Quinn’s gaze burned right through her. And then he echoed her. “‘I...’? One little word. That’s it? That’s all you got?”
It wasn’t all. Not by a long shot. There was so much. Starting with I love you. She desperately needed to tell him that. But she just didn’t feel she had the right yet. She wanted to be good for him, someone who made his life better, not someone who dragged him down. “There’s so much going on.”
His full mouth became a hard line. He wasn’t falling for her excuses. “Lame, Chloe. You’re better than this.”
“But that’s just the thing...”
“What’s the thing?”
What if I’m not better? What if I’m not all you think I am, Quinn?
What if she never really got beyond the stupid choices she’d made in the past? What if he married her and ended up wishing he hadn’t?
She had all these horrible doubts about herself. But he didn’t doubt her. He believed in her, so completely. In a way that no one else ever had.
Somehow she needed to prove herself, needed to be certain that she wouldn’t end up letting him down. But how to do that? She didn’t have a clue.
“Nothin’, huh?” His voice betrayed his disappointment, but his expression had softened. “Go ahead. Turn off the light.” He said the words so gently, giving in for now, letting her off the hook once again.
She knew she should do better, say something meaningful and true. But what? He was right. Right now she had nothing more to offer him on this subject, and they both knew it.
So she switched off the lamp—and then didn’t have the nerve to cuddle back against him. Instead, she rolled onto her side, facing away from him. Wrapping the covers close again, she clung miserably to her edge of the bed.
His wonderful voice came out of the dark, all rough and low and grumbly. “Come here.” He reached out and hauled her back against him.
Shamelessly, she snuggled in tight. She felt his warm breath stir her hair. Safe in his strong arms, she closed her eyes.
* * *
When she woke in the morning, Quinn had already left. She turned off her alarm before it could start chiming and lay back on her pillow and pictured him across the street, sharing breakfast with Annabelle and Manny. She wished she were there with them.
And she could be there, living in his house with him, never again having to wake up and slide her hand across the sheet to the cool, empty space on his side of the bed. Even if she wasn’t ready to say “I do” yet, he would agree to her moving in if she asked him.
But somehow that didn’t feel right, either. When she moved in, it really should be forever, for everyone’s sake. And she wasn’t ready for forever.
Chloe showered and dressed for work. Before she ate breakfast, she called her mother. No way could she eat anything with that call ahead of her.
Her mother answered on the second ring. “Chloe? This is a surprise.” Linda’s tone was etched in acid.
Chloe ignored the sudden knot in her stomach and got right to the point. “Will you come here, to my house, tomorrow night at seven? I have a few things I’d like to clear up with you.”
“What things?”
“We’ll talk about them when you get here.”
“I don’t like your tone, Chloe. I don’t like any of this. I don’t understand what’s happened to you. Your father told me that you’re engaged to Quinn Bravo—not that he had to tell me. Everyone in town knows. Everyone is talking.” She started firing off angry questions, not even bothering to pause for Chloe to answer. “Have you lost your mind? What’s the matter with you? This insanity is not like you. Are you going through some kind of life crisis?” She stopped for a breath at last.
And Chloe spoke up before she could get rolling again. “Seven tomorrow night. Yes or no?”
A long, nerve-racking silence and then, more softly, almost hopefully: “Yes. All right. I’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.” Chloe hung up.
She had two cups of coffee and some toast and then went to work. Tai came in at ten that day. It was her first day as a full-time Your Way employee. She’d decided to go to a few online classes for at least a semester and then reevaluate whether to return to CU or not. It was a stretch budgetwise for Chloe, but Tai was willing to take minimum wage for a while, and her presence would free Chloe up to spend more time designing and working with clients. As soon as Tai arrived, Chloe let her handle the showroom and went to the small office room in back to call Bloom.
“Chloe!” Jody Bravo seemed happy to hear from her. “Hey. What can I do for you?”
“I...” Great. She was at it again. Doling out one-word sentences consisting of I.
“Chloe? You there? Everything all right?”
She started to lie, to chirp out a cheerful Oh, yes. Everything’s fine.
But then she thought of all the years she’d told people things were fine when they were anything but. She thought of Quinn last night, telling her she needed to be “in the light.”
“Chloe...?”
“Oh, Jody. I’m sorry. This is difficult for me.”
“It’s okay.” Jody really seemed to mean it. “Honestly. Whatever it is, whatever I can do, I’m happy to help.”
Chloe forged on. “A month ago you got an order for me. You sent me a beautiful arrangement. Orchids and roses in a gorgeous square vase?”
“Okay, yeah. I remember that. Do you recall the date?”
It was burned in Chloe’s brain. She repeated it. Jody said, “Let me look... Got it. Came through FloraDora dot net. From a Ted Davies in San Diego.”
“That’s it.” The truth was right there caught in her throat, pushing to get out. So she let it. “Ted Davies is my ex-husband and I don’t want any more flowers from him.”
“Whoa. I hear you.” Computer keys clicked on the other end of the line. “Okay. That’s handled. If I get another order from him, I’ll refuse it.”
“Thanks. Thanks so much. And one more thing...”
“Just ask.”
“Do you have a copy of that order and maybe the text of the card that came with it?”
“I do.”
“Could you email that to me?”
“The text of the card, absolutely. I can’t send the actual order form. But I can send you a confirmation that I received and filled the order. A confirmation would include the date of the transaction and that Ted Davies in San Diego had the flowers sent to you.”
“That would be perfect.” Chloe rattled off her personal email address.
Jody said, “Great.” More keys clacked. “I’ve sent what you asked for. And if he tries again, I’ll let you know.”
“That would really help.”
“And, Chloe, just so you know...”
“Please.”
“If he starts sending them anonymously from Tilly’s or elsewhere, you’ll probably get resistance from the florist when you ask for information about who sent them.” Jody lowered her voice. “The customer is king and all that...”
“I understand. And I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.”
“Anytime. And, Chloe...?”
“Um?”
“Maybe it’s none of my business, but...” Jody hesitated again.
Chloe felt a curl of dread that the conversation was about to veer way out of her comfort zone. But then again, Jody was Quinn’s sister. And Chloe had already all but said that her ex was a stalker. Comfort zone? Forget about it. Chloe reminded Jody, “We’re family, remember?” Or they would be, if Chloe ever agreed to choose a date. “Ask me anything.”
“Does Quinn know about this?”
“Yes.” It did feel good to be able to reassure his sister that she hadn’t kept him in the dark. “Quinn’s the one who suggested that I ca
ll you.”
“Perfect.” Jody’s relief was clear in her voice. “Exactly what I wanted to hear. You need anything else—anything—you just let me know.”
Chloe thanked her again and they said goodbye. She disconnected the call—and the phone rang in her hand.
It was Quinn. “Thought I’d check and see how you’re doing.”
Just the sound of his voice made her feel better about everything. She reported on her call to her mother and told him that everything was handled with Jody.
“Look at you,” he said in that low rumble that turned her insides to mush. “Right on the case.”
She chuckled. Okay, it was a slightly manic sound, but a laugh was better than a cry of misery and frustration anytime. “I’m in the light, big guy. Stalker Ted doesn’t stand a chance against me.”
“Get ’em, killer.”
“You’d better be smiling when you call me that.”
They talked for a little about mundane things.
She had her self-defense class that night and she was looking forward to more tips on eluding an attacker. Also, for the second half of that evening’s class, the guys would finally get into their padded suits. She would have a chance to put some of what she’d learned into practice.
Quinn said that he and Annabelle would miss her at dinner. “Manny’s making lasagna,” he muttered bleakly.
She teased, “I’m so sorry about that.”
Tai appeared in the open doorway to the showroom. A customer wanted an estimate for both a bath and a kitchen remodeling.
Quinn said, “I heard that. See you tonight. I’ll be over as soon as I finish with monster removal.”
* * *
Chloe left her self-defense class that night feeling exhilarated. At first, it was scary, shouting at her “attacker,” kicking and flailing, punching and pushing to get out of his clutches, trying to remember the few fighting tricks she’d been taught in earlier classes, like how to behave counter to your natural reaction to jerk away when an attacker grabbed you. Instead, you leaned in, catching him off balance, and then, using that split second when the bad guy wasn’t braced, you jerked back and started kicking and screaming for all you were worth.
Bottom line: it didn’t pay to be a lady when some scuzzball grabbed you. Once things moved past avoidance and any chance to defuse the situation, a woman needed to be willing to make plenty of noise and fight tooth and nail for all she was worth. She had to accept that she would probably be injured. The battle by then was to survive.
When she got home, she took a long shower and put on cropped jeans and a silk tank top and fixed a light dinner. By then, it was nine and Quinn would be over sometime in the next hour. She went downstairs and checked email, her pulse ratcheting up a notch at the thought that Ted might have tried to contact her again.
But there was nothing from him. Jody had sent her a copy of the note that had come with the flowers, along with the confirmation she’d promised. Chloe copied all that to her TD file. Then she dealt with the few new emails and messages the website and the Facebook page had received.
Finally, she brought up the message Ted had sent her two weeks ago. She and Quinn had agreed that she would answer with a demand that Ted leave her alone and then block the address. She went ahead and composed her reply. It was only two sentences: Never contact me again. I am blocking this address. She zipped it right off, blacklisted [email protected] and updated the information in her TD file.
Not two seconds later, she heard the door open upstairs.
“Angel?” Quinn called.
“Coming!” She ran up to meet him.
“So, how was the lasagna?” she asked when they met in the middle of the stairs.
He had his tablet in one hand. With the other, he reached out, slid his warm fingers around the back of her neck and pulled her up close. “About as expected.”
“That’s too bad.”
“Yeah.” He leaned in even closer, rubbed his rough cheek to her soft one. “You shoulda been there to suffer with us.”
“So sorry to miss it.”
“I’ll just bet you are.”
She rubbed her nose against his and then kissed him. When he lifted his head, she stared up at him, feeling distinctly starry-eyed. “How ’bout a beer?” she suggested. “We can sit out on the deck and I’ll tell you all about how spectacular the master bath tile work at your house is going to be and what I learned in self-defense class this evening.”
He held up his tablet. “First, you’re writing me an email to Ted, remember?”
She hadn’t forgotten. Far from it. “Actually, I’ve been rethinking that.”
He guided a hank of her hair behind her ear and chided, “We got this all worked out. It’s only going to take a few minutes.”
Dear Lord, he was a wonderful man. “I’ve done everything you suggested last night. I’m even going to deal with my mother tomorrow. And I want you to be here when she arrives. But this...” She gestured weakly at the tablet.
“What about it?” He didn’t sound happy.
Well, neither was she. “I don’t like it, Quinn.”
“We’ve been all through this last night and you agreed—”
She cut him off—but gently. “Yes, I did. And since then, I’ve had time to think it over a little more and I just...”
“You just what?”
“I just don’t want you contacting him. You are not getting directly involved in this—not with Ted. Uh-uh. That is not going to happen.”
His eyes had darkened and now his jaw was solid as rock. “You better tell me right now. You think you need to protect that guy from me?”
She gaped in hurt surprise. “No. No, of course I don’t. This is about you, not him. This is about—”
“So you’re protecting me? You think I need protecting from a slimeball like that?”
How had this gotten so out of hand so fast? She drew in a slow breath and told her racing heart to settle the heck down. “Please. Can we dial this back? Can we not have this argument right here in the middle of the stairs?”
He answered much too quietly, “Sure, Chloe. Where, then?”
“How about if we just don’t have this argument at all?”
He was not about to let it go. “Where, Chloe?”
Fair enough. She gestured toward the top of the stairs. “The great room, then.”
He turned around and marched back up. Reluctantly, she followed.
In the sitting area, he took an easy chair and she took the sofa. They faced off across the coffee table.
He asked, oh so reasonably, “Did you write that sucker an email and tell him to leave you alone?”
“Yes, I did. And then I blocked the address he used.”
“Good.” He dropped his tablet on the coffee table and leaned toward her, powerful forearms braced on his spread knees. “So, what’s the sudden issue with letting him know that you’re with me now and I know what he’s up to?”
“It’s an overreaction.”
“The hell it is.”
“Flowers, Quinn. He sent flowers once, a month ago. And he emailed me two weeks ago. That’s all he’s done.”
He made a low, angry sound deep in his throat. “All he’s done? He hit you, more than once. He cheated on you. And then when you divorced him, he wouldn’t leave you alone. It got so bad you moved back home. And now he’s started in again.”
“I’m talking about recently.”
“You’re lying to yourself.”
“Two times,” she repeated. “Two times he’s contacted me in more than a year. Flowers and one email. And now I’m keeping a record of every move he makes on me. I’ve blocked his email address and he won’t be sending me flowers from Bloom again. I’ve told him, in no uncertain terms, to get
lost. That’s enough for now. That’s...appropriate to the situation.”
“Appropriate.” He said it as if it tasted really bad in his mouth. “Tell you what. Forget it. Let’s drop this right now. Have it your way. Let it go.”
“Great. All I need is your word that you won’t be looking him up online or calling some private investigator to find him. Promise me you won’t go off on your own and contact him.”
“I’m not agreeing to that.”
“Then we’re not done here. I mean it, Quinn. You have to stay out of this. Ted is not your problem.”
“You keep saying that.” He sat back, then forward again. She saw the born fighter in him so clearly right then. Testosterone seemed to come off him in waves. “Ted is my problem.” He growled the words. “Anything that ties you in knots and keeps you awake nights and drives a wedge between us...” He jerked his thumb toward his broad chest. “My problem.”
She folded her arms protectively across her middle, realized she was doing it, and unfolded them again. “Ted is... He can be a real snake, Quinn.” Across the low table from her, he shifted again, furious, coiled, ready for action. She went on before he could interrupt. “He’s a really good lawyer. Clever. Ruthless. You get in touch with him, you could end up slapped with a restraining order, or even a lawsuit.”
Quinn shot to his feet, the move lightning-fast. He was sitting across from her—and all at once, he was looming above her. But when he spoke his voice was careful and even. “You think I give a good damn about his dirty tricks?”
She answered truthfully, “No, I don’t. But I do. I care if he makes trouble for you. I will not be the cause of that. I just won’t.”
“You won’t be the cause of anything. Your ex, he’s the cause. And I’m responsible for my own actions. It’s not on you if I communicate with Ted. So whatever he tries on me, fine. He can bring it.”
Where to even start? “Will you please just...sit down?”
He surprised her by doing what she asked, dropping back into the chair and leaning forward on his spread knees again. “I told you last night that I’m not going to be anything but polite and respectful to that piece of crap.”
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