by Mandy Baxter
A slow, sweet smile spread across her face. “You make me happy, too. And you’d make me happy whether you had ten or ten million dollars.”
He made her happy. Nate felt as though his chest might burst. She wanted him and it wasn’t because of the money.
“You were right earlier when you said that I didn’t know anything about your relationship with your dad,” Chloe continued. “It’s not my decision to make for you. The only reason I wanted you to keep it in the first place was because of the good it could do for you. Your life could be easy if you wanted it to be. And I truly do believe that your inheritance is your father’s apology to you and your brothers. I think it was his way of telling you that he cared about you. Loved you. I just don’t want you to throw that away.”
Maybe Chloe was right. Nate couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been so insistent that he off-load his inheritance because he didn’t want the headache, or because he wanted to spite his father. Sort of one last middle-finger to the old man for the way he’d betrayed him. The more Nate thought about it, the more childish it seemed. He wasn’t spiting his father. He was spiting himself. Nate would be the only one hurt by giving it all away.
“I think I want to keep it. Maybe you can help me figure out what to do with it.”
Chloe gave him a blinding smile. “I could probably do that.”
“Now that that’s settled, what did you want to talk to me about? The foundation, right?”
From the counter, Chloe’s phone rang. Nate leaned back in his chair, reaching to the counter to retrieve it for her. He caught the number on the caller ID from the corner of his eye and the chair came back down on its front legs with a snap as he lent his full attention to the screen. “Why is my brother calling you?”
Chloe’s expression fell and her cheeks bloomed with color. “I can explain.”
What in the hell was there to explain? Nate swiped his finger across the screen and brought the phone up to his ear. “Travis?”
“Nate?” A pregnant pause filled the space between Nate and his brother. “Did I dial the wrong number?”
“Depends,” he said. “Who are you trying to call?”
“Chloe Benson from the Youth Sports Foundation of Dallas.”
Nate’s heart sunk like a stone to the bottoms of his feet. “You dialed the right number.”
Travis gave a nervous laugh. “She must’ve changed her mind about hitting you up for a big fat donation, huh? But dude, why are you answering her phone? Does a cool three million get you access to her iPhone or some shit?”
The hand clutching the phone went numb as Nate’s grip tightened. His eyes met Chloe’s and he knew everything he needed to by the guilt that pinched her usually soft expression. “Travis, can I call you back?”
Travis gave a nervous laugh. “Sure, but uh, could you have Chloe give me a call? My financial manager has a few questions that I need answered before I can green light this donation. She needs a commitment by Christmas and it’s going to be tough to finalize everything in time.”
“Sure. Talk to you later.” Nate ended the call and set the phone down on the table. Hurt and suspicion sliced through him and he tried to swallow it down, but his throat was already so goddamned clogged with betrayal that he couldn’t get the knot in his throat to budge.
“Nate, before you jump to conclusions, you need to let me explain.” Chloe’s voice quavered. Her green eyes glistened with an emotion pretty damned close to fear and she pushed her chair slowly away from the table.
“Did you fuck my brother, too?” The words spilled out in an angry rush. Chloe’s jaw dropped and Nate shot out of the chair. He braced his hands on the table and leaned over it, his entire body quaking with rage. “Answer me, Chloe! Is this some sort of fucking scam?”
* * *
Nate’s words knocked the air from Chloe’s lungs. She’d planned to tell him that she’d contacted Travis. In fact, they’d been about to cover that very subject when her phone rang.
“Of course it’s not a scam. And I didn’t sleep with your brother! How could you even suggest that?” Nate cocked a brow and it was all Chloe could do not to throw her fork at him.
“You got me to keep the money and it didn’t even take a full two weeks. When were you going to spring it on me? Tonight? Tomorrow? Were you going to use the foundation excuse on me, too? Beg for a donation and then take the money and run?”
Nate’s eyes blazed with an angry fire that threw off enough heat to make Chloe sweat. “My foundation isn’t an excuse!” Chloe railed. The weeks of stress and worry finally caught up to her and she cracked under the emotional strain. “Do you want to know the truth, Nate? I’m closing my doors if I can’t come up with the operating funds by close of business Christmas Eve. And I’d do anything to save my foundation and the kids it helps. I went to your father’s memorial service absolutely prepared to get down on my knees and beg you for that money.”
Nate snorted. “You got down on your knees all right. You just forgot to ask for a check afterward.”
Tears sprung to Chloe’s eyes and she couldn’t stop their ceaseless flow. “How could you say that?” Her voice was nothing more than a pained whisper.
“You know, at least Miranda was up-front about picking my pocket. She never pretended to be something she wasn’t and didn’t make up bullshit excuses for why she wanted the money.”
“Piss off, Nate!”
“What about the kid? You pay him off, too? Pick him up on a playground somewhere and offer him twenty bucks if he could play his part and make you look good?”
“You’re an asshole!” A sob lodged in Chloe’s throat. “I never once asked you for money. After that first night together I decided that I was more interested in you than what you could do to help me.”
“I’m supposed to believe that? You’ve spent the past ten days doing everything in your power to convince me to keep my inheritance. And you’ve already gone behind my back to wheel and deal with my brother. What else are you hiding, Chloe?”
“Not a damned thing. You know, Nate, for a second there I thought I was actually falling in love with you. But that could never happen. I could never love a man who’d suggest I’d give him a blowjob and expect a fucking paycheck in return! I don’t care what you decide to do with your money. Have a nice life, Nate.”
Tears streamed down Chloe’s cheeks as she snatched her phone from the table and rushed past Nate. She paused only long enough to snatch her purse from the hook before she hurried out the back door. It slammed behind her as she fled across the old deck and down the rotting stairs toward the driveway where her car was parked. She didn’t even care that she was leaving with only the clothes on her back. He could keep her suitcase and clothes for all she cared. It was worth replacing all of her makeup and toiletries if it meant she never had to look at his face ever again.
“Son of a bitch!” Chloe’s fists came down on the steering wheel. She reached down and turned the key, slamming the car into reverse the second the engine roared to life. Tears blurred her vision, but she didn’t care as she sped down the narrow dirt lane that led away from Nate’s house. No one had ever hurt her so badly. Cut her so deep. It was a wound that she feared might never heal.
And the worst part? She’d given him the weapon that he’d wielded against her.
The two-hour drive back to Dallas was torture. One hundred and twenty minutes of time alone with her thoughts. Chloe went over, and over, and over the events of the past several days. Wishing she’d done or said something differently. It wasn’t like she’d scammed Nate or any of his brothers. And as far as dishonesty, her only mistake was not telling him before she had Hailey reach out to Travis.
Way to fuck yourself over, Chloe.
Her cell rang and Chloe’s heart stuttered in her chest. For the barest of seconds, she dared to hope that it was Nate calling. That he’d apologize and beg her to come back. It would take more than an apology though, wouldn’t it? No one had ever spoken such hurtful words
to her. So it was a relief that Hailey’s name popped up on the caller ID and not Nate’s. At least, that’s what she told herself.
“Hey, Hailey. I can’t talk right now—”
“I hate to interrupt your wild sex romp of a week, but we have a problem.”
Great. Her eyes drifted heavenward. Pile it on, why don’t you! “What’s the problem?”
“Oh, about three feet, ten inches, and sixty-five pounds of trouble,” Hailey replied wryly. “He was picked up for shoplifting and he told the cops that his foster mom worked here.”
Derrick. That little shit. “Can you drive him to his actual foster parents’ house?”
“I tried,” Hailey said in a near-whisper. “He told me he’d bolt if I took him back there.”
“I’m on my way back to the city.” She might as well deal with Derrick. What was one more disaster today? “Can you hang around for another half hour or so?”
“Sure. Why are you coming home early?”
Chloe didn’t acknowledge the concern in Hailey’s voice. If she did, she’d start bawling and wouldn’t stop until she rolled into Dallas. “I need to get some work done and Nate’s got ranch issues to deal with. No biggie.”
“All right,” Hailey said slowly. “I’ll see you in a bit. Drive safe.”
“Okay. Bye.”
A fresh wave of tears threatened, but Chloe swallowed them down. After what had happened between her and Nate tonight, there was no way she could move forward with Travis. She’d have Hailey call him tomorrow and cancel. With Christmas a week away, the chances of finding another donor were slim. She thought about Derrick. That cute, freckled pain in the ass deserved every leg up in life that he could get. Without the sports programs the foundation offered, it would only give him—and so many at-risk kids—more free time. More opportunities to find trouble.
Her love life had crashed and burned in glorious fashion tonight. Chloe would be damned if she let her professional life follow the same path. Tonight she’d get Derrick situated. Tomorrow, she’d hit the pavement and she wasn’t going to stop until she found someone—anyone—to help bail her foundation out. And then…? Then, she’d try to do something about mending her shattered heart.
Eleven
“Jesus, Nate. Why in the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Nate sat at the kitchen table, a bottle of beer clutched in his fist. Acid ate away at his stomach, burned a path up his throat. He’d really fucked up this time.
“Tell you what? That I hooked up with someone at Dad’s memorial service and have been fucking her ever since?”
Travis cut him a look. “I probably wouldn’t have put it that way, but yeah! You’re not an island for shit’s sake. It’s like you forget that any of us are around. Did you ever consider calling? Coming out to visit? Hell, inviting us out here? We don’t only have to talk when shit goes south, Nate.”
He knew that. But he’d been through so much shit over the past few years that he couldn’t ever seem to get out of his own headspace. Being with Chloe had finally started to coax him from that self-confinement. And instead of working through his anger like a goddamned adult, he’d lashed out at her yet again like a jaded kid. Said horrible things to her. He’d never wanted to take anything back so fucking badly.
“You’ve gotta let it go, brother.” Nate lifted his gaze to Travis’s. You’d think he was the oldest brother, the way he treated him. “She’s not Miranda.”
Nate hung his head between his shoulders. He’d been too much of a chicken shit to tell Chloe that the real reason he’d enlisted—had to get the fuck away from his father—was because he’d caught him with Miranda bent over his desk one afternoon. His fucking fiancée and his own dad, going at it as though the world were about to end and the future of the human race depended on their procreation. God. Even now thinking about it made his stomach turn.
Nate snorted. “You don’t know that.”
“Yeah, I do. The first time I talked to her, I asked why she’d come to me. She said that she knew about Carter’s situation and didn’t want to pile anything more on his plate. That Noah should be allowed to enjoy having money for a change. And when I asked why she hadn’t gone to you, she that you were signing your inheritance away and that she wasn’t interested in a piece of that pie.”
Another snort. “Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Listen to me, you pigheaded son of a bitch. If she’d been after you for your money, she would have asked you for it from the get-go. Believe me, she wasn’t even a little shy about shaking me down. Did she ever once tell you that her foundation was in trouble?”
“No.”
Travis gave him a pointed look. “Exactly. She wouldn’t have hesitated to lay her sob story out for you if all she’d been after was a check. From what I can tell, the woman is a saint, Nate. I’m giving her the money she needs. And for what it’s worth, everything she said to you was spot-on. Dad wanted us to have that money and the company. I absolutely think it was an apology. The man wasn’t perfect. In fact, he was as far from perfect as anyone I’ve ever known. But everyone deserves a second chance, Nate. Even him. And especially you.”
It was a nice sentiment. He doubted Chloe would ever give him the time of day, let alone a second chance after the things he’d said to her. It had been seven years since he and Miranda broke it off and he’d spent every day of it being a bitter, solemn, distrusting asshole. He’d finally found a woman who gave him the peace he craved and he’d driven her away. Nate didn’t know how he’d get through another hour without Chloe. Days … weeks without her? Impossible.
“Nate? Did you hear me?”
His vision came back into focus as he shook himself from his thoughts. Travis was staring down at him, a furrow marring his brow. “What?”
“I said, if you give a dime of that money to Miranda, Noah, Carter, and I are going to beat the shit out of you. You hear me? Quit punishing yourself for things that weren’t your fault to begin with and crawl out of the fucking hole you’ve been living in for the past year. This isn’t about taking over Dad’s legacy, Nate. It’s about using the opportunity to leave one of your own.”
“Yeah,” Nate said. He peered down at his bottle. “Okay.”
“And for the love of god, fix things with Chloe. I might not know anything about her, but she must be amazing. I’ve never seen you so wrecked. Make it right with her.”
Nate didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Travis said as he headed for the door. “You coming over for Christmas Eve dinner? Everyone else is.”
“Yeah,” Nate said without registering exactly what he was agreeing to. “See ya.”
The door closed behind Travis and the silence of his house swallowed Nate whole. Chloe’s absence gutted him, hollowed him out until he was nothing more than an empty shell. How could losing her scar him so deeply after knowing her for only a short time? Nate thought he’d felt all the pain there ever was to feel. Had experienced the gut-wrenching sorrow of loss. The anger of betrayal. The hollow ache of true heartbreak was a new and hellish torture, though. He hadn’t felt half of this when he’d found Miranda and his dad together. Did that mean that what he felt for Chloe was so much more than what he’d felt for a woman he’d been ready to marry?
Was he in love with Chloe?
Goddamn it, yes.
Travis was right. For years, he’d beat himself up. Blamed himself for Miranda’s cheating. Blamed his dad’s money for taking her away from him. And when he’d enlisted, that guilt carried over into everything he’d done. He tried to control every out-of-control situation. And when the one mission he’d thought would go off without a hitch went south, he’d blamed himself for that as well. Took responsibility for every single life lost. It was time to let go of the guilt that was slowly eating him alive. It was time to start living his life on his terms.
First things first, he was going to make things right between him and Chloe. Even if she didn’t want to see him, he’d ma
ke her hear him out. He refused to let her go, and he’d do anything to win her back.
Nate walked into the living room and grabbed his cell. He dialed and took a deep breath as he waited for her to answer. “Miranda, we need to talk.”
* * *
“You been cryin’, Chloe? Your eyes are all red.”
Chloe didn’t even have the emotional fortitude to feel embarrassed about the fact that she looked like a train wreck. She deposited Derrick’s duffle on the guest room floor. After a quick phone call to CPS, she and Derrick’s case worker both decided that it might be best if Derrick stayed with Chloe for a few days. Which was totally fine by Chloe. She needed the distraction. If she was too busy keeping her pint-sized houseguest in line she wouldn’t have time to dwell on the fact that her heart was shattered into a million irreparable pieces.
“Allergies,” she replied. “Okay, kiddo. I’m going to order a pizza and then you are going to do homework. Got it?”
Derrick huffed. “Whatev. I’d rather be playing ball.”
“Think of it this way,” Chloe said. “You do well in school, focus on soccer and not shoplifting, and maybe someday you’ll get the chance to play on a college field. How does that sound?”
“Awesome,” Derrick said. “MLS would be better, though.”
“If we’re going in that direction, Spanish Premier League would be better,” Chloe teased. “Let’s take it slow for now, okay? Because I’m telling you right now, kiddo. If you get into trouble one more time, you won’t be able to participate in foundation-sponsored club ball. If that happens, you might as well forget about MLS. Got it?”
“I got it,” Derrick said, his gaze downcast.
“All right. Get settled in. You can do your homework at the kitchen table.”
Chloe left Derrick in the guest room and headed into the living room. Her legs gave out when she hit the couch and she slumped down onto the cushions. She’d never felt so damned raw and now she had to deal with the guilt of making promises to a ten-year-old boy that she knew she’d never be able to keep.