Chapter Fifteen #2
It took Chloe a moment to realize that Carrie was, in her hands-off way, giving her blessing. “You do?”
“They’re doing good work here, and they like my food. They treat you good?”
“Yeah.” Chloe swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat. “Yeah, they do.”
“Well, then that’s enough for me. Other people might have other concerns, of course,” Carrie said. “But that’s their problem.”
Anxiety was a hot, tight ball in her gut. “Right.”
“You’re a good kid, Chloe, and you’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ll be just fine.” Carrie walked over and pulled her in for a brief, hard hug, patted her twice on the back, then stepped back. “Now, go put the soup on the specials board.”
“Okay.” Chloe turned to go, then stopped. “Aunt Carrie? Thanks.”
Already back at her stove, Carrie just shrugged. “No sweat, kiddo. Go on, now. Oh, Katie said she did some bar prep, left you a list of what needs replacing or refilling.”
“I’m going to be so sad when she graduates and leaves us,” Chloe mused.
“You and me both,” Carrie muttered.
Chloe went to the bar and found Katie’s list, which kept her busy until opening. Customers trickled in at first, then flooded, and she was grateful that between making drinks and running back and forth to the kitchen—the soup was a big hit—she didn’t have much time to dwell on anything else.
It was during the lull after the first wave of diners and drinkers that Jesse and Knox strolled in.
They’d been working next door all day—she’d heard the bumps and thumps from upstairs, and through the still closed-off pub wall—but had cleaned up from their work day.
Both wore jeans, Jesse with his habitual flannel, Knox with a sweater in a deep, forest green.
It made the green flecks in his hazel his eyes brighter, gave them a dreamy glow.
Jesse’s dimple was winking at her from his thicker-than-usual beard, his brown eyes already dancing when he hitched onto a stool.
“There she is,” he said easily, warmth and a hint of something richer, deeper in the rumbled words. “How’s it going, beautiful?”
“Busy,” she replied, trying to keep her smile professional and pretend she didn’t want to cuddle him and kiss him and tell him how much she’d missed seeing him the last couple of days. “You?”
“We’re busy, too. Clicking right along next door.”
Knox hummed in agreement, settling on the stool next to Jesse. He was more subtle than his husband, the warmth and affection in his gaze more subdued. But it was there nonetheless, and she wanted to cuddle and kiss him, too.
But she couldn’t because then everyone would know she was sleeping with two married men, and she wasn’t ready to let that cat out of the bag. And that just sucked.
“You okay?” Knox asked, concern wrinkling his brow.
No, she thought. Not okay. But all she said was, “Fine. You guys want something to eat?”
They exchanged a glance, that non-spoken communication of long-term couples passing between them, and she felt a pang of envy. She wanted that with them, she realized, that level of knowing and understanding that came from years together.
She wanted years together.
“The soup’s really good,” she blurted out, burying the envy and the twinge of pain. “It’s creamy ham and potato with cheddar.”
“That sounds good to me.” Jesse was watching her carefully now, dimple nowhere to be seen. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Just a little tired,” she improvised. “I stayed up too late working on some new pieces.”
“Those?” Knox asked with a nod to her earrings.
“No, these are old favorites.” Hammered copper discs on thin wires, they were one of the first pairs she’d ever made.
“Your sister would like those,” Jesse told Knox. “You get her anything for her birthday yet?”
“Not yet, and she would,” Knox agreed.
“Do you replicate designs, or are they all like, exclusive, one-of-a-kind deals?” Jesse wanted to know.
“I could make another pair.” Chloe looked at Knox. “When is your sister’s birthday?”
“March fifteenth.”
“Beware the ides of March,” Jesse said dramatically.
Knox just chuckled. “Is that enough time to make another pair?”
“Sure.” Elbows on the bar, Chloe leaned forward and angled her head. “Do you want them just like this, or a different size?”
Knox leaned in, eyes narrowed. “I think that size works, but she tends to wear bigger pieces. What do you think, Jess?”
“Definitely bigger.” Like Knox, he inched closer to peer at the earrings. “These are what, about the size of a dime?”
“Close to that, yeah,” Chloe said.
Jesse lifted a hand to finger the copper disk dangling from her left earlobe. “Yeah, I’d definitely go bigger.”
Chloe tried to ignore the scent of him, basil and fabric softener and Jesse. “How big? Nickle? Quarter?”
“Quarter, for sure.” Jesse dropped his hand so it lay on the bar next to hers, close enough she could feel the warmth radiating off his skin. “Maybe even bigger. Knox?”
On her right side, Knox glided his knuckles along her jaw, nudging her toward the light. The contact brought his scent, the faint hint of basil that came from Jesse, the spice of his shampoo.
“Yeah, bigger than a quarter,” Knox was saying, his face so close to hers as he examined the earring that she had no trouble at all imagining turning her head to kiss him. “A quarter is, what, an inch in diameter?”
“Just shy of,” Jesse confirmed.
“I think you can go double that,” Knox said. “Would that be doable?”
God, they were so close. Knox on one side, touching her, Jesse the other, not touching but right there, with his scent and his smile and his dark brown eyes so full of shared secrets.
Need rose up, and though she expected the spark of arousal and the tingle of desire, she wasn’t prepared for the emotion, the longing that had nothing to do with sex.
It clogged her throat and flooded her eyes, and before she could pull back and blink it away, a single tear spilled free, rolling down her cheek to splash against the back of Knox’s hand.
He froze, his eyes darting first to the salty splotch on his skin and then to her face, concern and something akin to horror flashing in his misty eyes. “Chloe?”
Jesse straightened, altered by the sharp note in Knox’s voice. “What’s wrong?”
“She’s crying,” Knox said, and she could only be grateful that his voice didn’t carry over the din of diners and music.
“Shit.” Jesse pushed his face next to Knox’s to peer into hers, his eyes wild, his hand groping for hers on the bar. “Chloe? What’s wrong?”
She shook her head, fighting to keep more tears from falling. She didn’t know why she was crying, except that there was too much emotion inside her and she couldn’t seem to keep it there. “I’m fine,” she insisted and tried to step back.
But Knox turned his hand to cradle her cheek, holding her in place, and his touch was so tender and so sweet she thought she might just start bawling. “No, darling, I don’t think you are.”
“Whatever’s wrong, we’ll fix it,” Jesse promised, his voice so sure, so strong, while panic flared in his eyes and his hand gripped hers like he was ready to yank her to safety.
Overcome, overwhelmed, she leaned forward to press her forehead to his. “I didn’t mean to do this. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“What wasn’t?” Knox asked quietly.
I wasn’t supposed to feel all of this, she thought, and was working up the nerve to say it out loud when Mo said, “What the hell is going on here?”
Chloe leapt back, jerking her hand out of Jesse’s. Mo stood at the end of the bar, hands fisted on her hips, her face grim and her eyes hot. Oh, shit. “Nothing. Knox was, um, looking at my earrings.”
Mo, not an idiot, narrowed her eyes. “Your earrings.”
“For his sister. Her birthday’s coming up, and he thought she’d like them,” Chloe explained, choking back the panic that wanted to bubble free. “He wondered if I could make another pair, but with bigger discs.”
“And you were, what, kissing him out of gratitude?”
Chloe blinked. “I wasn’t kissing him.”
“Dammit, Chloe, I warned you about this.”
“Warned her?” Knox asked.
Mo didn’t so much as spare him a glance. “You’re fucking them, aren’t you?”
“Hang on a minute,” Jesse said, getting to his feet.
Mo shot him a sulfuric look. “You stay out of this.”
“The fuck I will,” Jesse said, temper flashing.
“Easy,” Knox murmured, laying a restraining hand on his husband’s arm. “You’re out of line, Mo.”
Mo’s sturdy body stiffened with outrage. “I’m out of line?”
Knox’s reply was calm, measured. “Yes. Chloe’s a grown woman—”
“Who’s fucking two married men,” Mo shot back. “Apparently Jesse isn’t the only fuckboy on the team.”
Knox’s face went hard as stone. “Watch it.”
Her stomach in her knees, Chloe stepped forward. “Aunt Mo, stop it.”
Mo turned back to Chloe. “God, Chloe, what were you thinking? What is your mother going to say?”
Chloe couldn’t stop the flinch. “Just…back off, okay? This isn’t your business.”
“Of course, it is! You’re my niece. You’re my employee. How do you think this makes the bar look? The new restaurant? We’ve put everything into this, Chloe, and you, this… God, it could wreck everything.”
Knox came off his stool as shock sent Chloe stumbling back. “Mo, come on.”
“Are you firing me?” Chloe asked through lips gone numb.
Mo’s eyes flickered, unease rippling over her face. “I didn’t say that.”
The numbness was spreading. Chloe couldn’t feel her hands, her feet. “That’s what you’re implying.”
The unease on Mo’s face grew. “You have to understand the impact something like this could have on our reputation, Chloe.”
“Jesus, Mo, listen to yourself,” Jesse urged. “You don’t hear how fucked up that sounds?”
“You want to talk about fucked up?” Mo countered. “You two are married. What the hell are you’re doing with my niece?”
“We’re consenting adults, and so is she, and it’s none of your damn business,” Jesse countered, walking around Knox to get in Mo’s face.
Chloe fought with the ties on her apron, finally dragging it off to lay it on the counter.
The raised voices were starting to draw the attention of the other bar patrons, conversations quieting and heads turning to watching and listen, the humiliation of that had her hurrying out from behind the bar.
Mo stopped shouting at Jesse to frown at her. “Chloe? Where are you going?”
She shook her head and kept going.
“Chloe?” Knox called.
“Shit,” Jesse muttered.
The kitchen door swung open to reveal a sweaty and irritated Carrie. “What the hell is going on out here? I can hear you over Mike’s shitty punk music in the kitchen.”
Chloe just kept going.
She grabbed a coat off a hook in the office and walked out the back door into the falling snow.