Fool for Love

by Beth Ciotta

  She palmed his shoulders, caught her breath. “Not here.”

  “The guest room.” Across the house, but downstairs. Behind locked doors.

  “What if the floor creaks? What if the bed creaks?”

  At least she was thinking along the same lines. He swept her off the table, his brain shorting when she locked her arms around his neck and nailed him with another mind-blowing kiss. The more she gave, the more he wanted.

  Next thing he knew he’d carried her through a side door from the kitchen into the garage. “Feeling adventurous?”

  “Living in the moment.”

  Between the dark and the various stacked boxes, somehow he managed to make it to the Cadillac without tripping. Outside thunder boomed and rain pelted the metal garage door—not exactly soulful jazz but mood-setting ambiance all the same. Intense. Primal. He opened the back door without bonking Chloe’s head on the car and suddenly they were in the backseat making out like two horny teenagers.

  “This is so wrong,” she rasped as she pulled his T-shirt over his head.

  “Not as wrong as the kitchen table.”

  “Right.”

  He pushed up her silky cami and brushed his lips over her taut belly while cupping her firm breasts. Her soft moans driving him toward the edge of carnal bliss. Squeezing and plucking her pebbled nipples, he kissed and licked his way up her smooth, creamy skin, his dick throbbing when he tongued and sucked her erect, rosy tips.

  He was halfway to heaven when bright light flooded the interior of the car, jolting him like a bucket of cold water. With a muttered curse, he shifted to shield Chloe, certain they were no longer alone.

  “Show yourselves or I’ll shoot!”

  Devlin dropped his forehead to Chloe’s. “Gram.”

  “She owns a gun?”

  “Not that I know of. But to be on the safe side…” He pushed himself up enough to look out the rear side window at the silver-haired woman wearing moose pajamas and wielding a baseball bat. “It’s me, Gram.”

  The woman marched forward and peered in.

  Chloe, who’d managed to pull down her top, blushed and smiled. “Hi.”

  “You should be ashamed, Devlin Monroe!” Daisy blasted. “You couldn’t take her to a ritzy hotel?” With that she turned away, shut off the light, and slammed the door.

  After a stunned moment, they both laughed.

  “A bit of a mood killer,” Chloe said.

  “Not a bad thing,” Devlin said. He smoothed his thumb over her cheek, still aroused but thoughtful. “She’s right. You deserve better.” He kissed her then, a sweet, soulful kiss. This he would carry with him to Florida. “When I get back,” he said, “we’re going to pursue this.”

  “Okay.”

  “No argument?”

  She smiled up at him and his damned heart skipped. “No argument.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  Chloe woke up to the sound of Devlin’s voice. It didn’t matter that it was over the phone. She was still in bed, still basking in the aftermath of their late-night rendezvous. Still gloriously and wondrously under his spell. The fact that he’d called from the airport proved she hadn’t dreamed the entire episode.

  “Get any sleep?” he asked.

  “Not much. You?”

  “Hard to sleep when my mind’s full of you.”

  She closed her eyes, reveling in the sexy sentiment even as she doubted his sincerity. “Use that line a lot, do you?”

  “Never.”

  White-hot desire blazed through her body. His voice, so sexy. His words, so romantic. She snuggled deeper beneath her blankets, resisting the urge to touch herself. Ever had phone sex? she wanted to ask. She suppressed an embarrassed giggle. “This is crazy.”

  “What?”

  “I feel like…”

  “Tell me.”

  “I feel like I’m in high school. A teenager dealing with her first major crush. All those intensely wonderful and insane sensations. Logically, I know it’s a case of textbook infatuation. Accelerated heart rate. Weak-kneed adoration.”

  “Sounds like something out of Cosmo.”

  “I definitely read it somewhere. Intense yearnings,” she continued. “Obsessive sexual fantasies.”

  “If I weren’t about to board, I’d ask you to elaborate on that fantasy aspect.”

  Her mouth quirked. “Anyway, you see my point.”

  “Actually, I do.”

  “Frustrating.”

  “Yet stimulating.”

  “Can we not talk about stimulation?”

  He laughed, knocking her further off balance before jostling her with a dose of reality. “Seen Daisy yet this morning?”

  “Not yet. I’m sort of dreading it. Knowing her, she’ll ask for details regarding our backseat tumble.”

  “Fortunately, or not, depending on your viewpoint, the details are tame.”

  “Yes, but if I tell her we didn’t get beyond, uh, second base, I worry she’ll lecture me on how to get home.”

  “Gram talks that frankly to you about sex?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “That’s awkward.”

  “To say the least.”

  “I’m sorry I lost control last night, Chloe.”

  “I’m not. It was exciting. You’re exciting.”

  “Tell that to my friends and family. They think I’m boring as hell.”

  “I don’t know about boring as much as uptight.” She grinned, remembering how Monica had described him as having a stick up his ass. “You’ve been lovingly described as a workaholic and control freak.”

  “Lovingly, huh?”

  “Impressive if you ask me. People adore you even though you tick them off.”

  “It’s a gift,” he joked.

  But she sensed he wasn’t really laughing. Chloe snuggled under the covers, the phone pressed to her ear, wishing Devlin were here beside her. Amazing how much their relationship had changed between yesterday and this morning. “Good luck with your dad,” she said. “Hopefully he’s more reasonable than mine and once you talk face-to-face about your renovation plans he’ll honor your wishes.”

  “At the very least we’ll strike a compromise. Maybe you should try that route with your dad.”

  “He’d have to be talking to me to strike a compromise,” she said, trying not to feel bitter and failing. “I’ve left two messages since our last blowout and he’s yet to return my calls.”

  “You could follow my lead. Fly out and resolve things in person.”

  “You don’t know my dad. Once I was home he’d do everything in his power to dictate my future. He’s convinced I can’t take care of myself and now that Ryan’s out of the picture…”

  “So he’s a good man, but controlling.”

  Like Ryan. Like you. That thought pricked a hole in her pretty pink bubble. “Can we not talk about this?”

  “So what are your plans for the day?”

  She pushed up to her elbows and peered out the window. No rain, but no clear blue skies either. “I was supposed to meet Nash this morning for a hot-air balloon ride, which you probably knew, but he called last night soon after the Cupcake Lovers meeting and canceled due to the crummy weather.”

  “Can’t say I’m sorry.”

  Something in his voice. She raised a brow. “Because you’re jealous about me keeping company with your cousin or because you were worried about us navigating stormy skies?”

  “Both.”

  His honesty boosted her dreamy mood. Smiling, she decided not to mention she’d planned on taking Daisy along for the ride, knowing it would only rattle his chains. Selfishly Chloe wanted to cling to this knee-melting flirtation for as long as possible. “For what it’s worth, I’m not attracted to Nash. Or Luke,” she added, assuming, because this family talked about everything, that Devlin also knew she was meeting up with his brother tomorrow.

  “Good to know,” he said with a smile in his voice. “Although they’ll have a hard time believing it.”

  Sh
e laughed at that. “They are indeed … confident in their charms.”

  “That’s a nice way of putting it.” He paused as a woman’s voice shrilled over a loudspeaker.

  Chloe sighed. “Your flight?”

  “Boarding now,” Devlin confirmed. “I’ll call you if I learn anything about Gram’s meds.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  “Have a nice weekend, Chloe.”

  She closed her eyes and imagined his handsome face, his heart-pounding kisses. “Have a safe and productive trip.” And hurry back.

  She’d barely disconnected when a loud knock startled her into a sitting position. “Yes?”

  Daisy blew into the room dressed in a long-sleeved grey pullover, denim overalls tucked into bright pink rubber rain boots. “Get dressed, kitten. Family emergency.”

  Her heart pounded as she threw off her blankets. It couldn’t be Devlin. Then … “Who? What?”

  “Rocky. Tree crashed into her utility shed. The shed collapsed, burying all her sports equipment. Luke rallied the troops. We’re all meeting at the Red Clover. It’s wet and muddy out there. Dress accordingly. Not that we’ll be doing any of the heavy work, still.”

  Chloe scrambled out of bed and rooted through her drawers. “Does Devlin know?” Surely not or he would’ve said something.

  “That boy’s got enough on his mind. Besides”—she glanced at her watch—“he’s in the air by now.”

  Or at least close to it. Chloe wondered if she should text him, then thought better of it. Daisy was right. He had enough on his mind and, since he was already in Burlington and soon headed for Florida, there wasn’t much he could do aside from worry. Instead, she’d just pitch in and do whatever she could in his place.

  Daisy turned on her neon-pink soles. “Meet you downstairs in ten.”

  Chloe threw on jeans, a worn tee, and high-top sneakers. She scrubbed her face and teeth, brushed her hair into a high ponytail, and, two minutes later, was sitting alongside Daisy in the Caddy. Shoving erotic thoughts of last night’s liaison from her mind, she hit the garage door remote and keyed the ignition.

  Daisy buckled up and, after a teasing glance at the backseat, grinned at Chloe and snickered. “Guess you won’t be needing Big Al, after all.”

  * * *

  Rocky ignored the pounding at her brain, pulled her pillow over her head, and willed the day to go away. At some point she’d have to deal with her collapsed shed. Not wanting to impose on family, she’d have to hire help. She’d also have to buy a new shed. Just now she couldn’t bear thinking about the impending cost, so she shut it all out. She’d deal in an hour or so. After the groggy effects of two Tylenol PMs, too little sleep, and too much anxiety had worn off.

  Unfortunately, someone yanked her pillow away. Temples throbbing, she squinted at the obnoxious daylight and an unwanted guest. “I thought I told you to leave,” she rasped, voice hoarse from lack of sleep.

  “Rise and shine,” Jayce said, looking infuriatingly refreshed. “Luke coordinated a friends and family rescue team. They’re on their way.”

  It took a second to absorb his words. When they sank in, she sprang out of bed and rushed toward her private bathroom. It was that or punch him. “I suppose you called Dev, too!” she blasted as she splashed cold water on her face. “It’s why he coerced you into staying here, right? To keep an eye on me and to take charge if things went wrong. As if I can’t take care of myself, which I can! What’s he going to do when you go back to Brooklyn? Hire a babysitter?”

  “I didn’t call anyone,” Jayce said, moving in and crowding up the threshold. “Your boyfriend did.”

  “What?”

  “Adam showed up early to check on you and the property. He was worried because of last night’s storm. Apparently there was wind damage at the Spruce Lake Lodge.”

  Very close to where Adam lived. “Was he okay?”

  “Get dressed and you can see for yourself. He’s walking the grounds, looking for damage beyond the shed.”

  Probably regretting his offer to invest in her ill-plagued B and B. She’d have to give him an out. He didn’t deserve getting dragged into her financial woes.

  She realized suddenly that Jayce was staring and in a heartbeat absorbed what he’d really meant when he’d said, Get dressed. Last night she’d peeled off her soaked boxers and tank and pulled on clean, dry underwear—lace-trimmed boy shorts and a sheer cotton cami. She was practically naked. She willed herself not to blush or to grab the chenille robe hanging on the back of her bathroom door. She decided to let him drink his fill of her long, toned legs, taut stomach, and full breasts. She worked hard to keep fit, especially since she’d been blessed (or cursed, depending on her mood) with a generous bustline and booty. This is what you’re missing! her mind screamed, a warped message, since she was the one who’d sent him packing in the first place.

  “And he’s not my boyfriend,” she blurted while squeezing toothpaste onto a brush. “Just a good friend.”

  “With benefits.”

  Was he jealous? Judgmental? She couldn’t tell. But the longer he stared, the more she ached. Intimately. For him. Panicked, she rinsed her mouth, then, without making eye contact, finger-combed her messy blond waves. “If you’re not going to leave,” she snapped, “make yourself useful and brew some coffee.”

  In the blink of an eye, Jayce nabbed her hand and pulled her roughly against him.

  She nearly died from the feel of his hard muscles, the proximity of his gorgeous face. When his mouth brushed her ear, she suppressed a lusty groan.

  “Keep pushing, Dash,” he said in a low, threatening voice, “and you’ll be sorry.”

  “Problem?” asked another male voice.

  Adam.

  “No problem,” Jayce said in an even tone, then stepped back and wordlessly brushed past the other man as he left the room.

  Now Rocky blushed. From head to toe. In her barely there underthings.

  Adam moved forward and regarded her with injured eyes. The first indication that he actually did harbor tender feelings. “Are you and Jayce—”

  “No. I know that looked bad, but—”

  “You don’t owe me an explanation, Rocky. We’re just fuck buddies, right? No strings.”

  Her stomach cramped. Everything was falling apart. Her dreams. The property. And now her secret but stable relationship with this generous and terrific guy who’d never been anything other than kind and supportive.

  “Adam—”

  “I’ll be outside. The shed. There’s a slew of people headed over to help.” His disappointed gaze raked over her skimpy attire and she knew he was thinking about her in Jayce’s arms and thinking the worst. “You might want to get dressed.”

  * * *

  Instead of skimming the clouds, Chloe spent the morning driving through puddles. First in town, when they’d made a stop at Oslow’s, then later, as she navigated a lush valley in order to get to Rocky’s B and B. The thunderstorms had abated, but the evidence of torrential rains and heavy winds was aplenty. Downed branches, overturned lawn furniture, partially flooded roads. Apparently lightning had wreaked havoc, too. Specifically, zapping the tree that had felled Rocky’s shed.

  Chloe felt awful about that, as if the woman didn’t have enough problems already. It warmed her heart knowing family and friends were pulling together in a big way. Even though it was a Friday, a common workday, apparently several people had committed to an all-day cleanup, including Luke, Nash, Sam, Devlin’s friend Jayce, and a friend of Rocky’s named Adam. Leo was also making an appearance along with Monica. Also dropping by to lend a hand a few people Chloe had yet to meet—two female cousins and three senior members of Cupcake Lovers.

  Daisy had asked Chloe to stop at the grocery to stock up on food in order to contribute to the smorgasbord everyone would pick on throughout the day. Apparently, in addition to cutting away the tree and salvaging what they could of Rocky’s gear, they planned on erecting a new shed. Being from the Midwest, Chloe
equated the affair to a barn-raising event. She’d only been to one and could still remember the overwhelming sense of community.

  Day by day, the longer she was in Sugar Creek, the more she embraced small-town living. Although it wasn’t just the town. It was the Monroes and their extended clan. It was being included in a family rescue mission and being able to meet up with Monica any time she wanted. She not only saw more of her best friend; they talked on the phone more often, too. It was about being invited to participate in the Cupcake Lovers’ recipe book project even though Tasha had made it clear she wasn’t an official member until she’d attended a month’s worth of meetings and contributed to at least two charitable functions. Until then she was a guest consultant in charge of formatting their proposal. Fine by her.

  Last, it was about being attracted to a man who, although obsessed with work, put family problems first, going so far as to fly to another state to settle a disagreement with his dad. Even though there were assorted personality issues and varied crises, getting drawn in and tangled up with this old-fashioned yet unconventional family filled Chloe with a sense of wonder and joy.

  “I’d give anything to belong to a big, awesome family like yours,” she said, thinking aloud while noting a sign advertising The Red Clover Bed-and-Breakfast—2 miles ahead. Like most everything in this region, the sign looked like a remnant of the 1800s.

  “Stick around long enough,” Daisy said, “and you might get your wish.”

  Chloe glanced from the passing scenery—dairy farms, apple orchards—to the woman wearing bib overalls and blingy cat-eye glasses. “I’m afraid to ask.”

  “Obviously, Devlin’s crazy about you. If that doesn’t work out, maybe we can match you up with Sam. He’s a good man and though he’s set on courting Rachel, you saw how that’s going.”

  “I’m trying to figure out which one of those bizarre comments to address first.”