Irresistibly Mine

by Stephanie Rowe

  Chloe looked around at all the women who had already gone back to work unpacking the boxes of yarn. They all looked so happy, so content. They were chattering happily with each other, reminiscing about other times they'd been in that very store, having conversations that made them happy to recall. Guilt turned over in her gut, but she raised her chin. "This is really lovely what you're doing to help me out, but I don't live here. I'm just staying here rent free for a few days until I find a new job and figure out where I need to live."

  Eppie smiled and patted her shoulder. "I saw your face when you walked in," she said gently. "This is where you're supposed to be. We both know it."

  Chloe sighed. "Eppie, I'm a social worker. I work with foster kids. It's not my calling to run a knitting store in Birch Crossing. It just isn't."

  Eppie turned to face her and folded her arms over her chest, giving Chloe a hard look. "You do realize you will never find happiness as long as you deny what's in your heart, right?"

  "It's not about happiness. It's about doing what you're meant to do. They aren't the same thing."

  "Of course it is. If you're doing what you're meant to do, then it creates a sense of immense satisfaction and completeness in you when you do it. If your life eats away your heart and leaves you with an empty, aching void that seems to overwhelm you every time you lie down and turn out the light, I have news for you, sweetness. It ain't your calling."

  Chloe stiffened, startled by Eppie's all too accurate description of how she lived most of the time, in fact, how she lived all the time, except for last night when she fell asleep in Blue's arms. "Someone has to help those kids."

  "Yes, but there are a lot of different ways to help them."

  "And running a knitting store is one of them? Because I don't see how that helps them find their families."

  Eppie tilted her head, studying her too attentively. Chloe suddenly realized that she had probably revealed too much, both with her words and with the intensity of her response. She shrugged her shoulders, and tried to appear more nonchalant. "It's just what I do. My job matters to me, which means there's no point in you guys opening the store here."

  "Tell you what," Eppie said, thoughtfully. "How about this? For as long as you're here, we can run the store. It's your store, because you're living here, but we'll help you run it. And then when you leave, if the new owners don't want to run it, we'll shut it down and take our stuff. Does that work?"

  Chloe hesitated. "I don't know —"

  Eppie tucked her hand in the crook of Chloe's elbow, and turned her to face the room. "Look at them," she said softly, her rusty, old voice low enough that only Chloe could hear it. "Opening the store is spreading joy. Look at their faces. You can see the happiness in their hearts and their eyes. If you can make a few old ladies happy at the same time as you're hunting down families for those foster kids, isn't that a good thing?"

  As Eppie spoke, Chloe looked, really looked, at the faces of the women who were creating a store out of dust and abandonment. There were wrinkles around their eyes and in the corners of their mouths. Some of them had gray hair, and the others had bright hair that declared the youth that was in their spirits, if not their bodies. But what really caught her attention, was the animation of their conversation, the brightness of the sparkle in their eyes, the rapid flutter of ideas back and forth as they discussed all the flaws with the previous setup.

  She sighed, and looked at Eppie. "You're evil, you know that, right?"

  Eppie grinned, a shit-eating grin that looked like it would be more appropriate on the devil caught with his hand in the cookie jar than on a little old lady. "Babycakes, your bleeding heart is just way too apparent. It's incredibly easy to manipulate you. Of course, you could never handle stealing joy from old ladies. I don't know why you even tried. Seriously, just enjoy the fact that you're lucky enough to have six of the sharpest minds in Birch Crossing at your beck and call."

  Chloe couldn't help but grin, and she held up her hands in capitulation. "Fine, but I don't want any hearts broken when I tell you I'm leaving and you have to shut it down again."

  Eppie beamed at her. "The potential for disappointment and setbacks are no reason not to forge ahead with hopeless optimism," she announced. "It's all good." She waved her hands at her crew, and announced, "It's a go, ladies! Let's do it!"

  Chloe set her hands on her hips as Eppie abandoned her, heading right toward the largest carton, which was sitting on the floor by the front window. She sighed as Eppie whipped out a pocket knife and sliced through the packing tape.

  For a long moment, she stood there watching them, stunned by the sheer energy of the women as they began to transform the abandoned space. She watched the way they smiled at each other and gave each other a hard time, cackling when they bested each other. At the same time, there was such a warmth and connection between them, she knew that these women had been friends for life.

  Yearning coursed through her, a deep, aching want that came from the depths of her gut. She wanted to belong the way they did. There was something so beautiful about it, making her realize Eppie was right. There was no way she would stand in the way of these women creating their knitting shop. How could she steal from them the one thing that she had spent her life chasing after, but never had? A place to belong. Not that they were a family of the kind she'd always yearned for, but there was that same sense of community and belonging, the kind who stood by each other no matter what life dealt.

  Eppie held up Chloe's computer. "Do you need this? I want to clean the display counter."

  Chloe's gaze landed on the laptop. In comparison to the brightly colored textiles decorating the room, the black plastic casing on the computer seemed so hard and cold, the exact opposite of what she tried so hard to fill her life with.

  Eppie waggled it at her. "Yes? No?"

  "Yes." She took the computer from Eppie, hugging it against her chest as she backed out of the room. For some reason, as she finally turned away and walked into the kitchen, she wanted to cry. Was Eppie right? Was she wrong about what she was meant to be doing? Was she wrong that her calling was to help the foster kids that were like her? But how could she abandon them? They had no one else. She had to do what she had to do. Just like Blue had to keep rescuing people, she had to keep doing what she could do to help those kids. It wasn't up to her to wake up every morning with a smile in her heart and a sense of belonging. It was up to her to try to help other people get to that place.

  But as she set her computer on the counter and looked around the charming New England kitchen, her gaze fell upon another painting by Louise. It was hanging above the kitchen table, a painting of a Christmas tree, and a family gathering around it, opening presents, sipping eggnog, and laughing.

  She closed her eyes, unable to fight off the longing that washed over her, gripping so tightly she suddenly felt like she could barely breathe. Dammit. She had worked her whole life to get over that debilitating longing for a Christmas morning like that, and now, because of Eppie and her friends invading her house, and because of Blue wrapping her up in his arms while she slept, it was suddenly impossible for her to shut down the longing coursing through her.

  She gripped the counter and bowed her head, her fingers digging into the old, wooden countertops. She took a deep breath, and then another, fighting back the memories and the wishes of the small girl she'd once been.

  She wasn't a kid now, full of dreams that would never come true, at the mercy of others who decided her fate. She was a grown woman, newly liberated from a relationship that had been sucking the life out of her. She was the one in control, of her emotions, and of her future. She knew what she had to do. She knew what she was meant to do.

  She took one more deep breath, then flipped open her computer. The blinking cursor stared at her for a long moment, until she double clicked and opened her résumé.

  Chapter 18

  Blue leaned against the railing on the stairs, watching Chloe as she opened her computer and starte
d working. He had listened to the entire conversation between her and Eppie. He'd heard the anguish in Chloe's voice. He'd seen the way she gripped the counter and bowed her head before opening her computer.

  He swore under his breath, running his hand through his hair, as he watched her type.

  All his amusement and good mood of the morning had vanished, replaced by a sense of helplessness and lack of control. He hated feeling helpless. It reminded him of that week when he was fourteen, unable to do anything to change the situation, except rely on others.

  He made it a point never to feel like that again, and he'd made good on his promise to himself.

  Until now. Until he saw the woman who made him laugh for the first time in a long time, bent over her computer, her shoulders hunched, her body language one of both defeat and determination.

  He'd spent his life searching for strangers who had been kidnapped. Everyone whose lives he touched were people that he would never see again, never hear from, and never think of again, except to add them to his list of successes or his list of failures. It was never personal. It was his job. But as he stood there on the worn carpet, his gaze shifting between Eppie and her crew, and Chloe, standing alone in the kitchen at the counter, he knew it had become personal.

  He cared. He cared what happened to her today. He cared what would happen to her tomorrow. He cared what would happen to her in a year.

  Shit. How had he let this get personal? Like Chloe, he had a job to do. He had people who counted on him. People who had no one else to turn to...but even as he thought that, he thought of Harlan's words, that Renée had a full staff now of talented, experienced retrieval experts. He wasn't needed there. He was replaceable.

  The thought hit him hard in the gut, so hard he suddenly couldn't breathe. Jesus. He worked his whole life for this and he was irrelevant? What the hell?

  Chloe looked up suddenly, and her dark brown gaze met his. There was so much loneliness and sadness in her eyes that his heart turned over. Swearing under his breath, he smiled at her.

  For a long moment, she just stared at him, then the corners of her mouth turned up and she smiled back, a smile that seemed to go straight into his gut. He made her smile. It was a legit smile. He knew her well enough to know that, and he was the one who'd coaxed it out of her. He'd helped her, only him.

  He grinned and strode across the hallway toward her, giving a nod to the roomful of women as they hooted at him as he passed by. He didn't slow down though, not until he reached Chloe. When he did, he hooked his fingers around her wrist and tugged her just a little bit too hard. She tumbled into him, and he locked his hands around her waist and pulled her against his chest, delivering a kiss designed to make them both internally combust.

  She sighed and melted into him, her hands going around his neck. The kiss was just getting hot, when he felt a tap on his shoulder. Unable to stop himself from grinning, he broke the kiss and looked over his shoulder, not surprised to see Eppie standing there. "Yes?"

  "Chloe is apparently going to be busy doing her résumé today," Eppie announced. "But we are in need of a few shelves. I talked to Jackson and he said he's willing to have you work over here today instead of the house next door. So when you're done sucking face with that lovely social worker, grab your tools out of your truck, and come help us. Jackson said if you need any wood you can borrow it from his stash, and he'll charge Harlan for it. Do you need breakfast, or are you ready to get started?"

  Blue stared at her. "You want me to build shelves in there today?" That idea actually appealed to him. It would keep him near Chloe, and with her in his arms, that seemed to be a damned good idea. He was just about to agree, when he felt the vibration of his phone in his back pocket.

  He pulled out his phone, and grimaced when he saw it was Renée calling again. Shit. He'd ignored her for too long. He felt good this morning. At peace. Solid. He knew he couldn't put off answering the phone anymore, and he couldn't justify shirking his duty any longer. Swearing, he clicked the send button, but didn't put the phone to his ear. "I need to take this." The words seemed to stick in his throat, especially when he saw Chloe's face fall as she released him and stepped back.

  "No problem," she said. "I was going to make some coffee. Do you want some?"

  "Yeah." He watched her as she walked across the kitchen and opened the cabinet, unable to make himself turn away.

  Eppie tapped his arm. "After you take the call, I want you back in here. We need you." Without waiting for an answer, she headed back into the room, announcing to her gang that he would be building for them today.

  Blue laughed under his breath, as he listened to Eppie tell everyone to make a list of what they wanted him to do. The woman was a dictator, and he appreciated that.

  Then Renée's voice echoed from his phone. "Blue? Are you there?"

  Gritting his teeth, Blue headed toward the back deck where he'd spent the evening sitting with Chloe. He stepped outside and put the phone to his ear. "This is Blue."

  * * *

  Blue leaned on the railing, listening as Renée gave him the details on his newest mission, which required an early morning flight out of the Portland airport, final destination Brazil. He listened moodily, watching the guys working on the house he'd spent the day on yesterday. It was a beautiful, sunny day, and the Maine sun was warm on his skin. Behind him, in the kitchen, he could hear the clank of dishes as Chloe got breakfast ready. He could hear the murmur of the women in the front room as well. They were all sounds of such normalcy, almost serenity.

  He realized he wasn't ready to leave this. He wanted to stay here. He wanted to build shelves, put on roofs, and make love to Chloe all night long. A simple existence, but the mere thought of it made peace breathe through the cells of his body that had been so tense for so long.

  "Blue?" Renée's voice broke through his thoughts, and he swore.

  "Yeah?"

  "Are you listening?"

  Blue took a deep breath. "I am. A single guy, working for a high-level company, massive ransom demand. I got it."

  Renée sighed. "No, I meant about the last case, what I said about that."

  Blue tensed at the mention of the mission that had resulted in the death of his new partner. Suddenly his whole world came crashing back down around him, violent and angry, as if trying to punish him for daring to forget about the dark side of life, and daydreaming about a life where everything was roses and peaches, or whatever that damn saying was. "What about it?" His voice was clipped intense.

  "The results came in from the evaluation. His gun jammed. It wasn't your fault. I wanted you to know that."

  Blue closed his eyes and bowed his head, his fingers gripping the upper rail of the railing. "Thank you." He didn't feel relief, though. He could still remember that moment when all hell had broken loose. His job had been the hostages. His job had been to get them to the helicopter. He'd done his job, entrusted his partner to do his. It wasn't until he had the hostages in the helicopter, that he realized his partner wasn't on his way. It was too late by then, and he'd had to go back later to retrieve him. The hostages had been safe, but it hadn't felt like a victory that day.

  "Also, I'm going to text you a video that I think you should see."

  Blue ran his hand through his hair, trying to breathe the way he'd been breathing before he'd taken the call, but his lungs felt tight again and constricted. "What's the video?"

  Renée hesitated. "It's kind of like a thank you note from one of the families you helped."

  Blue tensed, knowing he would never watch that video. He knew damn well the feeling of relief and gratitude after a missing loved one was brought home. Watching somebody thank him would bring him back to that moment when he was fourteen, and he just didn't want to go there. "Yeah, sure. I'll watch it." The smell of coffee drifted out to him, and he turned around.

  Chloe was standing in the doorway holding two cups of coffee. She was watching him, her eyebrows raised in question.

  His instinct was
to wave her off so he could deal with Renée alone. His world was isolated and lonely, and there was no room for someone like Chloe in it. But something in him wouldn't let him do it. With a memory of his recent mission pulsing at him, right now, Chloe was what he needed. He nodded once, and held out his arm toward her.

  She smiled, that radiant smile that still made his heart clench, and walked across the deck toward him. She set the mug of coffee in his hand, and leaned against the railing, her shoulder up against his, her body providing a warm, stabilizing foundation for the emotions coursing through him.

  Blue set the mug on the railing, and wrapped his arm around Chloe, pressing a kiss to her hair.

  "So, how do you feel?" Renée asked. "Are you ready to get back to work?"

  Blue inhaled Chloe's familiar scent, and he knew the answer was no. Yesterday the answer had been no because he was too strung out. Today the answer was no because he just wanted to stay where he was. The second no wasn't a valid enough reason, so he nodded. "Yeah. I'm ready. I'll be there."

  "Excellent. I'll email you the flight information, and all the details of the mission that I have so far, along with the team you'll be working with. It's a couple new guys, but they're very good. You guys will be in good shape." She hung up without a goodbye, and he ended the call.