by Kate Angell
“No, I don’t see the humor. If I don’t get away from her I’m going to do something stupid.”
“So do something stupid,” Nick said, as though it was no big deal. “There are worse things in life than taking your far-too-gorgeous friend to bed.”
“Are you insane? This is Chloe. My Chloe. She’s not some girl I can hook up with.” Was he hysterical? Because he sounded hysterical.
“Calm down. I’m sorry, but I fail to see the problem.”
Jack growled. “You’re not helping.”
“Look. You’re practically married to the girl anyway, you should get the advantage of sex.”
Jack held the phone away and looked at it like it might grow a second head, before holding it back up to his ear. “Forget it. You don’t understand. I’ll sleep in the car until this madness passes.”
“Good luck with that.”
Jack hung up, with Nick still laughing.
That was no help at all.
Jack stared at the bathroom door.
Time for a cold shower. Maybe that would cool him the fuck off.
* * *
“What do you mean, just do it already?” Chloe screeched into her cell phone.
Her friend, Nora Clyborn, was not taking this news the way Chloe expected. The way she needed her to.
“I mean,” Nora said in a calm voice, “just do it already. You should have done it a million years ago.”
Chloe leaned up against a tree and closed her eyes. This was a disaster. “Jack and I do not have sex.”
“Well, you should,” Nora shot back. “You really, really should.”
“Are you crazy? Did you have mimosas for breakfast?”
“Nope.” Nora was clearly amused. “Consider it your civic duty to all the single people in town.”
Chloe’s head started to pound, and she pressed her finger to her temple. Her friend had clearly gone crazy right along with Chloe. “I don’t even understand what you’re talking about.”
Nora sighed. “If you and Jack finally got together, you’d be putting every single person in town out of their misery. They could give up on you guys as an option.”
Chloe gritted her teeth, vaulted off the tree, and paced through the leaves. She kicked them and watched them fly and flitter to the ground without the satisfying force she needed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
There was a pause on the line before Nora said, “Do I need to remind you of Greg?”
Ugh! He was the last person she wanted to talk about.
“I don’t see what the big deal was. He overreacted.” Chloe took another vicious swipe at the leaves, thinking back to her conversation with Jack by the lake. Maybe that’s the problem, Chloe.
No. She didn’t have a problem. They didn’t have a problem. She liked her relationship with Jack exactly as it was.
“Chloe,” Nora said, her voice soft. “Give the guy a break, he went over to your house to surprise you with your favorite breakfast and found you sleeping on the couch with Jack. Put yourself in his shoes.”
“But that was nothing,” Chloe insisted, her voice stubborn even though something niggled away at her. “Jack had a bad night, we watched movies and fell asleep. It was totally innocent.”
“So you’re saying you’d be cool with your boyfriend curled up like that with another woman?”
“Jack is my friend, nothing more.”
“How come when I have a bad day you don’t snuggle up to me?”
Chloe just managed to keep herself from screaming, “Because you’re a girl!” An argument that wouldn’t help her case. She cleared her throat. “Look, I should go.”
“Just think about it,” Nora said. “Wait. Don’t think about it. Just do it. Jump. He’s your fate.”
A sudden coldness washed over Chloe. Amelia Rose’s words rang in her ears. Absently she said, “I’ll talk to you later.”
She hung up with Nora still talking.
Slowly, Chloe walked back to the room, her mind spinning. Okay, there had to be a way to get this under control.
They were adults.
In charge of their hormones and bodies.
They just needed to keep talking. Keep communicating.
Do what they did best. As friends.
She pulled the skeleton key out of her pocket.
Everything would be fine. Jack would get another room and tomorrow would be a new day. They’d forget all about this.
The lock clicked.
They’d get through this.
She twisted the doorknob.
They had thirty years of experience; they could make it through one more night.
Piece of cake.
She opened the door.
Jack came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a towel.
Oh dear God, she was in trouble.
Chapter 7
Chloe’s mouth went dry.
Her gaze swept over him, standing there, hair slicked back and wet. Water sliding over his tanned skin.
She gulped.
Unable to tear her gaze away from all his hard muscles.
They stood there, frozen, staring at each other as though they’d never seen each other before.
She took in his broad shoulders. The tat, a scrolling tribal shield of protection in black, on his left bicep. She’d been there when he’d gotten it. They were supposed to do it together but she’d backed out, not willing to commit to one thing gracing her skin for the rest of her life.
She wanted to trace the pattern with her tongue.
She flushed hot at the thought, the image so clear in her mind she could almost taste his skin.
A rivulet of water trailed a slow path, starting at his chest, down his ridiculous stomach, before disappearing under his towel.
He was a work of art.
Her lungs burned and she realized she held her breath. She exhaled and it sounded like a harsh gasp. Needy. Revealing.
“Chloe,” Jack said, breaking the spell.
She ripped her gaze away from his body. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” His gaze dipped to her mouth and lingered.
She pressed against the closed door.
“I’m having a hard time not coming over there.” His voice was so low and gruff it sent a shiver through her.
Her breath kicked up. She meant to say he should go put some clothes on, but those weren’t the words that came out of her mouth. “What would you do?”
He crossed his arms, propping one shoulder against the bathroom door as his gaze raked over her. “It wouldn’t be pretty.”
She licked her lips. “I don’t like pretty.”
His expression darkened. “And what do you like?”
She really needed to put a stop to this. Right now. Her attention flicked to the bed. “I wouldn’t mind breaking the bed.”
“That can be arranged.”
“I certainly hope so.”
He took two steps toward her and she took two steps toward him.
She was going to tear him apart.
They both jerked to a stop and blinked at each other.
Jack ran a hand through his hair. “Christ. I . . . I don’t know what came over me.”
“Me, either.” She didn’t know what was stronger, the relief or the disappointment.
“We need to talk about this.”
She nodded. “We do.” She bit her lip and glanced behind him. “But do you think you could put some clothes on first?”
He looked down, as though surprised to find himself almost naked. “Good idea.”
Then he went into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.
Chloe sank onto the bed.
This was a total disaster.
* * *
Jack stared at himself in the bathroom mirror.
I don’t like pretty. Chloe’s words filled his head, making him stupid. Oh, so fucking stupid.
He had no idea what happened out there but it ended now. He quickly toweled off, put on jeans and a black knit s
hirt.
They just had to figure out a plan.
He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before entering the bedroom.
She sat on the edge of the bed, and he quickly veered around her to sit on one of the chairs lining the bay window of the room.
He rested his elbows on his knees and laced his fingers. “How do you want to handle this?”
Her gaze darted toward him and quickly away. “Did you find another room?”
“There’s not one hotel room available in a fifty-mile radius.” He shook his head. “I’ll sleep in the car.”
Her brows knit. “No, you can’t do that.”
“Let’s worry about it later.” Right now, that seemed too far away and he needed to concentrate on the here and now. Getting through the next fifteen minutes without breaking the bed. “I don’t get it, Chlo.”
“Me, either. It’s like as soon as we left that room with Aunt Iris and Amelia Rose, something came over me and now I can’t stop thinking of you . . .” She cleared her throat. “That way.”
He was a man of science. He did not believe in magic or fortunes or fate. So he could not believe he was going to say this, but he was. “Do you think there was something in those cookies?”
“Like what?” She tilted her head. “Is there some sort of powerful aphrodisiac the world doesn’t know about?”
Yep, it sounded as crazy as he thought. “Not that I’m aware of.”
She tapped her chin. “There must be another explanation. Is it possible we’re undersexed and we’re all that’s available at the moment?”
Yes, that must be it. What other explanation could there be? He cocked a brow. “Should we test the theory?”
“How?”
“The party . . . it’s starting soon, right?”
She nodded, and Jack tried not to get distracted by the spun honey gold in her hair hitting the sunlight.
He frowned. What the hell? He didn’t have those kinds of thoughts about regular women, let alone Chloe. Spun honey gold? Pretty soon he’d have to start writing for fucking Hallmark. “I see no other choice but to hit on other people and see if that helps.”
The words tasted like dirt. He forced his hands to relax instead of curling into fists at the thought of another man hitting on her.
She stared at him for a full thirty seconds before her chin tilted. “We have no other choice.”
“No, we don’t.”
Her lips curled into a smile. “Let the games begin.”
Chapter 8
She wore the costume.
Of course she wore the costume. It was Chloe, after all.
Jack had stuck to his jeans and a black pullover while she walked around half-naked. How was he supposed to hit on other women with her looking like that?
The party was in full swing, the house lit with jack-o’-lanterns and candles, strung with some sort of orange and black elaborate garland, and packed with about every conceivable Halloween decoration imaginable. There were plenty of available women making their way through the bed-and-breakfast.
And plenty available men, all making a beeline in Chloe’s direction.
Jack gritted his teeth. What the hell? This was supposed to be a family town.
Unfortunately, Jack didn’t blame them. Living in a small town, he understood; anyone new was like shark bait. Instantly attractive by their novelty alone.
When they looked like Chloe, it was even worse.
Tonight, in her barely there costume, she looked unbelievable. Her hair was a wild mess, making her look like she had indeed been living in the jungle. Her makeup was dark and smoky, giving her a mysterious flair.
He wanted to go over and claim her.
It was absolutely ridiculous.
Currently, she talked to some guy. He was tall and a little too slick-looking for Jack’s comfort. In fact, he didn’t like the look of the man one bit. Nor did he like the way he looked at Chloe. All hungry and conniving, like he was plotting to kidnap her.
By mutual agreement they’d agreed to stay away from each other, giving the sexual tension between them a chance to wear off.
It hadn’t.
Over the guy’s shoulder Chloe’s eyes locked on his. Sucking him in. Making him want her.
He should look away, but couldn’t.
He kept staring at her like he’d never seen her before. It was like a veil had been lifted from his eyes.
His heart gave a hard thump as he remembered the fortune from this afternoon and an eerie sense of foreboding raised the hair on the back of his neck.
Was he losing his mind?
“Is everything okay?” The soft, female voice ripped him from his thoughts.
Jack blinked down at the blond-haired woman staring up at him with huge, doe-like brown eyes. She was just his type. All soft and adorable. But he’d forgotten she was there.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry.”
She gave him a sweet smile and tilted her head in Chloe’s direction. “You should go get her. It’s obvious she’s the only woman in the room for you.”
Jack shook his head. “It’s not like that. She’s my best friend.”
“Well, you and your best friend are burning up the place.” She laughed.
What was the woman’s name? Jack searched his mind, drawing a complete blank, before he gave up. He shrugged. “Everyone thinks that, but I swear, we’re just friends.”
“Maybe everyone thinks that for a reason,” she said, her voice low and soothing.
The statement stopped him cold.
Was that true? Even before today Chloe had always been a source of contention between him and other women. Women he always kept at a distance, never letting them get too close or slip too deep into his life. His reasons had always been clear in his mind. His life was full. He had a demanding job. He was young and not interested in being tied down. He liked to keep his relationships with women as uncomplicated as possible.
But was there another motive he didn’t want to think about? That he didn’t admit, even to himself?
Was Chloe that reason?
No, he wasn’t that stupid. Until today he’d never allowed himself to think about Chloe sexually. He just liked her company more than anyone else’s. That was why she was his best friend. It didn’t mean more than that.
Did it?
“Go get her,” the woman next to him said.
Once again he glanced in Chloe’s direction to find her watching him. She looked at the woman and scowled. He looked at the man next to her and scowled.
They both looked away.
What was happening?
As crazy as it sounded, he was sure it had something to do with those cookies. That fortune. And he intended to find out what was going on so he could put an end to it.
He smiled at the blonde. “I hope you have a good time.”
She smiled back. “I will. The annual Halloween party at Rose Cottage is legendary.”
Again the hair on the back of his neck rose and he cocked a brow. “How’s that?”
A lilting laugh. “It’s said that when people attend the party they find their true love.”
A shiver raced down his spine. “Isn’t that supposed to be Valentine’s Day?”
“Not here. In Moonbright, it’s Halloween that’s magic.”
Before he could process the information any further, Chloe came over with her new friend—whom Jack wanted to punch in the face.
She smiled at Jack, her lips a full and glossy pink. She put a hand on the man’s forearm. “Jack, this is Anthony, he’s the fire chief.”
Great, a fucking fireman. Because women never went for the hero type. Jack clenched the bottle of beer he’d been drinking and nodded. “Jack Swanson.”
Anthony gave Jack a good-natured grin. “Good to meet you, mate.”
He had a goddamn Australian accent.
Chloe loved accents. She constantly raved about them, gushing over English, French, Irish, and Italian accents like they were panty-mel
ting crack.
So, wait, did this mean she’d found someone to take her mind off Jack? Was this all going to be one-sided? Was he going to have to endure a hard case of lust that would not quit while she entertained herself with the fire chief?
Clearly Jack was trapped in one of Dante’s nine circles of hell. There was no other reasonable explanation.
Chloe looked expectantly at the woman he’d been talking to.
Jack made no move to introduce her, because he had no idea what her name was. Something with an M? An N?
Chloe held out her hand. “I’m Chloe Armstrong, Iris is my aunt.”
“Olivia Barnes.” She shook Chloe’s hand.
He was close on the name. O was the next letter in the alphabet.
Olivia was dressed as an angel, and she shifted her wings. “I know Iris, she’s such a help at the school.”
Chloe’s brows furrowed and she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “Are you a teacher?”
Olivia nodded. “I teach second grade.”
“How lovely,” Chloe said, then turned to Fire Boy. “Do you know Olivia?”
Anthony’s eyes locked on to Olivia. “I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”
Olivia bit her lip and a pretty blush stained her cheeks. “It’s nice to meet you.”
In the small space, their hands met.
They both went still, appearing not to breathe.
Jack raised a brow at Chloe, who shrugged, before she beamed. “Well, if you’ll excuse us . . .”
The fire chief and the schoolteacher didn’t even notice when they walked away.
They strolled out of the main room and into the open foyer. Jack grabbed Chloe’s bare arm, swinging her around to face him. “Were you playing matchmaker?”
“I thought they might hit it off,” Chloe said with a nonchalant shrug.
“Why? He looked like your type. Complete with the coveted accent.” The jealousy still sang in his blood, not yet caught up to the fact that he had nothing to worry about. Or that he shouldn’t be worrying in the first place.
“I . . .” She trailed off, expression pained.
Jack’s attention fell to her mouth. “It’s not working.”
She smiled and it completely dazzled him. “I know. I wanted to claw her eyes out.”
His mood lightened considerably. “I thought about punching the guy in his stupid five-o’clock-shadowed jaw.”