Fool for Love

by Beth Ciotta

  Even though they hadn’t spoken in over five years, he bypassed formal greetings. “You okay?”

  She raised a brow, lacing her tone with more sarcasm than intended. “Don’t I look okay?”

  He slid his sunglasses on top of his head and raked his bourbon gaze down her body.

  She ignored the tightening of her belly, the sensual tingle between her legs. There was nothing sexy about her attire—faded jeans, layered tees, worn Nikes—yet his silent assessment betrayed a primal appreciation. Was he imagining the body beneath the clothes? She’d filled out in the bust and hips since he’d last seen her naked.

  “Something wrong with the Jeep?” he asked, dragging his gaze from her curves to the open hood.

  “Some detective you are.” Twice now he’d asked the obvious.

  “Just trying to keep it civil, Rocky.”

  So his deductive skills were indeed intact. He sensed her anger, knew without asking that all was not forgotten. Definitely not forgiven. She wasn’t sure she could manage civil, especially when her second-greatest urge right now was to punch him. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “What are you doing in Sugar Creek?”

  He slid his hands into the deep pockets of his black cargo pants and rocked back on the thick rubber soles. “Personal business.”

  She thought about his background check on Chloe and smirked. “Regarding Dev?”

  “Regarding my parents’ house. I’m thinking of selling.”

  “Oh.” She should’ve been thrilled. Instead, she was shocked and more than a little sad. She’d known Jayce all her life. Even though they were at odds, she had a mental scrapbook of incredible childhood memories. He’d been like a brother until she’d hit her teens and then … She looked away, gathered her wits. She didn’t want him living in Sugar Creek, but she didn’t want him gone for good either. Well, hell.

  “Either way,” he went on, “renovations are in order. I’ll be in town a week or two. Need a place to stay. Dev suggested the Red Clover.”

  That snapped her head back around. “What?” Was he insane? “Why not stay with Dev? He’s got two spare bedrooms.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  She frowned. Complicated because Jayce had investigated Chloe and once she learned he was a detective and that he and Dev were best friends she might somehow put two and two together? Beyond that, Rocky realized that if Jayce stayed at Dev’s it might cramp her brother’s style and jeopardize her matchmaking plans. Still … “There are several other inns and lodges in the area, Jayce.”

  “Dev said you have plenty of room; plus you’re only fifteen minutes from my folks’ place.”

  “You mean he said I could use the business. Or is it that he wants you to help me fix up the place? He said he had some ideas.” She spun off and paced the length of the Jeep. “He’s determined to take control. As if I’m incapable.”

  “I just need a place to sleep, Rocky.”

  And she needed Jayce in her home like she needed a hole in the head. At the same time … maybe she could work this to her advantage. “Fine. Just … don’t offer any help or advice or try to make nice. Oh, and keep out of my way.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Yeah. See if you can get the Jeep running.”

  His mouth quirked. “Sure, Dash.”

  “And don’t call me Dash!” she ordered as he inspected the engine. The childhood nickname conjured better times. Before their blowout. If Jayce was going to be living under her roof, sleeping a mere few rooms away, she needed to nurture resentment in order to combat desire. Nerves taut, she reached through the open window, snagged her cell from the passenger seat, and called Adam. Logical, reliable, good-hearted, safe Adam.

  “I’m with a client,” he answered. “Can I call you back in a half hour?”

  “No need. I just wanted … I thought about it,” she said in a low voice. “The partner thing.” She massaged her chest, blew out a breath, and took the plunge. “I’m in.”

  TWENTY

  It was six in the evening before Daisy got home. A scenic country drive had turned into an all-day event. Chloe would have been frantic except she’d broken down and phoned the woman around 3:00 p.m. Daisy had assured her she was fine—although she didn’t sound like it—and that she’d be a while longer.

  Three hours later …

  “I’m glad you had a good time,” Chloe said as Daisy took off her wide-brimmed bonnet and hung it on the hat-filled coat tree.

  “Vincent is excellent company.”

  “He seems like a very nice man.”

  She fluffed her silver curls. “He’s the best of friends.”

  “Just friends?”

  “We’ve known each other a long time.” Which wasn’t really an answer. Peeling off her rhinestone-studded denim jacket, Daisy plopped down on the living room’s floral sofa. “How was shopping?” she asked, turning the spotlight on Chloe.

  “I got everything on your list. Almost.” She wasn’t about to bring up Big Al, and she wasn’t sure how much to share about the entire shopping fiasco. “Chris Bane had everything delivered. I put the packages in your room. I hope you like the outfits I put together.”

  “I’m sure I will. Thanks, kitten.”

  Normally, Daisy would’ve bounded up the stairs, eager to try on her new clothes. The fact that she remained on the sofa, head relaxed against a toss pillow, sneakered feet crossed at the ankles, concerned Chloe. Was Daisy still depressed? Even after spending the entire day with her “friend”?

  “Did you run into Devlin?” she asked, after closing her eyes.

  Chloe fidgeted. “You could say that.”

  Daisy squinted her way.

  “There was a misunderstanding. He intervened. I thanked him. We’re good. J.T.’s is a great store, by the way.”

  “I’ve always thought so.” She smiled and allowed her lids to drift back shut.

  Chloe frowned. “Would you like something to eat?”

  “No, thank you. Vincent treated me to a chili dog and ice cream.”

  Knowing her own reaction to such combinations, she cringed. “Would you like an antacid then?”

  Daisy smiled. “No need.”

  “A cocktail?”

  “No, thank you.”

  Maybe she should call Devlin. Something was definitely wrong.

  “You know what I would like to do?”

  “No, what?”

  She pushed to her sneakered feet. “I’d like to take another crack at my secret recipe cupcakes. Would you like to help?”

  “You bet!” Not that Chloe was eager to bake a dessert, but this was a sign that Daisy was bouncing back, albeit without her normal pep and vim. Maybe she was just worn out from the long day.

  When Chloe was midway to the kitchen, her phone rang. “Shoot.”

  “Go on and take it,” Daisy said. “I’ll assemble the ingredients.”

  Chloe returned to the living room, dug her cell out of her purse, and stepped out on the back veranda. She’d been expecting a return call from her dad all day. They’d argued, just like she knew they would, after she told him about the breakup with Ryan. He’d followed up I told you so with take my advice, only she’d cut him off with don’t tell me how to live my life. Nothing had been resolved due to poor reception, then being confronted by a security guard. Chloe wasn’t keen on picking up where she and her dad had left off, but at the same time she felt sick about the wider rift. She took a deep breath of cool evening air. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Chloe. It’s Nash.”

  She blinked.

  “I hope you don’t mind. I got your number from Rocky, who got it from Daisy in case of an emergency.”

  “This is an emergency?” She dropped into a patio chair. “Did something happen to Monica?”

  “No. No, sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you. Actually this is a social call.”

  “Thank God. I mean … how so?”

  “You know I run a charter service. Well, I also freelance with a ho
t-air balloon tour company. There’s nothing like drifting along the Vermont skyline as a way of getting a feel of the land. Since you’re a Flatlander—”

  “A what?”

  “A newcomer from out-of-state. Local term. Sorry. Anyway, since I have some flight time racked up, I thought you might enjoy a personal tour.”

  “In a hot-air balloon?”

  “Ever been up in one?”

  “Never.”

  “Once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

  She thought about the way Daisy had quizzed her during their picnic by the river. Had she ever done this or that? She remembered the wistfulness in Daisy’s tone and her excitement when they’d tubed. Her exuberance when she’d raced the convertible Caddy down the highway. If anything put a spark in Daisy’s eyes and a spring in her step, it was a thrill. “Let’s do it.”

  “Great,” Nash said, sounding vaguely surprised. “What about Friday? Unless the weather forecasts changes, it’ll be a perfect day for skimming the clouds.”

  Skimming the clouds. Daisy would love it. “Friday’s great.”

  “Perfect. Wear warm layers, a hat, sturdy shoes. I’ll pick you up around nine a.m.”

  “See you then.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  They disconnected and Chloe did a happy hop. If a ride in a hot-air balloon didn’t lift Daisy’s spirits—ha!—nothing would. Chloe would surprise her with the news Friday morning. She probably should’ve warned Nash that she was bringing along a guest, but he might’ve balked at the thought of taking up Daisy. Devlin wouldn’t like it. Actually, chances were good that the entire family, including Nash, wouldn’t like the idea of their grandma floating thousands of feet over the earth. But from what Chloe had heard, hot-air ballooning was perfectly safe when the balloon was operated by a licensed pilot, which Nash was.

  Better to spring it on him. He’d have a hard time denying Daisy with her standing in front of him and raring to go. Thrilled with the opportunity to cheer her up, Chloe hurried back inside and into the kitchen.

  “Everything okay?” Daisy asked as she arranged her mixing bowls and measuring spoons.

  “Great.” Chloe took in the ingredients lined up on the kitchen counter. Everything they needed to make coconut cupcakes with Daisy’s special filling and frosting. The woman’s movements were slow but methodical, as if she was concentrating hard, determined to get it right this time. Suddenly Chloe itched to bake. We’ll get it right.

  Her own troubles faded far and away as she moved to the sink to wash her hands. She cursed under her breath when her cell phone sounded a second time.

  “Might be important,” Daisy said when Chloe ignored it.

  Sighing, she plucked the phone out of her sweater pocket, eyeing the nearest door in case it was her dad.

  “Hiya, Chloe. It’s Luke.”

  * * *

  “What are you doing here?”

  Dev raised a brow at his brother as he slid onto a bar stool. “What kind of welcome is that?”

  “It’s just when you called earlier I told you tonight wasn’t a good night for a business meeting.”

  “I’m not here to talk business. I’m here for a drink.” He’d worked late, more juggling of investments, making notes regarding his meeting with the staff on Monday. Once home, he’d nuked a frozen dinner, picking at processed meat loaf and tasteless mashed potatoes while researching prostate cancer on the Internet. Mood darkening, he’d tossed the dinner and snagged a beer, trading his computer for television. Channel surfing led him to the Food Network, which made him think of Chloe. A beer and a half later, he realized he was lonely, depressed, and getting a buzz on alone. That was a low he never wanted to experience.

  “Dewar’s?”

  “Beck’s.”

  Luke poured him a draft, served three more customers, then returned to top off his half-empty mug. “What’s wrong?”

  “Why do you think something’s wrong?”

  “Nine o’clock on a weeknight. Sitting at the bar, slamming back suds. Even if it was Saturday night that would be unusual for you.”

  “It’s been an unusual day.”

  “Heard Jayce is in town. Surprised he’s not here with you.”

  “He had other plans, plus he’s settling in.”

  “At Rocky’s. I know. She called me a couple of hours ago, venting about her not-so-welcome guest.” He shook his head. “You know there’s bad blood between those two, Dev. What possessed you into pushing Jayce to stay with her?”

  “Bad blood.” He sipped more beer. “Whatever happened, over a decade ago, they need to get over it. We’re family, dammit.”

  “I’d tread lightly on this one.”

  “You know something I don’t?”

  “No, but I have my suspicions.”

  “Which are?”

  “My own.” He flashed a grin while pouring Dev another beer. “Also heard about the shoplifting incident.”

  “From who?” Chris had contained the mess and Devlin had swept up the pieces. It chafed that a trusted employee had turned a misunderstanding into fodder for gossip. Then it dawned. “Ah, hell. Mitzi Hall?”

  “She was in here for happy hour. The woman was half-soused and obviously exaggerating. I cut her off and sent her home in a cab.” Luke offered him a bowl of spicy party mix. “So what really happened?”

  Devlin waved off the snack and filled him in, minus the part where he and Chloe had ravaged each other in Chris’s office.

  “So what gives with her dad?”

  “Don’t know.” He hadn’t asked. He’d been too worried about their dad. Too swept away by an urgent need to lose his misery in Chloe.

  Luke slid a menu under his nose. “You should eat something.”

  Devlin glanced from his frosty mug to his warmhearted brother. Luke’s caring nature was his best quality and worst enemy. If he knew what their dad was going through … “Trying to keep me sober?”

  “Trying to figure out why you want to get drunk.”

  If he met his brother’s gaze he just might slip, divulging their dad’s condition. When Devlin had promised his mom to keep the diagnosis secret, he hadn’t realized he’d feel like this much of a traitor to his siblings. What if she was wrong or what if she’d sugarcoated his dad’s progress? What if Devlin was robbing Luke and Rocky of quality time? Robbing himself? Suddenly he couldn’t live with that promise. Or at least one part of it. “I’m flying down to Florida this weekend.”

  “What? Why? Oh, wait.” Luke gestured to the beer mug. “Is that what this is about? Dad stonewalling your renovations?”

  “I need to talk to him face-to-face.” Need to assess his condition.

  “Guess that would drive me to drink, too. When the old man’s got his mind set on something … Or against something…”

  “We’ll come to terms.”

  “This weekend, huh?”

  “Friday to Sunday should do it. That a problem?”

  He shrugged. “Just surprised you’re willing to leave Chloe unattended that long. Thought you didn’t trust her with Gram? Although, you won’t have to worry about a chunk of Friday and Saturday. Then Sunday’s the family dinner, so that’s covered. On second thought, your timing’s great. Go. Haggle with Dad. Hug Mom.”

  “What’s up with Friday and Saturday?”

  “Rocky wanted some one-on-one time with Gram this weekend.”

  “And?”

  “That means free time for Chloe.”

  “So?”

  “So Nash invited her on a hot-air balloon tour and I offered to escort her to the food festival in Burlington.”

  Devlin cursed a pang of jealousy. “When did this happen?”

  “A couple of hours ago.”

  After their passionate encounter. After she’d refused to pursue the attraction between them due to feeling vulnerable in regards to her recent breakup. Yet she was willing to spend time alone with Nash and Luke? Sugar Creek’s most notorious hounds? Devlin tried to give her the benefit
of the doubt, tried not to read into it. Jesus. They weren’t even in a relationship and she had his emotions in a tailspin.

  Luke raised a brow. “You did ask us to keep an eye on her, remember?”

  “That didn’t include hooking up.”

  “Who said anything about hooking up? Just welcoming her into the community and keeping her out of trouble. You have to admit she’s prone to misfortune.”

  “Similar to Janna.” In their on-and-off two-year high school romance and even during their short six-month marriage, it always seemed like he was rescuing her from one or another predicament.

  Luke swept away Devlin’s half-empty mug and replaced it with a cup of steaming black coffee.

  “You’re cutting me off after two beers?”

  “You just brought up Janna,” he said in a low voice. “Someone you haven’t talked about in years. And,” he said, looking aghast, “you compared her to Chloe. You must be sloshed. They’re nothing alike, Dev.”

  “You don’t know her background.”

  “You do? Not for anything, but you two haven’t seemed all that chummy to me. When and why did she confide … Oh, hell. Jayce?”

  “I have a right to protect my family.”

  “She has a right to her privacy. Jesus, Dev.”

  “She’ll never know. She’ll be gone in two months. Probably sooner. As you pointed out, it’s been one misfortune after another, plus Gram’s more of a handful by the day. Chloe’s not one to stick when things get tough.”

  “Like Janna.”

  The name stung like salt in an open wound. “Forget I brought her up.”

  “I wish I could.”

  Devlin pushed off the stool. “Stop looking so glum. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

  “Wish I believed you.” Luke shouted for Anna to cover his shift, then catapulted over the bar and nabbed the keys out of Devlin’s hand. “I’ll drive.”

  * * *

  “I’ll walk you to the door.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re blitzed.”