9. Gus
Chapter 9
Gus
F rom my living room, I surveyed the woods, taking in the view of my land with fresh eyes. My house wasn’t big, but it was beautiful. I’d built it myself, using timber I’d harvested from the acreage I’d bought when I was twenty-six.
Back then, I’d been so excited to be a landowner, and it had felt so incredible to own this little slice of the wilderness.
The house had taken years. First, I’d lived in a trailer on the property, thinking it’d take a year to build the house. But boy, was I wrong.
Building a house was like building just about anything of importance in this life—it took way longer than anticipated. It tested a person and challenged them to grow in ways they never could have imagined.
It took seven years, but eventually, I moved into my dream house. Every detail was precisely the way I’d designed it.
I didn’t want a log cabin. It was too on the nose for a professional lumberjack. Instead, I went timber style—post and beam construction, with stone accents. I made sure every piece of granite was mined here in Maine too. The first floor was anchored by a large floor-to-ceiling fireplace, and I’d spent a small fortune on glass. There were windows everywhere—what good was it having thirty acres of forest if I couldn’t see the trees?
For a time, I thought I’d raise a family here. Build a treehouse out back for the kids and host Sunday cookouts and family flag football games.
But the opportunity never arose. Or, more accurately, I never took any of the opportunities that presented themselves. I’d always told myself it was because I was so devoted to my work and the company. However, it was becoming clearer by the day that my aversion to finding a woman I could settle down with had more to do with my ex-wife than I was willing to admit.
And she was coming here. To my house.
What would she see?
A recluse who’d built a fortress in the woods? A lonely man clinging to an identity that no longer fit him?
I wanted Chloe to like my house. It was an extension of who I was. Part of me wanted to show her that I’d been just fine. That I’d recovered from losing her and that I’d done well. And at the moment, I didn’t have much to show for myself except my house.
The FBI meeting had gone well today, and truth be told, we’d made a good team. Afterward, the dinner invitation came out of my mouth before I could think better of it, and I’d gotten the shock of my life when she’d accepted.
I hadn’t wanted to spend extra hours reviewing every single detail with the legal team, but I’d done it for the company, and, if I was being honest, for her.
She’d bailed us out. She’d taken it all on. And she didn’t deserve to be dragged down by my dad. The shit with him was over. Done with. Of course, there would always be crime. This was rural Maine, and shit went down all the time, but this company had new leadership and a fresh start. Chloe deserved that.
She arrived exactly on time, holding two bottles of wine.
“Double fisting?” I asked as she climbed the porch steps.
She shrugged. “I figured I’d need a whole bottle to myself to survive dinner with my ex-husband. Don’t worry, Karl will come pick me up. I won’t drive like this.”
I nodded, already feeling out of sorts. This was a terrible idea. Why had I even suggested it? I’d given into a moment of weakness, and now I’d be paying for it all night.
Terrible idea or not, Chloe looked beautiful. She was wearing a slouchy black dress and simple sandals, with her hair swept into a ponytail. The look so different from what I was used to seeing in the office. Almost as if she’d worked hard to make it look like she hadn’t made any effort.
My brain had been flooded with nothing but thoughts of her since our day together in the woods. The forest had the magical ability to cut through bullshit and pretense.
I’d seen the real Chloe then. The smart, determined, fierce woman I’d fallen in love with so long ago.
My Dragonfly. She was still in there, beneath the designer clothes and the closed-off ice queen facade.
And it was fucking with me. Because I didn’t like her anymore. I resented her.
Our youthful mistake was ancient history, yet emotions were resurfacing far too frequently and far too potently. I wasn’t sure how to manage them, especially in light of the woman currently standing in my kitchen.
She was stubborn. And superior. She’d purchased my fucking company and was going to change every detail of the one thing I’d devoted my life to.
I opened one of the bottles and poured us each a glass.
When I held hers out to her, she took it and raised it to me silently. All the air escaped me when she hit me with a soft, warm smile as she brought the glass to her lips. There were no pithy, fun toasts fitting for this situation, so silence was probably the best option.
“Have a seat,” I said, flipping a dishtowel over my shoulder. “I’m almost finished.”
She headed over to the couch and sat on one end, near Clem. My dog watched her cautiously but didn’t cower when Chloe gently stroked her ears.
“She is certainly… unique for a pit bull.”
I looked up from my chopping. “Shelter said she likely has some spaniel in her too.”
“You’re beautiful and one of a kind,” she cooed to Clem, who then did the most shocking thing I’d witnessed since my dad’s arrest. The dog jumped onto the couch and put her head in Chloe’s lap.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I was so blown away by the move, I almost cut myself.
Chloe sipped her wine, happily petting my dog. “What?”
“She’s afraid of everyone. Never wants to cuddle.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me. We’ve reached an understanding, but there are no spontaneous displays of doggie affection in this house.”
Ugh. Traitor. I loved that dog with my whole heart, and she was now cozying up to the woman who had already broken me once and might just go for a repeat.
“Tell me how you found her.”
With a nod, I turned to the fridge. “I found her at the shelter. I took one look at her face and fell in love.” Ducking low, I pulled the cheeses from the dairy drawer. “It took weeks for her to trust me,” I said as I straightened and returned to the counter. “I’d show up every few days and sit outside the gate, reading a book. If she wandered over, I’d offer her a treat. Slowly, she got used to me. Eventually, she got comfortable enough to let me take her home.”
“That is so sweet,” Chloe said, her dark eyes filled with a warmth I hadn’t seen in a long, long time. “You are such a glutton for punishment.”
Some things hadn’t changed since my youth. “We’re only a few months in, but we’re working on it. She likes going for walks in the woods, and she loves coming to work. I figure if I keep at it, she’ll eventually be my best friend.”
Chloe tucked her legs up under her, looking far too good in my house. Just the thought was making me itchy.
“I always wanted a dog.” She sighed.
I looked up and locked eyes with her. “I know.”
For a long moment, we stayed like that, regarding one another. Sorrow hung in the air between us. A sadness about what could have been. About the people we used to be and how far we’d wandered away from those beautiful, idealistic young souls.
Chest tightening, I took a massive gulp of wine. I wasn’t a big drinker, but tonight was looking like an exception. My brain flashed with one confusing thought after another, and I desperately wanted to enjoy myself and turn off all the noise.
I had been an idiot. I acknowledged that. But I’d loved her so purely and so completely. Could I ever do that again? I wasn’t so sure. Life had left me too jaded to even try.
She wandered up to the island and refilled our glasses, this time filling them almost to the rim. She was clearly as nervous as I was.
She was bringing her glass to her lips again when her eyes widened.
“You didn’t,” she breathed, eyeing the board I’d assembled.
“I did.”
She clapped and bounced on her toes, dropping the bitchy facade. “You made me girl dinner.”
“I don’t know what that is, but I know you’d rather eat cheese and crackers than a real meal, so I figured this would be a safe choice.”
I’d made the charcuterie board myself. The ones at the store were tiny, and when Adele had asked me for one, I’d made a few extra.
“Gus, there has to be five pounds of cheese here.”
“And meat,” I added. “Veggies, fruit, crackers, bread, nuts, chicken skewers, homemade hummus.”
“Stop. Did you slice that cucumber into a flower?”
I lifted my chin, gesturing for her to head to the back of the house.
The back porch was easily the best part of this place. One half was fully screened to keep the mosquitoes out, with a small table and outdoor love seat. The overhead fan kept it cool and the soft lighting was just enough to make it possible to see the mountains in the distance at night.
She brought the wine, smart girl, and we sat. The more cheese and wine we consumed, the easier the conversation flowed.
Her smile grew as the night progressed too. “I can’t believe you made your own hummus.”
“Tastes better this way.” I shrugged.
She threw a carrot stick at me. “If I’d known how annoying you’d end up being, I’d have made it a condition of the sale that you moved to Siberia.”
“As if there is any place on earth chillier than the room you inhabit,” I countered, popping a slice of cucumber into my mouth.
She narrowed her eyes. “I’m gonna let that slide because I’m really enjoying this Gouda.” She studied a slice, then gently slid it into her mouth and licked her lips.
“Since the cheese is clearly softening you up, want to tell me why you came back?”
Though we’d been eating and drinking for hours, the time had passed quickly. She was snappy and funny, and no matter how many times she insulted me, I wanted more.
With her lips pressed together, she regarded me for a moment. “Several reasons. But partially for my family. My sister Celine. She’s had a rough year.”
My stomach sank as I thought about Chloe’s sweet sister. “She okay?”
“No, she’s not. She’s married to a fucking asshole I wish I could strap to the end of a feller. But that’s old news.”
“Shit. You weren’t kidding about having specific murder plans.”
She leaned forward and hit me with a terrifying smile. “Don’t cross me, Hebert. You have no idea what I’m capable of.”
The threat didn’t hit the way she probably thought it would. I still liked her like this, feisty and passionate.
“My nephew, Julian, was diagnosed with autism a few months ago. It’s been hard on their family. It’s a good thing. Getting to a diagnosis takes a lot of work, but he’s finally getting services at school, which should help a lot.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“But her husband has been a real dick about it. She’s been navigating all of this alone. Taking care of her three kids and doing all this research and being an advocate for her son without any support for herself. I want to help, but I can’t actually help her.”
I slid my hand across the table and covered hers. “Don’t say that.”
“I mean it.” She ducked her head. “I’m not a mother. I’m not a doctor or a therapist. But I can show up.”
“And showing up is really fucking important.” I gave her hand a squeeze, loving the feel of her soft skin against mine.
“I think my nieces have been sidelined a little by all this. My sister is stretched thin. The whole situation has been rough on everyone. So I wanted to be here, for all of them.”
“Because you want to help,” I said.
This woman had always been so caring, so compassionate. Maybe I’d just forgotten that. Or maybe the wine had gotten to me. “And fix everything for everyone.”
She nodded. “You get it.”
“I do.”
She withdrew her hand slowly. I ached to grab it again but managed to control the urge.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and shifted in her chair. “If my siblings could just accept that I know best and do everything I tell them to, their lives would be so much easier.”
I laughed. “The scary part is that I feel the same way about my brothers. I’m older. I’ve already made all the mistakes and can navigate them through without doing the same.”
“Right? I know my need to control everything is a problem, but I just want to wrap the people I love up in bubble wrap and make their lives as easy as possible.”
I clapped, startling Clem, who was lying by the back door. “Yes. But.” I tilted my head, taking in the stars sparkling above the mountains. “To be fair, I may not always know best. I told my brother Owen to stay far away from Lila, and now they’re madly in love.”
She waved her hand. “Nah, at the time, with the information you had, it was probably the right call. You were only looking to protect them.”
I nodded.
“You said she dated Cole for a long time, right? So an ex-boyfriend’s older brother scenario? That seems messy. Has angsty romance novel written all over it.”
I leaned in and raised a teasing brow. Fuck, I loved how relaxed she was. “What about divorced exes?”
With a scowl, she dropped back in her chair. “Stop right there. No flirting.”
I picked up my wineglass and gave her a shrug. “I like flirting with you. Even though I don’t like you, pushing your buttons is a lot of fun.”
Her only response was a silent glower.
Why was riling her up so damn exciting? “It’s fine,” I said, my blood heating at her fierce expression. “If you want to ice me out, I’ll do all the work here.” I punctuated that last part with a wink.
The scoff that escaped her only made this more fun.
Pushing my chair back, I stood slowly, definitely feeling the wine. Carefully, I shuffled to the love seat and flipped on the tabletop gas fire. Once it was roaring, I reclined against the cushion. It was a beautiful night. The breeze was cool and the sky was full of stars.
All my defenses were fading away, thanks to the wine. Or maybe it was the company. I’d never admit it, but having her here, in my space, lit a spark inside me. I felt liberated, like I could be anyone and do anything.
After a few moments, she joined me. The wicker love seat was small, but she kept a healthy distance. I could have fixated on that space between us, but the thrill of her being so close overwhelmed me.
I turned to face her. “You are so beautiful. I want to say something witty, but that’s all I can think about right now.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Are you drunk?”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “A bit tipsy, maybe, but not even close to drunk.”
“Did you sustain a head injury?”
“Not that I know of.”
Her cheeks were tinged pink, and her eyes were just a little hazy, but her voice was clear. “You’re not frowning or growling or complaining. You’re relaxed and flirty. What the hell has gotten into you?”
“I’m having fun, Dragonfly. You’re pretty, and it’s a nice night. And my brain keeps thinking about how I never got to call you Mrs. Hebert and how much I would have liked that.”
She straightened and lifted her chin. “I will never change my name.”
“Great,” I breathed out. “Then I’ll take yours. The Hebert name’s been trashed anyway. It’s the kind of thing my dad would lose his shit over, but he’s in prison, so the joke’s on him.” I meant it. The family name, which had once been such a source of pride, didn’t matter much anymore. In fact, most of the things I’d previously cared about didn’t matter anymore.
“You’ve officially lost it.”
“Nah.” I leaned back against the cushion again and peered up at the stars. “I forgot how much I like spending time with you. How real and free I feel when you’re close by.”
For a long moment, we were silent, my words hanging in the air between us.
“God, you’re not letting up, are you?” she said, trying to brush off my confession.
Shifting so I was facing her, I took her hands in mine.
“I couldn’t if I tried. Just being here with you, even if you’re insulting me and reminding me that I’m unworthy of your presence, is still better than 100 percent of the nights I’ve had since you left. You could kick me in the balls right now, and I’d still be thrilled you came over.”
She let out a harrumph. “That’s a tempting offer.”
We regarded one another for a few moments, our hands linked, in total silence. She looked beautiful in the firelight, and I knew in my bones I needed to kiss her. It had been so long, but I’d never wanted anything more. The warmth of her skin against mine was making me reckless. It made me want something that I did not deserve.
Before I could give in, she stood and stomped her foot, breaking the trance. “God, you are so infuriating. Why do you have to be so charming and grumpy and handsome? Why can’t you just be shitty and stay in my past?”
Okay, so I guessed kissing was off the table.
“It’s not fucking fair, Gus,” she ranted.
“I’m not shitty,” I said, sitting up. “And neither are you.”
“Yes, we are. We’re shitty to each other. Hence why I shouldn’t even be here.”
I stood. “Yet you came running when I invited you.” I didn’t want to yell. I wanted to sit back down, pull her into my lap, and kiss her until she calmed down. Yet, here I was, giving as good as I got.
She threw her hands up and stomped into the house. “You are an impossible, pig-headed ass.”
“Takes one to know one,” I shouted, following as she rushed through the kitchen and into the living room.
She spun, her chest heaving and her face flushed. It would have been sexy as hell if I hadn’t been on the receiving end of a verbal assault.
With a finger in my face and a shaking hand, she continued her tirade. “You broke me, asshole. You tossed me aside for your true love. Your fucking trees.”
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her close. What the fuck kind of nonsense was she spouting? “You think I’ve been thriving over here?” I growled. “Take a look around, Dragonfly. I never recovered from losing you.”
We stood, staring each other down like angry bulls. Blood surged through my veins. My brain was in overdrive, and my body was ready to jump out of a plane or climb a mountain. That’s what this woman did to me. She wasn’t just a danger to my heart; she was a danger to my central nervous system.
I kept my focus locked on her, unblinking. I wouldn’t concede in my own house. We’d been having a pleasant evening until she’d escalated to name-calling. I could compartmentalize. I was a fucking adult, after all.
But my resolve slowly slipped away as I got lost in those molten brown eyes.
“It would have been better if you had just hit me with your truck—”
She cuffed the back of my neck hard, cutting me off, and said, “Fuck it.” Then she was pulling my lips down to hers.
Her kiss was angry and demanding and full of every emotion coursing through me. So I kissed her back, making sure she knew who was in charge.
She gripped my hair with both hands and in an instant, all my anger morphed into pure lust.
Our tongues tangled, and our hands squeezed and grasped as we kissed with wild urgency. God, her mouth was pure perfection. There was nothing timid or inexperienced about this woman. She was showing me exactly what she wanted, and I was more than happy to give it to her.
She pulled back, panting.
“You’re a really fucking good kisser,” she growled. “Makes up for your shitty personality.”
“I like you better when your mouth is busy,” I countered, pushing her back against the wall and pressing my lips to hers again.