It’s a risk, whispered the angel.
She didn’t do risky.
And yet, she’d jumped out of a plane the previous weekend, hadn’t she? Garth’s words crept into her mind. “You want to be impulsive and spontaneous, deep down. You’re a thrill seeker, same as me.” She still didn’t agree with him. She had no interest in being reckless. Icy fear gripped her stomach at the thought that she might be turning into her mother.
But this wasn’t about a cheap thrill, throwing all caution to the wind to experience a high. This involved a calculated risk—a business investment, not a gamble. Garth was wrong. He didn’t know her at all. He’d just made a fleeting comment to a stranger he’d taken a liking to.
She doodled on the pad. Okay, perhaps it did involve a huge risk. But she loved the idea of running Cocoa Heaven. Having her own chocolate shop would be a dream come true. So maybe she could take a risk, just this once. It wouldn’t be the same as taking a risk in love. This would be carried out with her head. She wouldn’t let her heart anywhere near it.
Chapter Six
For the next two days, Chloe worked on a business plan. By Friday night, her head buzzed with figures, and she happily agreed to go out with Stella for a drink.
“How’s it coming along?” Stella lifted her face to the late evening sun as they walked along the seafront toward their favorite bar. The bay was calm and glittered turquoise. On the beach, seagulls clamored over someone’s leftover fish and chips.
“Good.” Chloe had briefed Stella on her plan to buy out Cocoa Heaven. “I have an appointment with the bank for Monday. I think I have all the details I need. I have no idea what I’m doing, but that’s what the small business managers are there for, right? To give advice?”
“Sure. You really think it could work?”
Chloe had mused on little else since she came up with the idea. Well, when she wasn’t musing on Garth Rowland. “It might. I really want to give it a go, Stella. It’s just what I need. I’ve felt lost for so long, and now I’m so excited. I’ve always wanted to run my own business, and I can’t think of anything better than a chocolate shop.”
“That’s so cool.”
“Equally, I don’t want to rush into anything. That’s why I want to do it properly and make sure I take good advice.”
“I understand.” Stella had been Chloe’s best friend for years, and she knew what an impact her mother had had on her life. “It’s great to see you enthusiastic about something, though. For ages I thought Ethan had damaged you for life.”
“Oh, he did, in some things. I’m not going to find it easy to trust a man again.”
They crossed the road to the bar and wove their way through the tables on the front patio to the darker interior.
Stella stopped so abruptly that Chloe walked straight into her.
“Jeez, what did you do that for?” She glanced past her friend and froze at the sight of Ethan Robins sitting at a table to one side with a few mates. She gasped. “I don’t believe it.”
Stella turned to march her out the bar, but Ethan had seen them. He rose and came over reluctantly, his face cautious. He wore his smart work suit, although he’d removed his tie and looked as handsome as ever. For the first time, though, she noticed his slicked-back hair and his cheap aftershave, so coarse compared to Garth’s subtle scent. He smelled like a used-car salesman. His eyes were too close together, and his lips curled in a smile that bordered on a sneer. How could she ever have loved this guy?
“Hey,” he said. His voice held insolence rather than the shame she would have expected.
She stood ramrod straight, stiff with indignation. “Hi.”
“It’s good to see you.” He gave an uncomfortable Stella a kiss on the cheek, then came forward to do the same to Chloe, but she stepped back. His lips curved. “How have you been?”
“Fine, thank you.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other. Chloe’s heart pounded and nausea rose in her throat. He lived and worked in Kaikohe, a half hour’s drive away, and she’d not seen him in Paihia since they broke up. How incredibly unfortunate to bump into him like this.
She should make polite conversation, ask him what he’d been up to, but her tongue had stuck to the roof of her mouth and her brain had gone blank. He glanced over at the table where he’d been sitting. His mates nudged each other and laughed, and her cheeks grew hot. Had he told them all about her? Including what a pushover she’d been?
Stella cleared her throat and glared at Ethan. “Well, this is in no way awkward.” She glanced at Chloe. “Are you okay?”
Chloe gathered her wits. “Come on Stella. I’ve changed my mind. I’d rather go home.”
Ethan tipped his head at her. Amusement lit his eyes. “Something I said?”
Chloe’s hands curled into fists at her side. He didn’t look embarrassed or remorseful. If anything, he looked smug.
Slap him, screamed the devil. Kick him in the balls. Tear his frickin’ head off.
Instead, however, she turned on her heel and walked out.
Stella caught up with her as she marched back along the seafront. “Chloe, wait.”
Chloe stopped and turned, not knowing whether to scream or cry. “I can’t believe it. Of all the places…”
“Fucking bastard.” Stella glowed with fury. “How dare he come to your town, to your favorite bar?”
All of sudden, Chloe’s anger faded, leaving her limp with tiredness. “I don’t suppose he imagined I’d be there.”
“Even so…”
“It’s all right, Stella. I’m okay.”
Stella clenched her jaw. “You’re not, and I’m tempted to go back in there and knock him on his ass.”
Chloe laughed at that. “What would I do without you?”
“I have no idea.” Stella put her arms around her and hugged her for a moment.
Resting her cheek on Stella’s shoulder, Chloe looked out at the waves. “Can we go home now?”
Stella shook her head. “You need a drink more than ever. Let’s go to 35 Degrees.”
“I don’t know…”
“Come on. Imagine how much better you’ll feel with a couple glasses of Sauvignon inside you.”
She let Stella bully her along the seafront. Her stomach churned, but she made herself listen to the waves on the sandy beach and the laughter of some teenagers as they messed around in the surf. She couldn’t change Ethan or what he’d done to her. The only thing she could change was her reaction to him. He had power over her because she gave it to him. At the moment, she couldn’t shake the anguish that boiled in her stomach every time she thought of him, but she hated feeling like that, and she wanted to move on.
An image popped into her mind of a brown-haired guy leaning forward to kiss her, his lips soft on hers. Maybe the best way to get Ethan out of her head would be to start dating again.
Then she sighed. She’d blown it with Garth. She’d been very clear in telling him anyone doing his kind of job held no interest for her.
Well, there were other fish in the sea, weren’t there? A gannet dived into the ocean and emerged with a snapper in its beak. There you go. Surely there was someone out there for her?
Still, her mind lingered on Garth as they walked along the grassy bank above the beach, the evening sun warming her cheeks. “He’s single, gorgeous, and rich,” Stella had said. “What more could you want?”
What more do you want? asked the devil.
Chloe frowned, unsure. He was the first guy she’d met since she split up with Ethan who sent a tingle from her head to her…feet. Sure, he had a dangerous job, but she’d dated an investment banker because she’d considered him safe, and look where that had got her.
She sighed, her gaze lingering on where the setting sun had spread streaks of scarlet across the bay. She’d probably ruined things with Garth. And did she really want the hassle of a new relationship now? Maybe it would be better to concentrate on her business idea for a while. Romance w
ould only complicate matters.
Chapter Seven
“Two handles of Lion Red please,” Garth said.
The bartender poured them and Garth paid, then took the glasses over to where Mat sat looking out at the Pacific Ocean.
“Cheers.” Mat drank half his in one go.
“Steady on.” Garth sat down.
“I need it. It’s so hot today.”
“Yeah, true.” He took a long swig of the golden ale. “I thought I was going to roast in the plane like a Christmas turkey.”
Mat smiled. “I’m glad you came out tonight. It does you good to get out of the house.”
Garth looked across the red-tinged sea to the boats bobbing on the horizon. Mat liked to think he knew Garth better than Garth did himself. Mat was certainly his closest friend, and the only person in the Northland who understood what he’d been through in the past. But even Mat didn’t know quite how much courage it took for him to leave the house most days.
Just thinking about his home overlooking the small coastal town of Opua relaxed him. Huge windows filled the whole front of the house which gave the impression of being out in the open air, ensuring that most of the time he didn’t suffer the claustrophobia that often claimed him in normal houses, as if the walls were closing in on him.
He wouldn’t think about that now though, or he’d have to leave the bar, and he was rather enjoying this rare social moment.
“Do you still think about it?” Mat seemed to read his mind. “About Afghanistan, I mean.”
“It’s never far from the surface.”
“You should see someone, you know. To talk about what happened.”
“I am talking,” Garth said, amused. “To you.”
“You know what I mean. A shrink. Someone with experience in this sort of thing. Hell, Rick, you’ve gone through more in the past three years than most people go through in a lifetime. It would have killed lesser men.”
“Good thing I’m greater than most men, then.” Garth knew his jest wouldn’t fool Mat. He looked at his glass. “Don’t call me Rick. I’m not that man anymore.”
“Sorry, I forget sometimes. But you are still the same man, and you won’t be able to move forward until you accept that.”
Garth moved his gaze back to the horizon, reluctant to talk about it. He didn’t need to see a shrink and go over and over the details of his imprisonment. That happened most nights anyway, where he’d imagine the tight blindfold across his eyes, the cut of the restraints into his wrists, and the stench of the cell in his nostrils, even though it had been a year since he’d escaped. He didn’t want to keep reliving it. He wanted to move on.
An image of Chloe Jackson popped into his head, with her eyes that captured the brilliant blue of the sky and hair the color of the midday sun. He’d tried to forget her. Why dwell on what could never be? Hadn’t he learned that lesson enough over the past few years? But he couldn’t help it. She haunted him, and in the end he’d stopped trying to put her out of his mind. Whenever he thought of her, it reminded him of that moment he’d kissed her in the doorway of the plane, his stomach lurching the way it did whenever he jumped. She was like freedom in a bottle.
A very soft, curvy, chocolate-smelling bottle.
Garth blinked. Chloe had just walked into the bar. Had he conjured her up out of his dreams? She hadn’t seen him, and she paused to look out at the view of the bay. The setting sun lit up her profile, highlighting her hair with a red-gold glow. She wore dark jeans that flared out at the ankle and a pretty fuchsia-pink vest made of some sheer material that draped attractively over her breasts. She’d pinned her long blonde hair up in a neat chignon.
Desire surged through him, and he caught his breath. It was all he could do not to let his tongue trail on the ground like a lovesick cartoon character.
She also looked sad, chewing on her bottom lip in that sexy way she had. He noted that Stella accompanied her, not a guy.
Mat stared at him and obviously caught something interesting in the look on Garth’s face, because he turned to follow his gaze. “Oh…” Shooting Garth a quick grin, he pushed himself to his feet and waved. “Hey, ladies, want to join us?”
Chloe turned, saw Mat, and gave a genuine smile of pleasure. Then her gaze fell on Garth. Her eyes widened and she inhaled.
Warmth flooded through him, and he stood and smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” Chloe blushed. Mat glanced at Garth, eyebrows raised. Stella nudged Chloe with her elbow.
Garth just smiled. “Can I get you ladies a drink?”
Chloe shook her head, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes. “No, that’s okay, I’ll get them. Chardonnay, Stel?”
“Please.”
She walked to the bar and ordered a couple glasses of wine. Retrieving her purse from her bag, she fumbled it and dropped coins across the counter.
Stella whispered to Garth, “Wow, that’s some effect you have on her.”
He couldn’t quite believe that seeing him had made her drop her purse, but he liked the thought. “Hello Stella.” He kissed her on the cheek.
“She told me she’d met you.” Stella sat next to them.
“Did she?” That pleased him. If she hadn’t cared for him at all, she wouldn’t have given him another thought.
“Yeah. She likes you—a lot. But she’s been hurt pretty bad in the past, and she’s just seen the prick who did it, so don’t be surprised if she’s defensive.”
Garth nodded. Presumably the “prick” was also the “bastard” that Chloe had mentioned on the plane. The two names didn’t bode well for the guy. He opened his mouth to ask Stella for more details, but at that moment Chloe came up with their drinks, so he kept the question to himself.
She sat between him and Stella and passed her friend the glass. Sipping her wine, she glanced at Garth. Her cheeks reddened at his steady gaze.
“You okay?” Mat asked. “Stella said you ran into Ethan.”
She sighed heavily. “Yeah. Bit of a shock.”
Garth decided to ask her outright. “Is he the ‘bastard’ you referred to on the plane?”
“Yeah. He works in Kaikohe. I wouldn’t have expected to see him here normally.”
“I hope you kneed him in the nuts,” Mat said.
Chloe laughed. “Not quite, although that would have been more satisfying.” She waved her hand in the air. “I don’t want to waste another second thinking about him. Change the subject, please.”
“Okay,” Mat said. “Abby told me you were going for an interview, but it fell through?”
“Yeah. Shame, but these things happen.” She smiled brightly—too brightly. Obviously she didn’t want to talk about that either. She changed the subject again, confirming Garth’s thoughts. “How’s the jumping-out-of-planes business? Parachutes still opening?”
“Clearly,” he said. “Otherwise you’d have a pair of pancake-shaped instructors sitting here right now.”
She laughed and smiled gratefully. Her eyes sparkled.
If the other two hadn’t been there, he’d have pulled her to him and kissed her senseless. The flush in her cheeks deepened as if she’d read his thoughts, so he winked at her. Yep, definite reddening. Perhaps she had dropped the purse because of him. What a nice thought.
Mat gestured at Stella. “Have you convinced Chloe to come to the party tomorrow?”
Stella sighed. “No. For some reason she’d much rather watch all three ‘The Mummy’ movies while eating vast quantities of chocolate.”
“It’s called research,” Chloe said. “The chocolate, not the Mummy thing.”
“It’s called being anti-social. Sweetie, I know you don’t like crowds, but you really should get out more.”
“Thank you,” Mat said. “At last, someone else with their head screwed on right.”
“Jeez, it’s like listening to a broken record.” Garth pointed his glass at Chloe. “I completely understand where you’re coming from. I’d much rather watch movies than go to a party
.”
Mat sighed. “Dude, you’re only twenty-eight. Do you know how old you sound?”
“I really don’t care. I’m happy.”
“You’re not happy. You’re safe, is what you mean.”
Garth shot him a warning glare. He didn’t want Mat to raise the topic of his incarceration, not until he got to know Chloe better. Mat raised his eyebrows as if to challenge him, but didn’t say anything else.
“Come on,” Chloe said, “it takes all sorts. Not everyone loves partying. Some of us are more comfortable with our own company, that’s all. It doesn’t mean we’re wrong and you’re right.”
“True,” Stella said. “I do understand. And I’m not exactly a raver, Chloe, let’s face it. But the thing is, it’s not like the place will be full of eighteen-year-old lunatics bent on getting shit-faced and having orgies. Most of the people there will be over twenty-five with full-time jobs, and some have mortgages and even kids. It’s just a chance to get together with friends.”
Chloe looked out at the sea, and Garth shifted in his seat. Stella made them both sound unreasonable for not wanting to go to the party. Perhaps she was right—he had been thinking about it like some kind of rave rather than a chance to socialize with his peers and actually get out there and meet people. But the very thought made him recoil. He wasn’t ready to meet people.
Maybe one day he’d be back to his old self and not hide away all the time, but he hadn’t reached that point yet. Socializing, partying, bedding women—that was Rick Taylor’s lifestyle, not Garth Rowland’s. Mat had got it wrong—he wasn’t the same man he used to be. His experience in Afghanistan had changed him on a molecular level. He didn’t think or feel the same as the man he’d been.
He hadn’t even considered dating again, although that was mainly because of Jess. His conflicting emotions about his late wife were woven inextricably into his rage and hatred for Nick Stewart. But that would all be resolved in the very near future. Once he sorted Stewart out, maybe then he could grieve properly for Jess and put the whole convoluted mess of the past few years behind him.
Summer Fling Page 4