“Between ‘may’ or ‘may not’ have, my money’s on ‘may.’”
She barked out a laugh. “Good bet.”
They walked in silence for a moment before he said. “And…?”
“And what?”
“And...you don’t think that you can just drop that bomb and stop talking before telling me what personas you invented for me, do you?”
“Think might be strong. Hope is more like it.”
“Consider your hopes dashed.”
“Oh, God. Okay. Let’s see. One of them was Jeremy, the lead singer of a Van Morrison cover band.”
“Psshhh. That’s completely unrealistic. I’d never front a cover band where I’d be singing ‘Brown-Eyed Girl’ every show. I’ve always been partial to blue eyes, myself.”
She looked up at him, clearly pleased. “So, Elton John cover band, then?”
“Abso-freaking-lutely. So, what other personas did you invent for me?”
She took a deep breath. “Well, there was Johnny, the owner of a pizza place. It was regionally renown for your family’s special sauce recipe that had been passed down from your great-grandmother, which you kept under lock and key.”
He feigned a wounded expression. “Only regionally? God, Chloe. You really know how to fake-wound a guy.”
She laughed. “In that scenario, I’m sure you were this close to fielding franchise opportunities.”
“Just call me Papa Johnny."
Their conversation continued effortlessly—in fact, he couldn’t believe how little effort he had to put in. He wasn’t trying to be entertaining with Chloe. He was just existing with her. Connecting. It was a new feeling, in that he had never experienced it before. But at the same time, it felt so comfortable that he couldn’t quite believe that they weren’t the closest of old friends, that she hadn’t always been in his life. It already felt strange to try to remember the time before he knew who she was.
Finally, Chloe glanced up at the bar as they passed it on a trip around the block. Her voice was shocked as she said, “Oh, God, Chris—it’s completely dark and closed up. What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch and his eyes widened. Was it possible? “Whoa! Chloe, we’ve been walking around and around the block for two hours. I don’t think either of us is going to have to do our cardio tomorrow.”
“God. I feel...I mean, was it just me? I kind of feel like I’m coming out of a sort-of trance.”
“Let’s not come out of it, then. Let me take you to dinner tomorrow.”
She smiled sweetly. “I’d like that.”
He leaned down and kissed her, then, softly. Sweetly. As their lips moved against each other and he pulled her warm body close to his, he prayed that, if what they were in was a trance, they wouldn’t wake up for a long time.
Chapter 7
Chloe sat at her dining room table and swiped at her iPad, reviewing page after page of legal documents. As she raised her hand to drag her finger along the screen for the who-knows-how-many-th time, she realized that she couldn’t remember anything she’d read in the last ten pages or so.
She cast her mind backward, mentally scanning over the documents that she’d taken in. Shit! Apparently, although her eyes had read the words just fine, her mind had failed to absorb them.
Any of them.
Dammit!
She knew exactly why this was happening. It wasn’t a hard equation to solve. It was Chris! Imagining who he was and what he might be like had completely consumed her brain before she’d really known him, and now that she had real details and didn't need to conjure them up anymore, was still completely taken up by him, only now she was simply thinking about him, rather than dreaming.
She closed her iPad case and admitted defeat.
Hell, if all I’m gonna do is think about him anyway, I may as well spend my time getting ready for the date rather than doing useless reading that I’m gonna have to redo later, anyway.
She walked into her bedroom and looked at the barely-controlled chaos there, with all her belongings either laying across chairs or still packed away in boxes. It wasn’t going to be easy to pick out the perfect outfit when her clothes were not exactly in pristine organizational order, so it was probably just as well that she had decided to come in early and start prepping for the big date tonight.
She shook her head to correct her thought process. Stop! Why are you even thinking of it as “the big date?” It’s a date. Period. Full stop. Nothing more, nothing less.
She took a hard look at herself in the mirror. That was bullshit, and she knew it.
The thing that really scared her about her feelings when it came to Chris was that her body was telling her something that her mind simply could not accept was true — that this was a lot more significant than she was letting herself believe.
There was a thing that happened to her at different points in her life. A feeling that would come over her. Something that was difficult to describe in specific terms. She had always just referred to it in her own mind as “a deep knowing.” It was like a sixth sense that told her when something really big and life-changing was about to happen.
She had gotten the feeling the morning before she had been announced as her high school’s valedictorian. It had come back right before the date where she lost her virginity in college. She had felt it all over as she walked into the interview with Caitlyn. But — come to think of it, that had also been the afternoon that she met Chris. So maybe that particular “deep knowing” was a two-for-one deal.
And now, she was consumed with that feeling again. The familiar certainty sat low in her gut and she couldn’t dislodge it by using simple logic or trying to talk herself out of it. No amount of merely looking at herself in the mirror and telling herself not to “make too big a deal of” the date with Chris tonight was going to force her brain, or her instinct, to believe it.
The other thing that freaked her out about having that sixth sense about the date tonight was that all of those other situations, to one extent or another, had been somewhat under her control. With being voted valedictorian, she was merely reaping the rewards for the years of hard work that had preceded that accolade. With losing her virginity — well, she reflected with a smirk, that had definitely been more her decision then the guy’s.
And with the interview at Caitlyn's firm, she had done her research and performed well. She had been lucky to get her dream job, of course, but she defined luck by that old paradigm of it being the place where opportunity and preparedness meet.
When it came to the date tonight, and any relationship that she and Chris might have afterword, she had very little (if any!) control. That was, especially for a high-achieving control freak like her, just about the most terrifying feeling that she could imagine.
And to add to that fright, as if it needed to be built up anymore, was the fact that this sixth sense was more powerful than any of the others she could remember. On a scale of 1 to 10, if those had landed at around the 6 level, this one was — to steal a line from This Is Spinal Tap — turned all the way up to 11.
“AAAHHH!!!!” she growled in disgust with herself as she spun away from the mirror and marched into the bathroom. She tore off her clothes and dumped them into the hamper, then turned on the water as hot as she could stand it. She was going to wash away these thoughts and feelings before she saw Chris tonight if there was anything at all she could do about it.
As she felt the powerful, hot spray digging into her tense shoulder muscles, she did start to relax. And as the relative calm swept over her, she had a revelation.
I probably would’ve thought of this earlier if I hadn’t been so tied up in knots, she thought, but at least I thought of it now. The only reason why Chris is taking up so much mental real estate is because I have been building him up as this mega sex god. Because of the way he rescued me when we met, I’ve been thinking of him as some kind of superhero, and that includes in the bedroom. So the only way to de-superhero him in my brain is to ge
t some real life experience.
I’ll sleep with him tonight, and then once I find out that he’s pleasant in bed but certainly no Super Sex God, then I can finally get back to my regular life and stop obsessing about him.
Satisfied with her plan, she squeezed a dollop of shampoo into her palm and massaged it into her hair. She felt in control again, powerful.
Only the tiniest little part of her brain, at the very back, one that she could easily ignore, whispered to her that there was a very good chance that her brilliant plan might backfire.
Chapter 8
Chris listened to his feet pound the pavement, the rhythm comforting, and perfectly in time with his heartbeat.
Any time he felt stressed, or nervous, or just needed to wrap his head around a problem, he had always found that exercise was his best friend. Just sweat it out. It had never failed him yet.
And even now, as he tried to run off a little bit of his pre-date jitters by going for a jog, it was still serving him well...if not as well as usual. Generally, he could lose himself in a good run, to the point that he wasn’t even aware of the world around him as he flexed and contracted his muscles, and was completely oblivious to whatever drama might be going on inside his head. That wasn't the case this afternoon, but he did feel better than he had when he left.
Shit, it certainly beat doing nothing but sitting around the hotel room and just waiting, staring at the clock and counting the minutes until he would see her. That would've sucked.
Without warning, he felt something solid bump into him from behind, knocking roughly into his hip and sending him stumbling a few steps to the side. He whirled around to see what had interfered with him, every nerve on guard. His senses were particularly heightened ever since the incident where he had met Chloe. This was not the small little mountain town where he lived. That was the big city, and he needed to be constantly aware of that fact.
Apparently he had let his guard down enough to let someone get close, and he needed to see exactly what kind of trouble he had let himself in for.
When he laid eyes on the source of the collision, a broad smile spread across his face. It wasn’t so much someone he’d let get close to him. It was something. A dog, as a matter of fact. A golden retriever, to be specific. It sat on the pavement as he turned, looking up at him with wide chocolate brown eyes and sweeping the sidewalk back and forth with its wagging tail.
Chris knelt down and patted the happy dog on the head. “Hey there, good baby. Where’s your owner? And what’s your name?”
He found the answer to the second question by lifting the large, rectangular silver tag attached to the dog’s collar and reading the words written there. In large script, he saw the name, “Sassy.” Then, in smaller type underneath the dog’s name were the words, “Please call my mommy. She’s definitely freaking out right now!” And, lastly, there was a phone number.
Chuckling at the witty dog tag, Chris pulled his cell phone from the pocket of his gym shorts and grasped the dog's leash where it was trailing behind her on the ground so that she wouldn’t run away. “Okay, Sassy girl. Let’s call your mommy. We definitely don’t want her to have to freak out any more than she already is.”
Perhaps recognizing the word “mommy,” Sassy wagged her tail even more furiously than before.
Before Chris could even put in the passcode to bring his phone’s home screen up, though, a frantic woman came running around the corner yelling, “Sassy! Sassy, where are you?!”
Chris put a hand in the air and yelled, “Over here! I've got her.”
The women’s eyes found his hand over the crowd that separated them, then dropped to his face and quickly down to dog-height level. Relief visibly spread over her and she ran over to them.
“Oh, thank God. Thank God. Sassy! You can’t do that! You can't just go running off like that. You scared mommy half to death.”
As the woman hugged and petted her dog, Chris had a moment to take in the details of her appearance. She was stunning, there was no denying it. Tall, model-thin, with glossy blonde hair down to her waist. She was wearing skintight jeans and a halter top that showed off an inch of flat belly between them.
She was, in fact, exactly the kind of girl that he would usually go for. Just his type. And, he knew from experience that, between having just found her dog and the fireman thing, he could have her in bed this afternoon if he wanted to. He wasn’t even being cocky. That was simply a certainty based on his track record.
To his surprise, though, he found that he had zero interest. His dick was completely still in his running shorts. Not one twitch at the idea of getting this beauty between the sheets.
In fact, he had just one thought running through his brain when he looked at her—she’s nothing compared to Chloe.
Wow. That was a new one for Chris Martell: Super Player, as Jake had dubbed him after the first time they’d gone drinking together .
The woman stood up. She cocked her hips as she faced him, and subtly puffed out her chest. When she looked at him, it was through hooded eyes. He recognized the signs. Yeah, damn. I wouldn’t even have to play the fireman card. She’d be mine for the taking right now if I wanted her.
Still, not even one tiny flash of interest in either his brain or his cock. This woman simply held no appeal for him. Not now. Not after he knew that there was a Chloe in the world, and that her spectacular-ness put all of his former good time girls to shame. That it showed their appeal for the shallow and plastic thing that it was.
The blonde woman reached out and laid her hand on his arm. In a well-practiced move, she left it there for the perfect amount of time before trailing her fingertips lightly down his forearm. “I can’t thank you enough. She just ran off out of nowhere. You saved me. You’re my hero.”
Chris smiled, but it was perfunctory. “No worries. Have a nice afternoon.”
He turned to run off, but she grabbed a small handful of this shirt. “Wait,” she giggled, as if the exchange were the somehow cute and funny, “I don’t even know your name. You have to let me take you out for coffee. It’s the least I can do.”
He tugged on his shirt just hard enough to free it and then loped away, calling back over his shoulder, “Not necessary!” as he jogged toward his hotel.
Shit. Apparently his player ways really were a thing of the past. The only thing on his mind right now was seeing Chloe, taking her to a nice dinner, and spending time with her. That was certainly a change. It was one he liked.
Chapter 9
As Chris walked Chloe back to her car after they had closed down the restaurant talking and laughing, he knew one thing for sure—he wasn’t ready for this date to be over. After putting on his never-fail smile, he smoothly ducked in front of her to lean against her car door, blocking her from grabbing the handle.
She laughed. “Is this another game?”
He widened the grin. “Depends. Do you want to play?”
She tilted her head, considering, a small smile touching her lips at the replay of their prior conversation. “What are the rules?”
Chris dropped all pretense of banter. “Whatever you want them to be. As long as we keep this night going. I’m not ready to say goodbye to you yet.”
He knew he’d hit pay dirt the moment the words hit her ears. Her eyes softened, and her lips turned up. “Come on, get in. We can go watch the moonlight on the water. It’s really beautiful.” She looked down at her feet and fidgeted. “I’m not ready to say goodnight, either.”
During the entire ride to the waterfront, Chris couldn’t take his eyes from her face. He was mesmerized. He felt like a teenager again, in a car with a beautiful woman as her ocean-blue eyes sparkled in the moonlight, filled with the sensation that his whole life was spread out in front of him, and he was the king of the world.
"I'm gonna kiss you now," he said gruffly.
Her eyes flared, and her lips turned up at the corners. The subtle gestures were all the sexier for the fact that they were involuntary. "Okay,"
she breathed, and even though her voice was barely above a whisper, there was no mistaking the lust and desperation in it.
He pressed his lips to hers, gently, at first. God, it was an effort to hold back, but he felt like the effort was worth it. This wasn’t just about coming together physically. This was about showing her what she meant to him, even after only this short period of time. This was about showing her she was different. And being way too eager to get laid, in a car, on their first real date? Well, that wasn't exactly the classic way to show a girl how "different” he thought she was.
He tangled his fingers in her soft, red curls, pushing her mouth harder against his, and her body melted against him. His desperation grew with every twitch of her muscles, every caress of her lips against his.
When he could hold back no longer, he tore his lips from hers and started kissing his way down her neck. Her skin was even sweeter and softer there than her lips. He wouldn’t have thought it possible.
Her hands were on the back of his head, pushing him farther along, urging him silently to kiss her harder… and lower.
When he trailed kisses all the way down her neck, peppering her chest with them as well, his hands moved up from where they had been resting at her waist. He slipped them under the hem of her blouse, trailing circles on the smooth skin of her belly.
She moaned and snatched her hands from the back of his head. She began to unbutton the top of her blouse, but her fingers were trembling so badly she couldn’t manage it. After watching a couple of adorable fumbles, he placed his hands over hers, stilling them.
“Are you sure?” he asked. The question was delivered in a gentle tone, but also one that left no room for ambiguity. He was asking for the go ahead to undress her and not just by a few buttons. That was clear.
“Oh, yeah. Definitely.”
“Then just relax and let me do the work, baby.”
He reached over her and pulled the handle that caused the front seat to recline, then nudged her until she was almost flat on her back.
Wild Irish: Falling for Wild (Kindle Worlds Novella) Page 3