really stupid.
Or was it?
For some crazy, insane reason, it was as if trying the dress on had changed something—for her, not him. Or maybe it just made her realize things had changed.
That dress should have plopped her right back in that painful mental state of grief and anger over Jerry’s suicide, and for a few seconds, it had. But, then when she had that dress on, she felt it again. Like a princess. It was as if she’d suddenly realized that while Jerry had taken his life and hers, her dreams hadn’t really died. They, like the dress, had just been left in a closet, forgotten. Neglected.
As absurd as it sounded, it was as if Cary had known trying on that dress would somehow wake something up inside of her. But how could he have known that?
He carried the litter box and bag of litter in one hand, and pulled her small suitcase with a few clothes, makeup, and her laptop in the other. Give him an out, the little voice in her head said. Tell him you don’t have to stay.
He sat the things down on the small porch to unlock the door.
A shrill bark came from the other side.
Cupcake hissed. Chloe looked at him. “Do you have a dog?”
“Shit!” he growled.
“What?” she asked.
“My sister.”
“What about your sister?” she asked, confused.
“She’s still here.” He opened the door, holding his foot in front of the door to block a small dog from running outside. “Kelly?” he called out his sister’s name.
Chapter Thirty-one
Chloe stood there holding the cat carrier as Cupcake meowed and shifted anxiously from one side to the other.
“Kelly?” Cary called again. If his sister was there, she wasn’t answering.
The little dog snuck past Cary’s leg and ran up to the cat carrier. He stopped barking, lifted up on his hind legs and sniffed at the carrier door. Cupcake let out a big hiss.
Cary dropped his load and snagged up the dog. “Sorry,” he said. “I’m killing my sister.”
The canine, all ears and pink bows, started licking Cary on his face.
“Stop,” Cary snapped, and stuck his head in the door and called out his sister’s name again.
“I can’t freaking believe it!” he seethed. “She’s not here. She left the dog. Can you believe she’d just leave the dog?”
Chloe shrugged, not completely understanding. “So, it’s her dog?”
“It’s a foster dog. She’s trying to get me to adopt it.”
Chloe watched the dog as it continued to lick Cary’s cheeks. “I think she likes you.”
“He,” Cary said. “It’s a boy.” Cary held the dog out exposing his little doggy penis.
She arched a brow as he resituated the dog in his arms. “It has pink ribbons.”
“I know, I said the same thing. I think it’s some psycho dog groomer’s way of driving the animal crazy.”
Chloe grinned. “I don’t think he cares.”
“He’s a guy. He cares!” Cary pushed the door open, heading down the hall to put the dog inside a door. The poor thing let out a half-bark, half-whine.
Chloe stood right inside the door, her gaze moving around the condo. It looked like a guy’s place. Well, cleaner than most, but lacking any knickknacks or feminine touches. A big television hung on one wall, and a large dark brown leather sofa and matching chair filled the room.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know my sister was leaving the dog.”
She saw it again, the tightness around his eyes. Did he not want her here now?
Damn it, she had to ask him, make it clear.
“If you want, I can just go back to my mom’s.” She held her breath, knowing it was going to hurt if he wanted her to leave
“No.” He ran a palm over his face again. But still didn’t look happy.
“It might be best,” she said.
“No. I . . . I want you here. Please.”
He sounded sincere. “Okay.”
“How about we put the cat in the extra bedroom until we get rid of the dog?”
“That’s fine.”
He motioned for her to follow him. She got a glimpse inside what looked like the master bedroom. A dark king-size sleigh bed and matching dresser. Bed unmade.
Another room appeared to be half-study, half-weight room. At the very end of the hall was another small bedroom with a full-size bed and a dresser.
As she put down the carrier, Cary shut the bedroom door as if worried the cat would run out. She released the carrier’s door. Cupcake stayed inside.
“She’s a little nervous,” Chloe said.
“Because of the dog.” He frowned.
“I don’t know. She likes dogs. Or I guess I could say she likes a dog. Sheri has Taco, an English Mastiff. We got them both about the same time. Both of them were six weeks old, and for some crazy reason, they bonded.” She grinned. “You should see them, this huge mastiff, and a cat.” She heard the dog barking inside the bathroom. “That said, I’m afraid Cupcake may not think your sister’s pet is a dog after meeting Taco.”
“I’m not sure it is either. I think it’s a longhaired guinea pig someone taught to bark.”
Chloe smiled. And so did Cary for the first time since the wedding dress incident. Their eyes met and held. It made her feel a tad better. Was Sheri right? Had his inviting her here meant something?
“Why don’t I get some food and water for the cat while you calm her down?”
She nodded and watched him leave. She ducked her head down to look into the carrier. “What’s wrong, baby? You nervous?”
Reaching into the carrier, she pulled the feline out and held him close, rubbing her chin on his forehead. “If it makes you feel any better, I’m nervous, too.”
• • •
The first thing Cary did was stop by the bathroom door where the shrill barking escaped behind the door frame, and typed his sister a text. What the hell?
His finger hung over the send button when logic intervened. Kelly would come back for the mutt, find Chloe here, and make a big deal about it. He didn’t need anyone making a big deal about it when he was trying so hard to convince himself it wasn’t.
He erased the message, deciding he’d drop the dog back off at his sister’s in a little bit.
An even louder bark echoed from the bathroom. For a tiny thing, Pooch had a set of lungs.
He opened the door. The dog barreled out, barking and bouncing up and down.
“Hush,” he ordered. The animal stopped yapping and hung his head as if scolded. “Why the hell did she leave you?”
Remembering he was supposed to be getting food and water for the cat, he took off down the hall. The dog followed at his feet, his tiny paws prancing proudly like a Clydesdale horse.
“If I step on you, you’ll die, so watch it,” he warned.
When he stopped in the kitchen to get a bowl of water, Pooch stood on his hind legs and made a tiny little whining noise as if begging to be held.
“No,” he told the dog. The animal immediately sat down, then stared up and cocked its head in that cute puppy fashion. Good thing he didn’t like puppies. “I guess you need food and water, too, don’t you?” Shit! Why the hell had his sister left the dog here?
Right then, he heard his front door open.
“Pooch?” he heard his sister call out. “Got you some food.” Friggin’ hell! He really, really needed to get his key back.
He grabbed the dog and moved into the living room. “You looking for this?” he asked in a low voice, praying he could get Kelly out of there without involving Chloe.
“So, you’re home?” She moved in and dropped her purse and grocery bag on the sofa table.
“Yup.”
“I brought him some food.”
“Which you will be taking with you.” He met her in the middle of the room, handed her the dog, then grabbed his sister’s purse and bag. “Let me walk you to the car.”
The dog growled at her.
“See, he doesn’t like me. And he’s not eating. He misses you.”
Cary pointed a finger at the dog. “You will eat. You will be nice.” The dog whimpered. Cary glanced at Kelly. “That should take care of it.” He wrapped his arm around Kelly’s shoulder and started moving her toward the door.
“Wait,” she said and put on the brakes. “What’s that?”
“What?” he asked.
“That?” She pointed behind her.
“What?” He didn’t look back. He eyed the door like a dangling carrot. A few more feet, and he’d have her and Pooch out the door.
“You got a cat?” she asked.
Shit. Had she heard Chloe’s kitten all the way in here? “No.”
“But you got cat litter.” She pivoted and pointed to the bag he’d left by the sofa.
“Oh, well it was a buy this product, get that free.” It was a lousy comeback, one of his worst, but he couldn’t come up with anything else.
“Why would you want cat litter?” His sister started shaking her head.
“Let me walk you to your car,” he repeated, and pasted a smile on his face.
She stepped out of his arm.
“Cary?” Chloe’s voice echoed from the back bedroom. “Didn’t we bring in the cat litter?”
Busted. The smile fell from his face. Mentally, he heard it crash at his feet.
His sister’s eyes widened. “You lied to me.”
“Sorry,” he said.
Footsteps echoed down the hall. C
hloe stopped when she spotted Kelly.
His sister’s gaze went to Chloe, to him, and back to Chloe. “We meet again,” Kelly said.
Chloe’s smile came off a little nervous as she moved the rest of the way into the living room. “Yes.”
His sister’s grin grew wider. “At least my brother has his clothes on this time. That makes it a little less awkward.”
Chloe chuckled. “That’s for sure. And I’m not doused in beef stew and banana pudding either.”
“True,” Kelly said. “So, you have a cat?”
Chloe nodded.
“And the cat’s here?” Pooch started wiggling in Kelly’s arms. She set him down and then dropped her purse beside the dog as if she had no intention of leaving anytime soon.
“Yes.” Chloe looked at Cary as if asking for help.
“And you two are . . .?”
“Friends. We’re friends,” Cary spoke up.
“Fantastic.” Kelly’s smile beamed. And she always got that look when she was up to no good. “Has he invited you to Bella’s party next Saturday? It’s at our house and Bella has six girls coming. All of them have read your books. They even started their own Chloe Sanders fan club. And of course, family and close friends will be there. And you’re a friend.”
Cary inwardly groaned. Chloe looked at him.
Kelly started up again. “We tried so hard to win one of the three birthday parties you gave away last year. And it would be so great if you could come. I don’t mean you’d have to give books away. I would buy them, of course. You have no idea how much it would mean to Bella. She adores you. Adores you. Last year, when I got mad at her for her grades, she said she was going to run away to your house. Not that she really knows where you live.” Kelly frowned. “Okay, she does know, she Googled you, but she promised not to go there.” Eyes filled with pleading, Kelly added, “Please come to her party.”
“Oh, I would—”
“I’m sure Chloe will look at her schedule and get back with you,” Cary said, shooting his sister a look that had sent criminals to their knees.
His sister, obviously not a criminal, ignored the look. “We’re cooking fajitas and hamburgers on the grill. And we’ll be serving margaritas for the adults. And my husband makes the best margaritas. I mean, to-die-for margaritas.”
Divorced, Desperate and Dead Page 23