“Number one, you’ve got to stop reading that book on tantric sex. There is no such thing as an alternate pleasure dimension. It just sounds hippie-dippie.”
“Can’t rule out the pleasure dimension until I actually try achieving it. The substitute yoga instructor this week is fascinatingly flexible. He asked if I’d be willing to stick around for some private instruction tomorrow morning.” Summer slid her foot—in a red cowboy boot—up her leg, to plant it at the top of her thigh, in a perfect tree pose. “I plan on starting my quest with him.”
Summer would no doubt have a great time with the bendy teacher. She’d also, no doubt, change yoga classes in a maximum of three weeks to avoid running into him once she’d finished her sexual drive-by. It made Chloe sad sometimes. Often, really. Summer was so wonderful. She deserved to be happy. Chloe knew Summer was having fun. But she also knew that underneath all that fun, her friend wasn’t really as happy as she acted.
Chloe plopped back onto the faded teal cushion. “And number two, I do have something to run by my BFF.”
Summer picked up a diaphanous cream scarf and wafted it at Chloe. “What is it?”
Maybe saying it out loud would exorcise it from her system. Or at the very least, get her a sympathetic hug and an offer of lunch from Summer. Twisting her rings, Chloe said, “I’m scared of how deeply I’ve fallen for him. Everything is moving so fast with us. It feels right. It feels—not perfect, because we snap at each other, but who wants perfect? It feels normal. It feels right. It feels meant to be.”
This time, the scarf snapped with a sting on her bare arm. “Darn it, I told you three years ago to get this over with.”
“What?”
“Sex.”
A half laugh, half snort came out. “Summer, I can’t just get it over with. It isn’t like getting your emissions tested.”
“At this point? It should be.” Another whip of the scarf. “You said you didn’t want to wait for the perfect guy.”
“I don’t. I didn’t.” That wasn’t just a line she’d fed people to take away from her pathetic-ness. There’d been zero expectation of a mash-up between first sex and a truly meaningful relationship. “But in the midst of my looking for Mr. Hot-Enough-but-Not-a-Douchebag, I think I accidentally found The One.” Chloe’s heart fluttered. Her stomach flipped. From excitement, though, not nerves or second-guessing. Telling Summer was a great start. Now she wanted to run out and tell Griffin. Maybe tell the whole world.
“No.” Summer scrunched up her face, as though searching for the right words. None of which Chloe believed she wanted to hear. “You’re getting too emotionally involved with this guy. There’s no way he’s The One.”
Her high school friends were getting married at breakneck speed. Summer had already hooked up with groomsmen at three weddings since Valentine’s Day. Right now was evidently the time to grab a guy for life. Not that she was ready to plan an entire future with Griff, but all signs pointed to his being a more than acceptable candidate. She didn’t understand Summer’s insistence that Griff was doomed for the discard pile.
“Why the heck not?” Chloe ticked off his attributes on her fingers. “He’s honorable, brave, hotter than D.C. in July, funny—oh, and he likes me. He likes me a lot.”
“Of course he does. But all of that doesn’t matter. He’s your first, Chloe. He can’t be The One. It doesn’t work that way. Have your fun, by all means, but don’t think that you two have a future together. Griffin’s probably your happy-for-three-months, not your happily-ever-after.”
There was that pang of sadness in her chest again for her friend. Her lonely, refusing-to-risk-her-heart-for-love friend. All of Summer’s visible wounds from the shooting had healed. Her heart was another matter. “Love happens, Summer. Usually when you least expect it and aren’t looking for it.”
“Whoa. You’re upgrading to love already?” Tossing the scarf over the end of a rack, now Summer paced the narrow aisle. Her swinging arms knocked three dresses to the floor. Clearly they needed to move to a larger venue for their next serious discussion. “This is worse than I thought.”
Chloe wondered if, instead, she should go out and tell Elisa she was falling in love. Maybe then she’d get the squeals and hugs she’d been expecting her very best friend in the world to deliver. Okay, not expecting. Not with Summer’s emotional baggage. Hoping for, though.
She wagged a finger at Summer. “One of these days you’ll have to admit that love’s a gamble worth taking.”
“Gambling is illegal in more than thirty states for a reason. It creates an unhealthy addiction that always leads to loss. Often a bigger loss than the gambler can afford.”
Today was obviously not the day to try a little amateur therapy on Summer. The whole thing was chipping away at Chloe’s excitement and her resolve to vamp it up for Griffin. “Can we agree to disagree for now? I hate fighting with you.”
Summer’s whole face drooped. “Me too, you.”
Whew. Argument over and balance restored. Hopefully, when she told Griffin how she felt about him, the whole thing would go over much better. “So we’re done?”
“Not quite.” Another squinch of her face. Great. “The thing is? I just don’t want you to get hurt. You’ve been through so much. Your mom’s got you in a life lockdown”—holding up a hand to ward off Chloe’s bazillionth retort on the matter, she plowed on—“so you deserve some fun. With a great guy, which I’m sure Griffin is. But I’m not sure you know how easily your heart could be broken.”
What—because Griffin was used to flying around the world and trying new things and, oh, actually leaving the sixty-eight square miles that comprised the District of Columbia on a regular basis? Because there was every chance he’d get bored of her homebody lifestyle and seek out someone willing to try new things? Someone who wasn’t tethered to her phone and her mother? Oh, Chloe thought about the potential for Griffin to break her heart all the time.
“I do know. That’s part of why I’m scared. Given all that, I still think falling for Griffin is worth every bit of the potential risk.”
After a long, searching look that was like a polygraph straight to Chloe’s heart, Summer nodded.
“Okay.”
Then she leaned over to hug Chloe, and the whole chair started to rock off of its base. The two of them had toppled it over while hugging more times than could be counted. And yet they kept trying to make it work. Chloe hoped they never stopped. She also stuck a foot out to steady them and grabbed the edge of an overhead shelf for balance.
“Get off me before we finally break this thing.” Laughing, they both managed to climb out of the cushioned bowl. “How about we go back to the very-simple-for-you, hard-for-me decision of what to wear to this party?”
“Already done. I pulled something for you as soon as you called.” Summer pointed at the outfit hanging on the back of the door, which Chloe hadn’t even noticed. “The sleeveless orange top is draped to make your boobs look bigger. Sleeveless, so he can feel your skin all night. White lace mini and peep-toe orange platforms to make your legs look ten feet long.”
It was perfect. Sexy. Seductive. Nothing Chloe would’ve picked out for herself even if she’d shopped for a week straight. But if Summer thought she could pull it off, then she would make darn sure that she did. “You’re really good at your job. Or really good at figuring out how to entice a man.”
“Say I’m both and we’ll get out of here. There’s a new vegan place around the corner I want to try for lunch.”
Summer definitely had the whole boho-chic vibe going. She believed in free love and choked down all sorts of stinky alternative herbal medicines. But, last Chloe had checked, the girl could chow a medium-rare burger faster than almost anyone. “You’re not a vegan.”
“God, no. But I think there’s a higher chance of meeting someone who has the knowledge to help me look for that tantric pleasure dimension in a vegan restaurant than in a rib joint.”
Chloe liked a good salad. Vegan f
ood, however, kind of scared her. Something on the plate was always weirdly slimy. But after finding such a great outfit, she owed Summer this. “We’ll go there. On one condition.”
“Yes, if I discover the secret highway to the pleasure dimension, I’ll draw you a map to give Griffin.”
They both giggled as they left the storeroom. “I’m not going to hold my breath for that one. I just want you to promise to take me to Georgetown Cupcake if I’m still hungry after whatever weirdness we eat for lunch.”
“You’ve got to be more open to trying new things, Chloe. You might like tofu if you did more than poke it with your fork and watch it jiggle.”
“You know what? I think I’m covered this month for new things, what with losing my virginity. Let’s not push it.”
Chapter 13
Chloe plucked at the sleeve of Griffin’s tan sports coat as they stood in line in the muggy spring air. “Tell me why you didn’t wear your dress uniform?”
Should he tell her the truth? That it was because he was pissed off at his commander, at his squadron, and at the entire Coast Guard in general right now? And because wearing his uniform reminded him that he wasn’t wearing a flight suit. And because he didn’t know if he’d be stuck wearing that stupid tie around his neck every damn day from here on out?
Nah. Sounding like a whiny little bitch wouldn’t get this date off on the right foot. Instead, Griff made an exaggerated wince. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re one of those uniform-chasing girls. The ones who drop their panties whenever a Navy midshipman from Annapolis wanders by holding a dress sword?”
She sucked in a breath. “You have a sword?”
For fuck’s sake. “No.” No matter how normal and grounded a woman seemed, they all lost it whenever a uniform sword glittered in front of them. Ever since the television ads that showed a Marine wearing dress blues and wielding a sword, it had become a magnet for women. Probably accounted for lower recruitment numbers in the Coast Guard, too.
“Oh.” Chloe visibly worked to erase the disappointment from her face. This time she ran a hand down his sleeve. Lingered at the bottom with her thumb caressing the side of his wrist. “Remember, you’re the one who picked me up, mister. No indiscriminate panty dropping going on here. I was minding my own business, starting my workday, when you insinuated yourself into my life.”
Lifting her hand, he kissed the back of it. Then flipped it over to lick a teasing circle where blue veins showed through her pale skin. At her shiver, Griff made a seal with his lips and sucked until another shiver escaped her. Looking up, he said, “Good thing I’m a take-charge kind of guy.”
“In that particular instance, yes.”
“I think you’ll find it useful in other instances, too.” Even though Griff knew Chloe was more than smart enough to pick up on his innuendo, he squeezed her hip to be sure she got it. Also because he couldn’t stop touching her tonight. She was completely different. He’d done a double take when he’d picked her up.
Tonight she’d come out of her self-imposed cocoon. Gone was the natural beauty, the comfortable-in-her-own-skin girl who’d captivated him. She’d been replaced with a seductive siren. It made Chloe sound like the star in a black-and-white movie, but there was no better description. Her speech was slightly slower. Softer. Just enough to make him lean in close enough to smell her perfume. Which hardened his dick with every whiff. It smelled like midnight and a saxophone solo and moonlight all wrapped up in vanilla. It drove him crazy.
Their dating hadn’t followed the standard lines. No long candlelit dinners with him in a tie and her dressed to impress. Or, more to the point, him trying to catch glimpses of her cleavage every time she leaned forward to pick up her wine. No impressive dress-for-success outfits that showcased her power and her femininity for him to see as he picked her up from work for a date.
No, Griffin had fallen for the real Chloe. The version of a woman a guy didn’t usually get to see until they had at least a couple of months of dating under their belt. He was crazy about how her hair up in a messy ponytail gave him easy access to nibble her neck. Thought she was adorable in her eighteen shades of yoga pants and hoodies. Loved the smudges of ink on her fingers.
Loved? Loved? Where’d that come from? And where had all the air gone? They were standing outside. Plenty of gray twilight all around them, but no oxygen was getting into his lungs.
Sure, Chloe had an inner strength unmatched by almost anyone he’d ever met. Sure, she had a quiet wit that could snap at your funny bone like a piranha. She actually understood what he’d gone through when stuck in the Alps. Had faced Death down just as he had. Didn’t want it to define her life, just like him. She got his moods, like when he’d needed to not talk about what went down with the commander and to get in a better head space before telling her about it.
But was all that, put together with the sweetest smile he’d ever seen and eyes he could drown in, enough to invoke the L-word? The word he and the ACSs all swore they’d never utter until they were one hundred and fifteen percent certain about it—and so they’d never said it to a woman yet?
Love meant commitment. It meant a future. Taking on the responsibility of the other person’s life. It meant sharing plans and decisions and probably giving up time with the ACSs. Not to mention being mercilessly mocked by the guys. None of that had been on Griff’s radar. He had his career. His friends. Didn’t have to do much to get sex whenever he wanted it. Why change all that?
Suddenly, his throat opened again. Air flooded into his lungs, blood back to his brain. Like a switch had flipped, Griffin knew the answer. Of course Chloe was the reason to change everything. Chloe made him happy. Chloe made him want to turn himself inside out making her happy. She made him believe in the possibility of forever. She was everything necessary in his life that he hadn’t even realized was missing.
And he’d already screwed it up a couple of times. Shit. Griff needed to get serious. Put some real effort into romancing her more. Anything to help Chloe overlook that he still lived in a house with his best friends from high school, and might be out of a job. Or be on the verge of quitting his job. Not to mention there was a real probability he’d make an ass out of himself to millions of people on satellite radio in two days.
Yeah, he was definitely the short straw in this relationship. But he could help Chloe, too. That’s why he’d brought her to this embassy party—to start wedging open that door she kept her life and her dreams locked behind. He’d save her from a life unlived. That ought to even the score between them.
The flick of Chloe’s fingers against his lapel brought his attention out of the quicksand of emotion where he’d been stuck. In a flash, he was back underneath the trees that sifted pollen onto them with every shift of the breeze, which also fluttered the giant red and green flag hanging above the front door of the embassy. “Griffin? Where’d you go?”
Embarrassed to be caught daydreaming, he huffed out a laugh. “The future, I guess.”
“Wow.” She goggled at him exaggeratedly. “And I thought taking a virtual trip to Portugal tonight was a big deal. Throw in time travel, and this is the best date ever!”
“Very funny. You’re supposed to think this embassy party is a big deal.”
“Oh, I do. Seriously. I bought a new outfit for it, so that proves I’m seriously excited.” She spun just enough to flare her skirt up. It revealed even more of the smooth thigh he longed to touch. Longed to have wrapped around his hips. God, waiting to have Chloe was killing him. Or turning him back into his seventeen-year-old self, who had thought about sex every three-point-six seconds. One who had spent a lot of extra time in the shower.
“Trust me, I noticed the outfit.” His gaze zeroed in on the way her top clung to the rounded sides of her breasts. The way it dipped low, revealing the shadowy valley between them. Another place Griffin longed to touch. It took all his self-control to drag his gaze back up to her eyes, the same deep shade as his dress blues. A color he’d never thought of as
special until he saw it glowing in Chloe’s face. “As will every other man in the place.”
“You’re the only one who matters.” But her cheeks pinked at the compliment.
Their line surged forward. Everyone in it was their age. Half the people appeared to be on dates. The other half were clumped by gender. Aka, hoping to find a date by the end of the night. Embassy parties were total meat markets.
Griff did another quick up and down of Chloe. And then took her hand, to claim her as off-limits to the trio of drooling men just behind them staring at her ass. From their boat shoes and khakis, he pegged them as medical residents at Georgetown. Sure hoped they knew how to heal a broken heart, ’cause he wouldn’t give them an inch of an opening to try for Chloe.
“Hope it’s okay there are so many people here. The food may go fast, but the dance floor will be more fun.”
“Are you kidding? An embassy is sovereign territory. So technically, we are stepping foot on Portugal tonight. That’s beyond awesome. I’m so glad you thought of it.”
He didn’t want to dial down her enthusiasm. Also didn’t want Chloe to get excited over something that wasn’t true. “Pretty sure that the United States still owns the dirt under all these bricks.” Griffin stretched out an arm to pat one of four red pillars flanking the front door.
Chloe blew a raspberry at him. “I don’t care. It still feels like the farthest from home that I’ve ever been. In a metaphorical sense, which is good enough for me. I mean, how do you top this? A trip to space?”
He stroked his chin, pretending to think. “Let’s see—I know a captain over at NASA. Kind of a tight ass about rules and regs, so he wouldn’t do us any good. But I can get you into a behind-the-scenes tour at the Air and Space Museum. Would that count?”
“Oh my gosh, Griff, I was just kidding.” Chloe jumped in place, just enough to flip up her skirt again and send all his blood south of his belt. “But that would be amazing! Would I get to sit inside Apollo 11?”
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