Fool for Love (20 page)

Her oven, the fridge, the porch, the shed, her ceiling. Now her damned transportation? She was torn between crying and screaming. Resisting both, she blew out of the Jeep and kicked the tire—twice—before throwing open the hood. She knew a little about engines but not a lot. She’d probably have to call Leo, ask him for a tow. She estimated charges and cringed. Maybe Adam could help. Not seeing any hissing, steaming or obvious broken valves or wires, she backtracked for her phone, pausing when she heard a car drawing near. Maybe it was someone with a knack for mechanics.

She stepped out to wave down the driver, not recognizing the make and model as belonging to anyone she knew. The dark-blue sedan slowed and suddenly Rocky’s skin prickled with dread. Living in a secluded area for years, inviting tourists into her bed-and-breakfast as a norm, she’d never been squeamish about encountering strangers. This moment, though, her heart pounded as though she’d just flagged down the devil.

In the next moment, a tall, well-built, golden-haired Adonis unfolded from the car. Even though his hair was longer and he’d grown a goatee … even though his eyes were hidden behind a pair of aviator sunglasses, her mind and body recognized him in an instant, responding with a familiar firestorm of emotions.

Of all the freaking people on the damned planet.

She would have preferred
Lucifer.

Rocky stood frozen as Jayce Bello strode toward her, an enigmatic expression on his absurdly gorgeous face. She hated him for being so incredibly good looking, so confident, so charismatic. She hated herself for being so affected, even after, even still. She shoved down traitorous yearnings and conjured ancient resentment. She hardened her heart and will, relaxed against her Jeep, and feigned a casual demeanor.

Even though they hadn’t spoken in over five years, he bypassed formal greetings. “You okay?”

She raised a brow, lacing her tone with more sarcasm than intended. “Don’t I look okay?”

He slid his sunglasses on top of his head and raked his bourbon gaze down her body.

She ignored the tightening of her belly, the sensual tingle between her legs. There was nothing sexy about her attire—faded jeans, layered tees, worn Nikes—yet his silent assessment betrayed a primal appreciation. Was he imagining the body beneath the clothes? She’d filled out in the bust and hips since he’d last seen her naked.

“Something wrong with the Jeep?” he asked, dragging his gaze from her curves to the open hood.

“Some detective you are.” Twice now he’d asked the obvious.

“Just trying to keep it civil, Rocky.”

So his deductive skills were indeed intact. He sensed her anger, knew without asking that all was not forgotten. Definitely not forgiven. She wasn’t sure she could manage civil, especially when her second-greatest urge right now was to punch him. She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned. “What are you doing in Sugar Creek?”

He slid his hands into the deep pockets of his black cargo pants and rocked back on the thick rubber soles. “Personal business.”

She thought about his background check on Chloe and smirked. “Regarding Dev?”

“Regarding my parents’ house. I’m thinking of selling.”

“Oh.” She should’ve been thrilled. Instead, she was shocked and more than a little sad. She’d known Jayce all her life. Even though they were at odds, she had a mental scrapbook of incredible childhood memories. He’d been like a brother until she’d hit her teens and then … She looked away, gathered her wits. She didn’t want him living in Sugar Creek, but she didn’t want him gone for good either.
Well, hell.

“Either way,” he went on, “renovations are in order. I’ll be in town a week or two. Need a place to stay. Dev suggested the Red Clover.”

That snapped her head back around. “What?” Was he
insane
? “Why not stay with Dev? He’s got two spare bedrooms.”

“It’s complicated.”

She frowned. Complicated because Jayce had investigated Chloe and once she learned he was a detective and that he and Dev were best friends she might somehow put two and two together? Beyond that, Rocky realized that if Jayce stayed at Dev’s it might cramp her brother’s style and jeopardize her matchmaking plans. Still … “There are several other inns and lodges in the area, Jayce.”

“Dev said you have plenty of room; plus you’re only fifteen minutes from my folks’ place.”

“You mean he said I could use the business. Or is it that he wants you to help me fix up the place? He said he had some ideas.” She spun off and paced the length of the Jeep. “He’s determined to take control. As if I’m incapable.”

“I just need a place to sleep, Rocky.”

And she needed Jayce in her home like she needed a hole in the head. At the same time … maybe she could work this to her advantage. “Fine. Just … don’t offer any help or advice or try to make nice. Oh, and keep out of my way.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah. See if you can get the Jeep running.”

His mouth quirked. “Sure, Dash.”

“And don’t call me Dash!” she ordered as he inspected the engine. The childhood nickname conjured better times. Before their blowout. If Jayce was going to be living under her roof, sleeping a mere few rooms away, she needed to nurture resentment in order to combat desire. Nerves taut, she reached through the open window, snagged her cell from the passenger seat, and called Adam. Logical, reliable, good-hearted, safe Adam.

“I’m with a client,” he answered. “Can I call you back in a half hour?”

“No need. I just wanted … I thought about it,” she said in a low voice. “The partner thing.” She massaged her chest, blew out a breath, and took the plunge. “I’m in.”

TWENTY

It was six in the evening before Daisy got home. A scenic country drive had turned into an all-day event. Chloe would have been frantic except she’d broken down and phoned the woman around 3:00 p.m. Daisy had assured her she was fine—although she didn’t sound like it—and that she’d be a while longer.

Three hours later …

“I’m glad you had a good time,” Chloe said as Daisy took off her wide-brimmed bonnet and hung it on the hat-filled coat tree.

“Vincent is excellent company.”

“He seems like a very nice man.”

She fluffed her silver curls. “He’s the best of friends.”

“Just friends?”

“We’ve known each other a long time.” Which wasn’t really an answer. Peeling off her rhinestone-studded denim jacket, Daisy plopped down on the living room’s floral sofa. “How was shopping?” she asked, turning the spotlight on Chloe.

“I got everything on your list. Almost.” She wasn’t about to bring up Big Al, and she wasn’t sure how much to share about the entire shopping fiasco. “Chris Bane had everything delivered. I put the packages in your room. I hope you like the outfits I put together.”

“I’m sure I will. Thanks, kitten.”

Normally, Daisy would’ve bounded up the stairs, eager to try on her new clothes. The fact that she remained on the sofa, head relaxed against a toss pillow, sneakered feet crossed at the ankles, concerned Chloe. Was Daisy still depressed? Even after spending the entire day with her “friend”?

“Did you run into Devlin?” she asked, after closing her eyes.

Chloe fidgeted. “You could say that.”

Daisy squinted her way.

“There was a misunderstanding. He intervened. I thanked him. We’re good. J.T.’s is a great store, by the way.”

“I’ve always thought so.” She smiled and allowed her lids to drift back shut.

Chloe frowned. “Would you like something to eat?”

“No, thank you. Vincent treated me to a chili dog and ice cream.”

Knowing her own reaction to such combinations, she cringed. “Would you like an antacid then?”

Daisy smiled. “No need.”

“A cocktail?”

“No, thank you.”

Maybe she should call Devlin. Something was definitely wrong.

“You know what I
would
like to do?”

“No, what?”

She pushed to her sneakered feet. “I’d like to take another crack at my secret recipe cupcakes. Would you like to help?”

“You bet!” Not that Chloe was eager to bake a dessert, but this was a sign that Daisy was bouncing back, albeit without her normal pep and vim. Maybe she was just worn out from the long day.

When Chloe was midway to the kitchen, her phone rang. “Shoot.”

“Go on and take it,” Daisy said. “I’ll assemble the ingredients.”

Chloe returned to the living room, dug her cell out of her purse, and stepped out on the back veranda. She’d been expecting a return call from her dad all day. They’d argued, just like she knew they would, after she told him about the breakup with Ryan. He’d followed up
I told you so
with
take my advice,
only she’d cut him off with
don’t tell me how to live my life.
Nothing had been resolved due to poor reception, then being confronted by a security guard. Chloe wasn’t keen on picking up where she and her dad had left off, but at the same time she felt sick about the wider rift. She took a deep breath of cool evening air. “Hello?”

“Hi, Chloe. It’s Nash.”

She blinked.

“I hope you don’t mind. I got your number from Rocky, who got it from Daisy in case of an emergency.”

“This is an emergency?” She dropped into a patio chair. “Did something happen to Monica?”

“No. No, sorry. Didn’t mean to alarm you. Actually this is a social call.”

“Thank God. I mean … how so?”

“You know I run a charter service. Well, I also freelance with a hot-air balloon tour company. There’s nothing like drifting along the Vermont skyline as a way of getting a feel of the land. Since you’re a Flatlander—”

“A what?”

“A newcomer from out-of-state. Local term. Sorry. Anyway, since I have some flight time racked up, I thought you might enjoy a personal tour.”

“In a hot-air balloon?”

“Ever been up in one?”

“Never.”

“Once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

She thought about the way Daisy had quizzed her during their picnic by the river. Had she ever done this or that? She remembered the wistfulness in Daisy’s tone and her excitement when they’d tubed. Her exuberance when she’d raced the convertible Caddy down the highway. If anything put a spark in Daisy’s eyes and a spring in her step, it was a thrill. “Let’s do it.”

“Great,” Nash said, sounding vaguely surprised. “What about Friday? Unless the weather forecasts changes, it’ll be a perfect day for skimming the clouds.”

Skimming the clouds.
Daisy would love it. “Friday’s great.”

“Perfect. Wear warm layers, a hat, sturdy shoes. I’ll pick you up around nine a.m.”

“See you then.”

“Looking forward to it.”

They disconnected and Chloe did a happy hop. If a ride in a hot-air balloon didn’t lift Daisy’s spirits—
ha!
—nothing would. Chloe would surprise her with the news Friday morning. She probably should’ve warned Nash that she was bringing along a guest, but he might’ve balked at the thought of taking up Daisy. Devlin wouldn’t like it. Actually, chances were good that the entire family, including Nash, wouldn’t like the idea of their grandma floating thousands of feet over the earth. But from what Chloe had heard, hot-air ballooning was perfectly safe when the balloon was operated by a licensed pilot, which Nash was.

Better to spring it on him. He’d have a hard time denying Daisy with her standing in front of him and raring to go. Thrilled with the opportunity to cheer her up, Chloe hurried back inside and into the kitchen.

“Everything okay?” Daisy asked as she arranged her mixing bowls and measuring spoons.

“Great.” Chloe took in the ingredients lined up on the kitchen counter. Everything they needed to make coconut cupcakes with Daisy’s special filling and frosting. The woman’s movements were slow but methodical, as if she was concentrating hard, determined to get it right this time. Suddenly Chloe itched to bake.
We’ll get it right.

Her own troubles faded far and away as she moved to the sink to wash her hands. She cursed under her breath when her cell phone sounded a second time.

“Might be important,” Daisy said when Chloe ignored it.

Sighing, she plucked the phone out of her sweater pocket, eyeing the nearest door in case it was her dad.

“Hiya, Chloe. It’s Luke.”

*   *   *

“What are you doing here?”

Dev raised a brow at his brother as he slid onto a bar stool. “What kind of welcome is that?”

“It’s just when you called earlier I told you tonight wasn’t a good night for a business meeting.”

“I’m not here to talk business. I’m here for a drink.” He’d worked late, more juggling of investments, making notes regarding his meeting with the staff on Monday. Once home, he’d nuked a frozen dinner, picking at processed meat loaf and tasteless mashed potatoes while researching prostate cancer on the Internet. Mood darkening, he’d tossed the dinner and snagged a beer, trading his computer for television. Channel surfing led him to the Food Network, which made him think of Chloe. A beer and a half later, he realized he was lonely, depressed, and getting a buzz on alone.
That
was a low he never wanted to experience.

“Dewar’s?”

“Beck’s.”

Luke poured him a draft, served three more customers, then returned to top off his half-empty mug. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you think something’s wrong?”

“Nine o’clock on a weeknight. Sitting at the bar, slamming back suds. Even if it was
Saturday
night that would be unusual for you.”

“It’s been an unusual day.”

“Heard Jayce is in town. Surprised he’s not here with you.”

“He had other plans, plus he’s settling in.”

“At Rocky’s. I know. She called me a couple of hours ago, venting about her not-so-welcome guest.” He shook his head. “You know there’s bad blood between those two, Dev. What possessed you into pushing Jayce to stay with her?”

“Bad blood.” He sipped more beer. “Whatever happened, over a decade ago, they need to get over it. We’re family, dammit.”

“I’d tread lightly on this one.”