Chapter 23 #2
“Actually, I do.” With my mug in hand, I aim one finger at the pergola. “Those posts are off. The spacing’s not right. And if you leave the rafters like that, the whole thing’s going to sag.”
He scoffs and shakes his head. “I’ve been doing this longer than you’ve been alive, kid.”
“And I’ve been building towers forty stories high since I was eighteen. I’m just telling you, man, it’s wrong.”
Harry clears his throat. “He’s right, Rick.”
Rick glares at him. “You stay outta it.”
“I would, but this is Chloe’s place,” Harry says firmly, his brows gathered.
That’s when it clicks why Harry’s even out here instead of drinking his coffee inside. He’s keeping an eye on Rick, making sure he doesn’t screw up Chloe’s pergola.
For a second, the knot in my chest loosens. Someone who knows about this stuff will be looking out for Chloe after I go.
But then the knot twists again, tighter than before. I love that she’ll be happy, don’t get me wrong. It just kind of stings that I won’t be here to see it.
“Exactly right. It’s my daughter’s place.” Rick smacks his fist onto his chest, snapping back my focus. “No one’s gonna tell me how to build her damn pergola. Fucking hell, I need a smoke.”
He stomps off through the gate.
“Time for me to clock off,” Harry says, holding his mug up to Chloe in thanks. “My show’s starting soon. Although, this one wasn’t bad.”
Chloe gives him a sweet look. “Just leave the mug here, Harry, it’s all good.”
I would’ve thought she’d chase after her dad after I bruised his ego, but instead, she comes up to me.
“You didn’t have to say anything to him,” she murmurs, obviously about Rick. She doesn’t look mad, though. Her eyes are all lit up.
“Yes,” I say gently. “I did.”
And so do you, Chloe.
She searches my face, her gaze clinging there, then threads her fingers through mine and squeezes. “Foreman Ethan is sexy.”
I reach out to hook a finger into her waistband, tugging her against me. “You liked that, did you? Me shouting orders.”
“You have no idea,” she says, then presses her lips to mine. Every cell in my body floods with heat as our tongues lightly brush, my hands cradling her face. By the time she pulls away, I’m dizzy.
“You hungry?” she asks.
“Not really.”
Her brows lift, probably because that’s not the answer I’d normally give. The weird ending to my conversation with Leo has left a pile of rocks in my stomach.
Chloe tilts her head. “Everything okay?”
Heat climbs across my cheeks. “Honestly?” I run a hand up the back of my neck. “I don’t know.”
Her brow furrows slightly, and she guides me to sit beside her at one of the new picnic tables. She blinks at me, waiting.
“Remember how I told you about my friend Leo?” I begin, staring down at the freshly-painted wood.
“Yes.”
I swallow tightly. “We spoke today on the phone, and he told me about this job he was going for, but didn’t get.
He’s been out of work for nine months and can’t seem to get hired, and…
” I suck in a deep breath. “I just feel really fucking shitty about it all. I told you about what happened when he got hurt. And no matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to talk to him.
” My shoulders rise and fall. “Every time he wants to chat, I hang up quick. I just… I clam up. I don’t know what to say. ”
Chloe flattens her hand over mine. “What would you say to someone else who had trouble getting a job? If it was one of your brothers, or a different friend?”
I think about it. “I don’t know… I guess I’d tell them not to give up. That it’s hard out there right now, but they'll find something eventually if they keep looking.”
“So why don’t you just say that to Leo?” She gives me a hopeful smile, but I can’t seem to return it.
“Ethan,” she goes on with a deep breath, “I don’t know what it’s like to be in this situation.
But I do know what it’s like when something bad happens to you and people start treating you differently.
When people around here found out I had cancer, a lot of them started tiptoeing around me.
Some avoided me altogether. When all I wanted was to be treated normally. ”
My eyes meet hers.
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t pay attention to what Leo needs,” she adds.
“Of course that matters. But don’t change your friendship just because things aren’t exactly the same as they used to be, or because you feel guilty about it all.
Your guilt isn’t his problem. He’s already had enough to deal with.
And I’m pretty sure the last thing he would want is to lose you. ”
Her face blurs a little, and I turn away, but she gently steers my gaze back to hers. “Sorry,” she says softly. “I didn’t mean to make you more upset.”
“No.” I take her hand and bring it to my lap. “Everything you’re saying makes sense.”
“Yeah. I do that sometimes.”
Her smile grows, and I lean in, touching my mouth to hers. This time, our kiss isn’t frantic or rough. It’s soft and slow, but it steals my breath all the same.
“I should go,” Chloe says against my lips. “Want to come over for dinner?” She climbs to her feet, tightening her lemon-yellow apron. “I should be home by sixish.”
“Sounds good.” It’s not lost on me that I’ve barely left Chloe’s side these past few days, and I’m not craving time to myself, which is so unlike me.
What does it mean?
Not that the answer matters, because we’re not meant for anything more than this.
A brief fling at the start of summer.
A drop in the ocean of our lives.
“I’ll see you later,” I say to Chloe with a tight-lipped smile.
After I drive home, I settle on the back deck with my book and end up catching about thirty minutes of shut-eye in the warm sun. Jeez, I’m not usually one to nap.
Later, I take a long shower, then change into jeans and a white T-shirt. I stare at myself in the mirror. My hair curls at the base of my neck, and my palm drags over the scruff on my jaw. I’m usually way more put together than this, but… I can’t say I hate how relaxed I look.
Just before six, I feed Kat and set her up in the laundry room with her bed, litter, and a few toys.
Clutching a bottle of wine I picked up on the way home, I head over to Chloe’s and rap my knuckles on the door.
Silence. Her bike is here, so I knock again, but it goes unanswered.
Panic sweeps through me. What if she slipped in the shower?
Or that fucking ridiculous shell chandelier she owns fell on her head?
The handle twists and the door opens. So she is home. I step inside, calling out Chloe’s name. There’s no response, and the lights are off. I dart into each room, but there’s no sign of her.
Frowning, I pull out my phone and call her number.
Relief floods my chest when she answers, sounding breathless. “I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m leaving right now, promise. We had some plumbing issues that threw everything off.”
I catch my reflection in the window, my lips falling open. Chloe left her front door unlocked again. How many times have I told her how dangerous that is?
“Do you want me to come take a look?” I ask.
“No, it’s fine, but thanks. Willow is dropping me home now. Meet you at mine in ten?”
“Sure.” I decide not to tell Chloe that I’m already standing in her cottage, along with the ghosts of Ted Bundy and Jack the Ripper. “See you soon.”