Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“Earth to Chloe. Pass the potatoes, pipsqueak.”
Chloe gave her brother Jett a dirty look, but passed the bowl of scalloped potatoes as she did so.
Jett dipped out a healthy portion before handing the bowl to their foster brother, Zac.
Jett looked at her and shook his head. “Damn, girl. Where the hell are you today? I asked you three times to hand me those before you even heard me saying your name.”
She shrugged. She’d been floundering around, lost in her own thoughts since running into Blake again at the studio on Thursday. Seeing him had brought up a whole bunch of feelings—sadness, regret, anger—as well as an unbearable mountain of lust. He’d been her first and, while she’d never admit as much to the asshole, there was some truth to that line about him ruining her for all other men. While she’d taken her fair share of lovers, Blake had always been the yardstick she’d compared them to and none had measured up. Not even close.
Which pissed her off even more because hell would freeze over before Blake Mills touched her again, and she didn’t care if that meant taking responsibility for every single one of her own orgasms from now until the end of time.
“Chloe!” This time it was Justin yelling her name.
“What?” She didn’t bother to hide the irritation in her tone. Her annoying brothers could see she was distracted. Why didn’t they just leave her alone?
“What’s wrong?”
“For the last time, nothing.”
Her mother tilted her head, studying her face. “This is about Blake, isn’t it?”
The head of every sibling at the table flew up.
“Blake Mills?” Caliph asked.
She closed her eyes, wishing she were anywhere else right now. Seeing her first love had thrown her for a loop. There was no way she was ready to undergo the Spanish Inquisition about that unexpected reunion with her family. “He’s one of the models for the Blessing House calendar.” The Blessing House provided temporary housing for homeless families. Her mother had served on the board for years, organizing fundraiser after benefit auction after bake sale to keep the House open and solvent.
This year, the fundraising committee had decided to take a page from the book of other large cities, putting together a sexy calendar as a fun way to raise money. The calendar, “Hot Hunks in the Big Easy,” was gathering a lot of attention, and given her mom’s successful track record, was certain to make a slew of cash for the Blessing House.
Justin looked at Mama. “You’re putting thugs in the calendar?”
Chloe grinned, appreciating his appalled tone. It was nice to know her brothers always had her back.
“No. We’re not. Agnes Rogers found him. Apparently, Blake is a detective with the NOPD these days. She called me a couple of days ago to say the police department would be well represented.”
“The hell you say,” Jett proclaimed. “How hard up is the city for law enforcement? They’re hiring crooks now?”
“Who is Blake Mills?” Caliph’s girlfriend, Jennifer, asked. Jen and Caliph had started dating a few months earlier. Since then, she’d become a staple at the family’s Sunday dinners. Chloe adored the woman and hoped she and Caliph would stick.
“Chloe’s first boyfriend,” Caliph answered. “A real badass and every father’s worst nightmare when it comes to the guy you don’t want your daughter dating.”
“He wasn’t that bad,” Mama said. “I swear that poor boy’s reputation has grown more despicable with every telling. Next thing I know, y’all will be swearing he was a serial killer and responsible for every hurricane to ever hit New Orleans.”
Chloe sighed. Mama had never wavered in her belief that there was some good buried deep inside Blake. Right after she’d gotten off the phone with Mrs. Rogers, Mama had called Chloe to make sure she was okay with taking pictures of Blake. Chloe had assured her mother it wouldn’t be any big deal, but she’d never managed to pull the wool over Mama’s eyes and obviously she hadn’t fooled her this time either.
Of course, since learning he’d joined the police force, her mother acted as if her faith in Blake had at last been proven true.
“We broke up when he stole money from Mama and took the silver serving platter my grandmother had given my parents as a wedding gift.”
Jennifer winced. “Yikes. Doesn’t sound like a very nice guy. And you say he’s a cop now?”
Chloe nodded. “Yeah. And he’s posing for the calendar.”
Jennifer reached over and squeezed her hand gently. “That can’t be easy for you. I know I wouldn’t want to have to work with my ex on anything. Ever.” Jennifer’s ex-husband had left her for another woman. That painful event had led to her meeting Caliph. In an attempt to reinvent herself, Jennifer had shown up at Midnight Ink and gotten her first tattoo from Caliph. Since then, Chloe had watched her older brother fall head over heels in love with the woman. It was sweet. Even if it did reinforce the loneliness that had plagued Chloe lately.
She would be thirty on her next birthday, and while that age wasn’t bothering her, it forced her to recognize some things she’d been ignoring. Like the fact she wanted kids. A slew of them like her mother had. Chloe absolutely adored her big family and she dreamed of having her own. But to do so, she had to get serious about dating and finding the man she wanted to marry. She’d put off doing that for too long, focusing instead on building a clientele for her photography studio and putting her book together.
“It’ll be okay, Jennifer. I really only have to see him one more time. I’ll snap a few pictures and walk away. No harm, no foul.”
A quick glance at her mother’s face proved her lie wasn’t convincing the one person she really wanted to believe her.
Before she could reassure Mama she was speaking the truth, the doorbell rang.
“Chloe’s the closest,” Jett pointed out, not bothering to put his fork down as Zac snickered.
She rolled her eyes. They may all be adults, but there was something about returning to this house each Sunday that seemed to bring out the child each of them held on to. “Lazy jackass.”
Jett gave her a shit-eating grin as she rose to answer the door while they all continued eating.
She barely paid attention as she swung open the front door. It wasn’t unusual for neighbors or friends to stop by on Sunday, as they knew the entire family would be there. Mama always made enough to feed an Army and as such, there was plenty of room at the large table for one or two or twelve drop-ins.
Chloe wasn’t aware that her mouth had flown open until Blake placed his hand on her chin to push it closed.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Blake smiled. “Mama Lewis invited me.”
Chloe shook her head. “That’s Mrs. Lewis to you and she wouldn’t do that.”
“Chloe,” her mother called out from the dining room. “Invite him in.”
Chloe closed her eyes, hoping that by blocking out Blake’s cocky face, he’d simply vanish. When she opened them to find him still standing in the doorway, she muttered, “I’m going to kill her.”
Blake chuckled. “If you do that, I’ll have to pull out my handcuffs and arrest you.”
She was tempted to slam the door in his face, then reconsidered as a wide smile crossed her face. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
Blake’s lowered brows betrayed his sudden suspicion at her quick change in demeanor. “You like the idea of handcuffs?” He grinned, his dirty mind kicking in.
“No, perv, I don’t.” She was lying, but she wasn’t about to admit her libido had suddenly jerked into gear at the thought. “You realize you’re about to willingly walk into the lion’s den, right? My brothers will tear you limb from limb.”
Unfortunately her threat didn’t faze the infuriating man. “I’m banking on your mother to protect me. But just in case,” he patted his hip, drawing her attention to his holster, “I’m packing.”
There was no way she could convince him to leave and time was up anyway. If she stalled much longer, her brothers’ curiosity would win out and they’d all manage to make their way to the front door, lazy jackasses or not. She stepped aside, allowing Blake to enter.
He glanced around the entryway, looking fondly at the photographs and furniture. “It’s exactly the way I remember it.”
“Everyone is in the dining room and my food is getting cold.” Her tone was short and annoyed, but she didn’t feel like playing nice. He didn’t deserve it. He’d hurt her worse than anyone in her life and while that wound had been inflicted nearly a decade earlier, it ached as if it had happened only yesterday.
She hated that she’d let him get so deep inside her he still had the power to cause her pain.
Blake waited for her to lead the way. She kept her eyes on her mother as they entered the room together. She didn’t have to look at her brothers to see how pissed off they were.
Jett stood, his stance pure aggression. “What are you doing here?”
“I invited him,” Mama replied, as if bringing the man who’d stolen from their family into their home was the most natural thing in the world. Of course, for their mother, it was. Her capacity for forgiveness was limitless.
Chloe could only assume that attribute skipped a generation because God knew she couldn’t find it in herself right now.
Her mother rose, then gestured to an empty chair next to her as she grabbed a plate from the sideboard. “Help yourself, Blake.”
He smiled his thanks as he took a seat. “I apologize for being late. Wound up pulling some overtime after the midnight shift. Lots of idiots on the street last night. Took me a few extra hours to finish the paperwork.”
Chloe reclaimed her seat, grateful that Justin sat between her and Blake.
Blake kept his attention on her mother, pointedly ignoring the glares he was receiving from everyone else at the table. “I was sorry to hear about Papa Lewis.”
Mama smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Blake. We all miss him something terrible.”
That was an understatement, but Chloe didn’t say anything. Though her father had passed away three years ago, sometimes it felt as if he was just away, working on the oil rig and that he’d be back, crashing through the front door with that loud bellow of his, telling all his kids to get their asses downstairs so he could hug them. Her father had been a giant of a man—Caliph and Jett had gotten his stature—but as gentle as a butterfly.
“And what is your father up to these days, Blake?” her mother asked.
Blake fell silent for only a moment, then gave her a rueful smile. “He’s up to twelve months served on a twenty-year stint in prison.”
“Oh, I see.”
Blake shrugged. “Not surprised, are you?”
Mama shook her head. “Not really, but I am sorry.”
“Don’t be.” Blake’s voice was harder than Chloe had ever heard it. “I’m the one who put him there.”
“You put your own father in jail?” Jennifer asked.
Blake looked at Jennifer, clearly waiting for an introduction. Caliph quickly did so. “This is my girlfriend, Jen.”
Blake smiled. “Nice to meet you, and yeah, I did. He was selling drugs at some of the local schools. And not just marijuana, but ecstasy and heroin. I think there are a lot of people better off with him in jail.”
Chloe put her fork down, unable to swallow through the lump that had grown in her throat. She knew Blake’s childhood hadn’t been easy, but he’d never shared many details about it with her. She hadn’t known him at all until the summer he’d gotten a job at the sub place near the community college she attended. They’d both gone to different public schools, growing up on opposite ends of the city.
“I’m sorry, too,” Chloe said softly. Blake caught her gaze, his eyes reflecting too many emotions to register—sadness, regret, anger, remorse. She looked away rather than face them. She’d seen all those things when they first met as well.
Maybe she was more like her mother than she realized—inexplicably drawn to people in pain, in need of rescue. Though Blake sure as hell hadn’t let her save him. She doubted that would change now and she refused to be pulled back into Blake’s life.
Jett broke the silence. “Guess the police force is a more interesting job than Sid’s Sub Shop. Isn’t that where you used to work?”
Blake nodded. “Yeah. Met Chloe there. She used to do homework between classes at the table in the corner.” He faced her once more. “You still put down those Italian subs like you’re never going to eat again?”
Her brothers chuckled. She flashed them all dirty looks until they sobered up.
Blake may be older, but the bad boy was still there, lurking beneath his skin. She could see it in his face as he gave her a crooked grin.
It was the same smile that had captured her attention back in college. She’d taken one look at the bad boy behind the shop counter and fallen hard. A lot of people had tried to warn her away from him, telling her stories about how he stole beer and cigarettes from convenience stores, drove his motorcycle like he had a death wish and vandalized buildings. Blake had never denied the stories, but he’d never gotten caught either.
It hadn’t mattered to her at the time because when he was with her, he had been sweet and funny. Her badass biker boyfriend. Given her goodie-goodie status, it had felt scandalous to be with someone with a reputation and wonderful to be so adored by him. She’d always hoped she had helped him be a better person, while he taught her how to be just a little bit wicked. Whatever they’d done for each other, there had never been a doubt in her mind that Blake had loved her.
Until he disappeared. Then she’d spent months—years—wondering what had been real and what had been lies. In the end, she’d felt used and stupid. And so angry.
“It was wonderful of you to volunteer to participate in the calendar.” Her mom looked genuinely pleased and almost grateful.
Why was Chloe the only person who remembered the past?
Chloe snorted at her mother’s praise, drawing everyone’s attention to her. “He drew the short straw.”
Blake grinned, while Mama looked confused. “Short straw?”
Blake leaned back in his chair, looking far too comfortable and at home. “It’s a good cause. I don’t mind helping out.”
Caliph rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you don’t. As I recall, you don’t have a bit of trouble strutting around with your shirt off.”
Chloe gave Blake a superior smile, grateful for Caliph’s snide comment. Finally. She’d warned him about her brothers’ anger and though it would cost her in good karma, it felt good to watch them give Blake shit.
Blake crossed his arms, drawing too much attention to the muscles bulging beneath his t-shirt. “I figure those of us who haven’t let ourselves go owe it to those who have to step forward. By the way, I don’t remember seeing your name on the list of models, Caliph.”
Caliph’s eyes darkened as Jennifer slowly wrapped her hand around his wrist. Chloe was trying to decide if the touch was a warning or Jennifer’s way of holding Caliph in his seat.
“I’m still trying to convince my sons to participate. We have two slots open.” Mama gave Caliph a hopeful glance.
“I told you, Mama, I don’t think the older members of your group would embrace the idea of a guy covered in tattoos.”
Jennifer shook her head as if the argument was a familiar one. “I told him that only every woman who bought the calendar would be into that, but he’s stubborn.”
Caliph gave Jennifer a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Not every woman in the world is as open-minded as you, Jen. There are plenty out there who still turn up their noses when they see my ink. Besides, I have no desire to make a jackass of myself, posing like some king of GQ .”
Mama looked from Caliph to Justin, but he cut her off at the pass. “Don’t look at me. I already suckered Ned into doing it. You only need one marketing exec.” Ned Kinnaman was Justin’s partner at their advertising firm and one of the sexiest men Chloe had ever met. She was actually a bit nervous about photographing Ned. He literally oozed sex and sin.
Justin laughed when he spotted Chloe’s flushed cheeks. “See,” he pointed at her, making her blush even more. “That’s what Ned’s going to bring to the calendar. I’ve done my part.”
Chloe scowled at her brother for embarrassing her, then she caught a glimpse of jealousy in Blake’s gaze. Revenge reared its beautiful head.
“I’m not going to lie, Justin,” she said as she fanned herself. “I’m really looking forward to Ned’s day to pose. He’s February, and I’m envisioning putting him on my bed with red silk sheets, completely naked, except for a box of chocolates covering his?—”
“I think we get the gist,” Justin said, cutting her off and pretending to shudder. “We don’t need to hear the dirty details about your photo shoots with all those sexy bachelors. Good thing you’re single. You can have some fun as you work.” He winked at her, careful to make sure Blake couldn’t see his face.
Chloe loved her oldest brother and his nose for mischief. She had absolutely no intention of posing Ned that way and Justin knew it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t help her get a few digs in at Blake.
“I didn’t realize the photos were going to be risqué,” Blake said.
Mama frowned. “Neither did I.”
Oops. Chloe would have to tell her mom she was joking before she left today or she was liable to receive concerned phone calls from every woman on the fundraising committee tonight.
The rest of the meal passed much more easily than Chloe would have expected. Conversation turned to innocuous things as Justin described his latest project and Caliph and Jennifer talked about the long weekend trip they’d planned to take to Key West. Blake was a polite guest, answering questions about his work and complimenting her mother’s cooking.
Once dessert and coffee had been consumed, the family began to rise. Jett and Justin made their goodbyes, both claiming to have other plans, while Zac, Jennifer and Caliph went to the living room to watch TV. Her mother was tidying the kitchen, which left Chloe alone with Blake.
Blake peered toward the kitchen door. “Let me pop into the kitchen to thank your mom and then I’m going to head out.”
Chloe nodded as Blake disappeared into the kitchen. She walked to the front door to wait, anxious to see the frustrating man on his way. Her insides felt like churned butter and she was tempted to move Blake’s photo shoot forward, simply so she could get it over with.
She cheered herself up with a mental pep talk. She’d meet him at Lake Pontchartrain—she had no intention of ever getting on his motorcycle again—take the pictures, then turn around and walk away. This time, it was Blake who was going to see taillights. The whole thing shouldn’t take more than three or four hours. Surely she could survive that much more time in his presence.
“That’s a deep thought.”
She was startled by his voice, jumping slightly when she realized Blake was standing right next to her.
She put her hand on the doorknob, ready to get him the hell out of her mother’s house, but paused. “Should I pat you down to make sure you aren’t sneaking off with something?”
She felt horrible the moment the words crossed her lips, but there was something about seeing Blake again that was bringing out the worst in her. She didn’t consider herself a bitter person by nature, but for days, all she’d been able to summon was cold, hard anger. Well, that…and lust.
Blake took her comment in stride, lifting his arms. “You won’t hear any complaints from me. Take your time on that area below the waist. Lots of pockets down there.”
She blew out an exasperated breath, though she was able to admit she’d walked right into that one. “Don’t be such a pig.”
“Hey, you’re the one who offered. I’ve never looked a gift horse in the mouth. Should I turn around?” He spun, lifting his hands to the wall. The position sent her eyes straight to his ass, which he wiggled for her amusement.
One brief burst of laughter escaped before she could shut it down. Damn him. “Turn around and get out, you idiot.”
“I love your laughter.”
Chloe tried to ignore the tug his soft comment evoked. It had always been there between them—this electrical current that flowed hot and powerful, tying them together in ways Chloe could never understand…or fight. It was always sparks, heat, energy and painful need.
“Walk outside with me.”
Blake had her hand in his before she could refuse. It appeared his take-no-prisoners attitude was still there as well. She’d followed his lead when she was nineteen because she was young and inexperienced. If he still thought she was that same silly girl who would come merely because he beckoned, he was destined for disappointment. She tried to pull her hand away, but his grip tightened.
They participated in a mini tug-of-war all the way to his motorcycle. Once they were there, he reached for a helmet. “Hop on.”
She laughed at his audacity. “No.”
“Get on the bike, Chloe. You need to get away for a little while. I can see it in your face. When is the last time you escaped, letting wind and the road take over until you forgot everything and everyone?”
Ten years ago.
She didn’t say it aloud, but something in Blake’s expression told him he knew the answer. “I’m not getting on the motorcycle with you. Not now. Not ever again.”
“Yes, you will.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Blake?—”
“Our photo shoot, remember? We’re taking the Harley to the lake.”
“I have too much equipment. I’ll follow you there in my car.” She was pleased to see she’d stumped him with that. Clearly he hadn’t taken that into account.
Blake leaned against his motorcycle casually. “So what are your plans for the week?”
She shook her head at his audacity. “None of your business.”
He lifted one shoulder at her dismissal. “Maybe. Maybe not. You taking pictures of the manhandler?”
Chloe felt an uneasy flutter in her stomach. Blake Mills on a mission was never a good thing. He had the tenacity of a pit bull when he wanted something. She’d always blamed that on the fact he’d basically had to raise himself, given his father’s disinterest in his son and his lack of mother.
“Again, none of your business.”
“Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
Before she could stop him, Blake had one arm wrapped around her waist, the other diving into her back pocket. She placed her hands on his chest, intent on pushing him away, but the man was solid muscle, his chest rock hard. Once her phone was in his hand, he released her and took a step back. It bugged her that she hadn’t been able to break free on her own.
He clicked the cell on, taking her to task for her lack of a passcode. He went to the contacts page and, as she watched, added his name and phone number.
“I’m deleting that.”
“No. You’re not. At least not until all of the calendar pictures have been taken. You’re going to be alone with these guys and, while your mom and the committee might trust their characters, I’d feel better if you had my number handy. You feel threatened, even just a little, you call me. Okay?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Oh yeah?” Blake turned her phone off, grasping her once more. “Prove it.”
“What?”
He slid her phone into her back pocket, taking advantage of the opportunity to run his fingers over her ass. She tried to shove him away, but she’d have had more luck moving a mountain.
“Break free from my hold and I’ll delete the number myself.” His arms tightened around her.
Chloe’s mind whirled over all the self-defense moves her brothers had taught her when she became a teenager and got boobs. The more her body developed, the more intensive their training. “I don’t want to hurt you.” She put as much bravado into her tone as possible.
Blake laughed. “Of course you do.”
She noticed he’d positioned himself so that his balls were protected and her bent arms were trapped against his chest. She marveled at how familiar, yet different Blake’s body was. He’d always been tough as a young man, his body lean and fit, but now…
Chloe couldn’t help but wonder what drove Blake to work out so much. Why did he need to be so damn strong? Blake had only shared skeletal notes of his childhood with her, never giving details. All she’d had to go on was his scant information, usually shared by accident, and her gut feelings. Yet, she’d always viewed him as a wounded beast, striking out at the world as a means of defense. Chloe had also thought she was safe from his swing, assumed she was different.
She’d learned the hard way how wrong she was.
“Don’t, Blake.”
His arms loosened slightly. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t set your sights on this. On us. It’s not gonna happen.”
He didn’t move, continuing to hold her close. All of his attention, all of his focus homed in on her. She’d been the center of his universe for three glorious months. She remembered how special and wonderful that had been. Even so, it wasn’t worth the inevitable pain that followed. She wouldn’t play the fool for him again.
“I get it, Chloe. I’m sure you think I don’t, but I do. If I were a better man, I’d accept that I hurt you, that you have every right in the world not to trust me and I’d keep my distance. You didn’t deserve what I did to you and I’m not real sure how to make up for that. Maybe I can’t. But the thing is, I’m going to try because I’m not a good man. I’m a selfish bastard. And I want you. I never stopped wanting you.”
Chloe’s lungs seized as she struggled for air. There was determination written on every line of his face, but more frightening than that was the hunger in his eyes. She’d seen it before—in the faces of the foster kids her mother had taken in over the years. The kids had always looked like they were starving to death, like they would do whatever it took to get a bite of bread. Chloe knew that hunger wasn’t literal. What those kids—like Blake—wanted more than anything was love. Unconditional love.
“I can’t give you what you want. Not the forgiveness. Not the understanding. And not the…” She couldn’t say the word love to him. Couldn’t let that single syllable out in his presence. “I’m not the girl I used to be.” She wasn’t sweet, trusting, or gullible anymore. He’d squashed those characteristics out of her, stomped on them until they simply vanished.
Blake released her waist. She had only a split second of freedom before he took her face in his hands. She wanted to shove him away, but she was rooted to the spot. “Yes. You are. You’re still that girl and a hell of a lot more. But I’m more too. And I want a chance to prove that to you.”
She started to shake her head, but Blake’s grip tightened. “Blake?—”
Her denial was cut off with a kiss. The second his lips touched hers, she was transported back in time. Their first kiss had been right here, in almost this exact same spot. They’d spent weeks circling around each other at the sub shop, her flirting while he made completely inappropriate but entirely hot sexual innuendoes. Then one afternoon, he’d offered her a ride on his motorcycle and she’d accepted. They had ridden around the city for nearly an hour as Chloe clung to his leather jacket and breathed in the humid Louisiana air. They’d stopped at the French Quarter, walking along the crowded streets until dusk, talking about everything and nothing. When he’d pulled up in front of her house that night, Blake had gotten off the Harley, taken her face in his hands and kissed her.
It had felt just like this—exciting, scary, overwhelming, powerful. And then—like now—Chloe had been helpless to do anything other than accept.
Helpless.
The word jarred, going through her like nails on a chalkboard.
She placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed. Blake clearly hadn’t anticipated her refusal as he stepped back, slightly off balance at her rough shove.
“I’m going inside.”
He smiled. “Running away isn’t going to save you.”
Her pride piqued. “I’m not running. I’m finished with the conversation. I’ll text you later this week once I’ve found a place to take your photo for the calendar. We’ll get it over with and then, this,” she waved her hand between them, “is over. Again.” She stressed the last word, letting it punctuate her sentence like an angry accusation.
Of course, Blake didn’t acknowledge anything she’d said. “We’ll see.” Then straddled his bike, put his helmet on, fired up the engine and pulled away.
Chloe balled her hand into a fist, wishing she had something—anything—to punch. Blake infuriated her, pissed her off, left her struggling to keep her wits.
She released a loud “argh!” then muttered every bad name she could think of as she returned to the house. The front door had only just closed behind her when she heard her mother calling out for her to come to the kitchen.
She sighed. The kitchen window faced the front yard, which meant her mother had no doubt witnessed the entire scene with Blake. Great. Her Sunday just kept getting better and better.
“Did you need help with something?” Chloe asked, half-heartedly hoping for a reprieve. She didn’t get it.
Her mother was sitting at the small kitchen table, sipping a cup of coffee and looking wearier than Chloe had ever seen her.
Mama shook her head, then pointed to the chair across from her.
Chloe decided to take the bull by the horns. There was no purpose to beating around the bush. “I guess you saw Blake kiss me.”
Her mother didn’t reply at first. “Actually, no. I didn’t. I didn’t think it was my place to spy.”
Chloe bit her lip, wondering if there was any physical way to kick her own ass. “It didn’t mean anything.”
Her mother smiled, though the expression certainly didn’t depict happiness. “Aren’t you tired, Chloe?”
Chloe was. Exhausted. But she couldn’t understand how her mother knew that. “What do you mean?”
“Anger takes a lot of energy to maintain. You’ve been holding on to your Blake fury for nearly a decade now. Doesn’t that leave you drained?”
Chloe swallowed heavily. Truthfully, until running into Blake this week, she thought she’d let go of all those old hurts. If someone would have asked, Chloe would have laughed and sworn she didn’t have any feelings for the man one way or the other. This past week had proven that belief false. She was harboring more pain and rage than she’d thought possible. And her mom was right. It was wearing her out…dragging her down.
“I was just surprised to see him again. It sort of knocked me back to a bad time. But it’ll pass soon.”
“No. It won’t. None of this is going to go away until you forgive him.”
Chloe’s temper sparked. “Forgive him? God, Mama. At some point, you’re going to have to stop being a doormat, stop letting people take advantage of your kindness.”
“I don’t think it makes me weak to try to find the good inside people. That’s not being a doormat. It’s being compassionate.”
“And look what that compassion got you. Blake stole two hundred dollars from your purse. That was our grocery money for the week. Maybe you don’t remember how tight times were back then, but I do. We barely made it until payday at the end of the month.”
Her mother reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out a wad of money, tossing it onto the table between them.
“What’s that?” Chloe asked.
“Blake just gave it to me. Five hundred dollars. To replace the money he stole and to make restitution for the platter.”
“That doesn’t cover it. Grandma Jeannette’s platter was a family heirloom—irreplaceable. It was the only thing that survived the fire that destroyed everything your family owned. You were just sixteen and you lost everything. Everything except that platter. Maybe you think three hundred covers it, but I don’t.”
Mama sighed. “Chloe, you’re not mad about the money or the platter.”
Chloe wanted to deny it, but couldn’t. In some ways, it was easier to maintain her fury over tangible things. That was simpler to explain to her mother. To herself. If she delved deeper, she’d have to admit to things she couldn’t find the words to express.
“He said he loved me. Then he left without a word. Just disappeared for ten years. I guess in some ways he did me a favor. He taught me not to be such a sucker, not to believe everything someone tells me.”
“Have you ever considered there might have been a good reason for his departure? Have you asked him why he left?”
Chloe shook her head. She wasn’t interested in exploring ancient history. “It doesn’t matter now.”
Mama reached across the table and took her hand. “Of course it does. As long as this is hurting you, the reasons matter. It’s time to swallow your pride, Chloe, time to put aside your anger and get some answers. Otherwise, I’m afraid you’re destined to be tired for a very, very long time and I couldn’t stand to see that.”
“I’m sorry I called you a doormat. I didn’t mean it.”
Her mother grinned. “I know. Now…about this plan to have Ned posing nude…”
Chloe laughed, then spent the next hour reassuring her mother she and Justin were joking and that the calendar would be perfectly respectable.