Chapter 18
C hloe hadn’t spoken to me once she’d finally come back into the cabin, after having fixed more than her makeup. As soon as she’d stepped out of the lavatory, I’d zeroed in on the mask she’d fixed back into place.
Even avoiding looking my way, that joy had been unmistakable from the way she’d practically bounced in those ridiculous high heels, to the way she’d curled up in her large captain’s chair and excitedly dove back into her book for the last part of our flight, to the small smile that had graced her full lips when she’d looked out the window to take in the view as we’d started landing.
I’d been so torn between wanting to apologize for the things I’d said, wanting to lose control and grab her all over again—hold her like I had the right to—and wanting to beg her to say what she’d clearly been so close to revealing about her life, that I’d just sat there instead, silently stressing over this girl and what we were about to walk into.
Because it wasn’t just that she was about to get an inside look at my family—something no one got. It was...well, my family .
And then I’d watched the pilots become entranced by her in a few short seconds, all because she’d beamed that smile at them and thanked them for the flight. Nothing more, nothing less, but she’d hooked them. And I’d nearly punched them both.
This girl was making me lose my mind.
“This is incredible,” she said with a stunned laugh from where she sat in the passenger seat of my rented SUV, the first words she’d said to me since our argument on the jet. She shot me an amazed look before returning her excited gaze to where she had her hand stretched out the window, her fingers playing in the breeze. “It feels amazing.”
I grunted in acknowledgment, only realizing as my stare lingered on the chills skating along her arms that she probably didn’t have anything packed for Colorado weather.
Not that it would be snowing yet, but the afternoons were still a near thirty-degree difference than where we lived in Texas. The mornings were even more so.
“What’d you, uh...” I cleared my throat and forced myself not to think of what she might’ve packed for a trip to Aruba. Thinking of Chloe in a bathing suit was something I couldn’t afford. Especially when I was already having a hard enough time convincing myself I couldn’t touch her again. “The days will only hit about mid-seventies right now. Mornings are gonna be cold. I’m guessing you don’t have a jacket or sweatshirt.”
Another laugh left her, the sound doing the craziest thing to me. “Not a chance.”
“Right,” I mumbled as I tried and failed to ignore the way she looked beside me. Red hair brighter with the sun shining on it, whipping all around her and amplifying the smell of coconut and vanilla as she laid her head on her arm and happily watched the world pass by.
Other than the wind, silence engulfed the car as I drove, but it wasn’t the same strained silence as before.
This was the silence of a girl taking in views she’d never seen before, and a guy taking in the girl he needed to keep far from him.
I barely managed to hold back a cynical laugh when I was hit with a memory from the jet—Chloe’s wide, hazel eyes filling with surprise and longing when I’d, once again, acted impulsively around her. Reaching for her and curling my hand around her neck because I didn’t seem to know how to stay away from her, even though I knew I needed to.
Or maybe I wasn’t as sure of that as I’d once been.
Now more than ever, I knew she was hiding something. She’d confirmed it on the jet. But my certainty that her secret would bring ruin to the people around me had significantly diminished since Chloe’s first day. I’d been sure my fading assurance had only been because I’d wanted her to be someone I could trust.
Because I’d been unwillingly falling for the little threat at the front of the office.
But along with confirming her joy was a shield, she’d made me rethink everything I’d thought I’d known about her. She’d all but destroyed the remnants of my suspicions concerning her.
Didn’t change that, for over a decade, it’d been ingrained in me to get every last detail before clearing even the slightest threat.
I glanced at her contented smile and felt everything in me pull toward a girl who wasn’t doing a thing to draw me to her. It was just her . This girl who wasn’t at all my type and was everything I couldn’t look away from. This girl who made me feel like I was losing my mind and who intrigued me a little more with every thought.
Forcing my stare back on the road, a muscle in my jaw twitched as I ground my teeth.
I needed to keep my distance, and I needed to clear her...right?
Once I turned into Old Colorado City, I felt the corner of my mouth tip up at the way Chloe started gushing over how adorable the area was, with its shops and restaurants.
“What are we doing here?” she asked excitedly, turning in her seat to face me.
“Getting you clothes,” I said pointedly. “You’re gonna need a sweatshirt, at least.”
“Right,” she said with a nod as if she’d already forgotten our conversation.
“Besides, I need to run into the bakery up there,” I told her, gesturing to it with a jerk of my chin. “My mom’s obsessed with their muffins, but she refuses to buy them for herself.”
“So, you buy them,” Chloe assumed, her smile softening in a way that had me doing a double take before I focused on the road again.
“We all buy them,” I gently corrected. “Whenever anyone comes over here, we get some for the house and a couple just for her.”
An adoring hum sounded in Chloe’s throat. “That’s sweet.”
I didn’t respond. I wasn’t sure I could when just talking about my family had a nauseating dread slipping through my veins all over again. Because this wasn’t just Chloe—a potential threat—getting close to my family. This was something so much worse than that, and I hated Briggs for putting me in this position.
Not that he was unaware of what bringing Chloe home would mean, he just didn’t care.
He viewed this as a mission, and since Monroe and I were the only ones not from Texas, he’d chosen me to take Chloe since I was already keeping such a close eye on her . I hadn’t missed the hidden meaning or the look he’d given me when he’d said that. I’d also lied and told him he was wrong, which only led to him mumbling, “Keep telling yourself that,” as he’d walked away.
“Look, there’s something you need to know,” I said once I’d parked, but instead of looking over at where I could feel her eyes on me, I just stared blankly at the steering wheel. “My family...I come home when I can, but it’s still probably only about once or twice a year. So, when I do make it back, my brother and sisters do what they can to make sure they’re there too.”
A hum of understanding sounded from beside me. “And you don’t want me taking away from that time.”
A huff of a laugh punched from me, but nothing about this was funny. “It isn’t that. It’s...it’s that this is all gonna be so much worse,” I muttered to myself, then leaned back and dragged my hands over my face.
“Drop me off at a hotel or motel...whatever,” she said as if it were as simple as that, all in that bright, joyful tone she so easily forced. “I already told you I wouldn’t mind.”
“I can’t.”
“Well, technically, you?—”
“I can’t,” I said over her, then finally turned to face her. “I also can’t bring anyone home.”
Her head slanted ever so slightly as the most adorable expression of confusion stole across her face. “Okay,” she said slowly, drawing out the word. “So, take me to a hotel or a motel.”
“No, you’re not getting—” My head quickly shook because it wasn’t her fault she wasn’t understanding; I just didn’t know how to explain it to her. Or maybe it was that I didn’t want to. Swallowing past the sudden knot in my throat, I said, “Once any of us turned eighteen, my parents always said we couldn’t bring a bunch of people home, trying to fit them into the family, only for them not to work out. So, if we brought someone home, then it had to be someone we were sure of. So sure, futures had been talked about in depth and engagements were coming soon.”
As I spoke, Chloe’s face fell and drained of color until her freckles stood out against her pale cheeks. “But I...” The words burst from her, but she quickly seemed to lose the ability to speak as she tried wrapping her head around what I was saying.
“You understand why taking you home is so difficult for me?”
“But you aren’t taking me to your home in that way,” she said as if trying to convince one of us.
“That’s the only way they’ll see it,” I assured her.
“So, don’t take me there,” she said on a slightly frantic laugh. “Leave me somewhere. Anywhere.” When I started arguing that I couldn’t—that it was my job to keep her in my sights all week—she hurried to continue. “Why can’t you just tell your family the truth? Do they know what you do?”
“They do,” I said slowly, even as my head shook and I prepared to tell her why that wouldn’t matter.
But her hand was already gesturing between us as she said, “Then tell them why we’re here. Tell them why I’m with you. Tell them it’s nothing.”
“You don’t know my family,” I told her carefully.
“Then leave me at a hotel,” she said as if she couldn’t understand why I wasn’t seeing that as a reasonable option—as the only option.
“What part of I can’t are you not getting?” I bit out. “I can’t, Chloe. I need to keep you with me.”
“Then stay with me,” she shouted back in her near hysteria, only to quickly backtrack as heat flooded into her cheeks. “Wait, wait...not like that. That isn’t what I meant. I just meant, like, stay there . In the same place. Not with me.”
“And ruin everything we’re doing?” I challenged darkly. “Mafia families are smart. The Wreckers will know it’s entirely possible we split up you, Lainey, and Kaia, and they might look into it. So, in case anyone follows us or is watching our banking activity, Rush needs to go through New York like he’s the only one there, and I need to go through this trip like normal. Not showing up to my parents’ house wouldn’t be normal.” I pointed out of the parking garage. “Which also means, we need to get you some clothes and get to my parents’ house before the Wreckers can even decide to send a scout.”
Chloe stared at me for so long that I was sure she was going into shock over the idea of pretending to be my girlfriend before she frantically searched through her bag to pull out her phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked when she started tapping on the screen, her fingers trembling ever so slightly.
“I refuse to spend a week lying to people—especially people I don’t even know,” she mumbled as she continued tapping. “I refuse to trick anyone into believing I’m dating someone—especially a man who hates me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
A disbelieving scoff bled from her lips, but before I could remind her we’d already had this conversation, I caught sight of what was on her phone.
Flights from Denver to Dallas.
“Don’t—what are you doing?” she cried as I ripped the phone from her grasp.
“Saving you, you infuriating woman.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m saving you ,” she argued as she fought to get the phone back. One of her arms wildly reaching as I held the other away by the wrist.
Locking the screen, I let her phone fall to the floor near my feet so I could grasp her other wrist, and softly demanded, “Tell me why it bothers you so much.”
Surprise had her hazel eyes widening before she gave a harsh shake of her head and flexed her hands. “What do you mean? This whole situation clearly bothers you too.”
“Not that,” I murmured, even though she was right. “Why does it bother you to lie to people, when earlier, you said you want to live a lie.”
Even if I hadn’t been holding her mostly upright, I would’ve seen the way her body sagged at the implication. I would’ve seen the pain that flashed in those eyes as she glanced away because it was the farthest she could get from me right then.
“I don’t lie to people because I enjoy it,” she finally admitted. “I lie for people.”
“What do you mean?” I asked when she didn’t elaborate.
When she glanced back at me, her hazel eyes were glassy with tears that never fell. “Think I’m a threat,” she whispered, the words breaking at the end. “Don’t trust me. Hate me, Adam, I don’t care. But I don’t owe you any of the things you keep demanding to know about my life.”
I should’ve told her my suspicions would only grow the more she kept things from me, but that would’ve been a lie of my own. So, I just bobbed my head before I found myself saying, “Told you I don’t hate you, Bubbles.”
Her eyebrows lifted, but a deep sadness settled over her as she pulled her wrists free. “Maybe the day you stop seeing me as a threat will be the day I believe you.” Just as she reached for the handle of the door, she stopped and slanted her head my way again. “I’m guessing you packed a jacket?”
“Hoodie,” I confirmed.
“Only one?” she asked as her head tilted a little more so those eyes could search me.
“Two,” I answered, unsure of where she was going with this, even as she nodded and popped open the door.
“If you’re not letting me go back to Texas, and if you won’t drop me off at a hotel, then we should just go to the bakery and head to your parents’ house.”
I started telling her she’d drown in my hoodies just as an image of her in one of them slammed into me, stopping me from opening my own door.
As if needing to help me get to the conclusion I’d just reached, she turned once she was standing outside the SUV but wouldn’t look at me, embarrassment and a whisper of sadness weaving through her words when she said, “Girlfriends do that sort of thing—wear their boyfriend’s clothes.”
Except she wasn’t mine.
And from the shame radiating from her, I had a feeling she was remembering a relationship where she hadn’t really belonged to the other guy either.