Fool for Love (31 page)

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Authors: Beth Ciotta

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #General, #Contemporary

BOOK: Fool for Love
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“Tasha.”

“Ah.” Unfortunately, he knew
Mrs. Burke
better than he wanted to. “What did she do now?”

“I sent her an e-mail, asking if she’d heard about Daisy’s accident and inquiring about the possibility of postponing the photo shoot until the end of the week at least. I worded the e-mail in a pleasant way and was mindful to stroke her ego, closing with:
I’m sure the editor won’t mind a slight delay, since it involves a senior member.
And what response do I get to my thoughtfully worded half-page note? Three words:
No can do.
No salutation. No signature. Did she even think about it? Did she even try? How rude is that?”

“She has an agenda.”

“Well, screw
that.

“You’re cute when you’re riled.” Devlin quirked a half smile. “Especially on behalf of my family.”

“It’s just so wrong. Daisy’s in the hospital, for God’s sake. What’s a few more days? So what if she has a cast on her leg and a bandage on her forehead? There’s such a thing as creative posing and airbrushing. Daisy’s been a member of Cupcake Lovers longer than anyone else, even Ethel.”

“I know.”

“She deserves to be pictured in the recipe book.”

“I agree. But remember,” he said, seeking to lower her blood pressure, “this is just a proposal. A sampling.” He flashed back on all the info Tasha had shared that night. “There’ll be an additional shoot should the book go to contract.”

“It doesn’t matter. Daisy will be crushed. A major disappointment like that is the last thing she needs right now.”

He couldn’t argue with that. “Want me to call Tasha?”

“Yes. No. What did you ever see in her anyway?”

He raised a brow.

“Sorry. None of my business.”

“It’s okay. Well-known fact Tasha and I dated for a couple of months about a year ago. I was coming out of a bad relationship and she … made me feel good. For a while.”

“The sex got boring, huh?” Chloe asked with a teasing smile.

“Let’s just say, she was more interested in my money than me.”

She studied him for a moment, then sighed. “I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Tasha’s a shallow pinhead.”

He laughed at that, charmed that Chloe made light of a past affair, flattered that she didn’t ask about his bank account. “Regardless, she still thinks she can weasel her way back into my bed.”

“Even though she’s married?”

“Annoying. But it does give me a modicum of control. If I asked her to call off the shoot—”

“So that she can expect something from you in return? Uh, no. Besides, I don’t want you to fight my battles for me.”

“Like you didn’t want me to take on Deputy Burke in your defense.”

She frowned. “I sort of forgot about that incident.”

“I didn’t.” But he did keep his promise not to seek out Billy. That’s not to say he wouldn’t have a word in the future should the situation warrant. Devlin crossed his arms over his chest and studied the pretty woman sitting so close yet so far, her attention now riveted on her computer screen. “So why is that anyway?”

“Why is what?”

“Why don’t you want my help?”

“Because I need to do things for myself, on my own. First Dad managed my life, then Ryan. Not that I really fought them. Okay. I didn’t fight them at all,” she continued, eyes averted. “Thinking back, I guess I considered them my safety net while I blazed through life taking risks and chances and bouncing wherever my passion sent me.”

Because of Jayce he knew how many times she’d changed schools and careers. He’d attributed it to laziness or fickleness. The inability to finish what she started. Now he didn’t know what to think. He remembered something she’d said at the hospital. “Taking advantage of every opportunity because you never know when your number’s up.”

“Exactly.”

“Want to tell me why you relate to Daisy’s fear of death? Is it the water incident in Florida when you were a kid?”

“Daisy told you about that, huh?” She shook her head, then looked his way. “That only pertains specifically to the fear of drowning. My overall need to cram in as much life as possible is connected to my mom. She died when I was fourteen. She was only thirty-five. Hit by a drunken driver. She was shopping in town, standing at the curb, waiting to cross the street. The driver lost control and … One minute she was there, the next gone.”

“I’m sorry, hon.”

“Every time I think of her, I remember her dreams and interests, big and small, most of them unfulfilled. She put everything on the back burner, devoted her life to Dad and me. She’d always say, ‘I have plenty of time.’” Chloe frowned. “Only she didn’t.”

She turned back to her work, and Devlin assumed she’d shared all she wanted just now regarding her chosen lifestyle. Not that he needed her to elaborate. Coupled with the information supplied by Jayce, he now had a pretty clear take on Chloe Madison. The question was, would she finally settle down and commit to one passion? One career? One man?

That he was thinking in terms of long-term commitment was troubling. He’d known her less than a month, not that he’d fared well with women he’d known a long time. Still, unless Chloe licked her fear of death, along with Gram, he stood the chance of losing them both, albeit in different ways. A sobering thought.

“What are you up to?” he asked, intrigued by Chloe’s intense expression and flying fingers.

“Sending an e-mail to every member of the club, well, at least the ones with e-mails. Since it’s so late, I’ll have to call Ethel, Judy, and Helen in the morning.”

“About?”

“I’m rallying the troops. I figure if everyone bands together and refuses to participate in tomorrow’s photo shoot, Tasha will have to postpone.”

Devlin powered down his laptop. “Don’t underestimate Tasha’s influence.”

“They won’t abandon Daisy.” She glanced up as he set aside his laptop. “Are you finished?”

He was, in fact, as prepared for tomorrow’s meeting as he would ever be. He’d also checked over his investments and juggled a few finances while she’d been organizing and formatting the proposal. “It’s been a long day. Time to unwind. How about a bottle of wine and a movie?”

She looked up, smiled. “That sounds great. Just let me hit ‘send.’”

After the drama-filled day and the somber talk of her mom, he figured Chloe would welcome a chance to lighten the mood. He needed a breather himself. His head was jammed with family crises—Gram, his dad, Rocky—the employee meeting, and erotic thoughts about Chloe. “I don’t have much of a DVD collection, but check out that guide. Maybe there’s something of interest on cable or pay-per-view.”

“You should get Netflix.”

“I don’t watch a lot of movies.” Winding down was almost a foreign concept. By the time he returned from the kitchen with a bottle of red and two glasses, Chloe had packed up her work and was skimming the movie guide. He lowered the lights, then sat next to her and poured. “Find anything?”

“I did.” She smiled, pointed.

“Driving Miss Daisy.”
An old movie about an old woman and her chauffeur. He smiled. “I’d sort of hoped for a sexy thriller, but what the hell?” He handed her a glass of wine, proposed a toast. “To Gram’s speedy recovery.”

She clinked her glass to his. “To living in the moment.”

 

TWENTY-NINE

Chloe woke with a crick in her neck, a bad taste in her mouth, and a dozen worries grinding through her rusty brain. Daisy’s injuries, Rocky’s secret, Tasha’s obstinacy. The only nice thing was that she was cocooned in Devlin’s arms. Even though she was only half-awake, she was fully aware of his signature scent, his warm body. She registered the caress of his hand, the weight of his thigh. Morning wood pressing into her backside. Unfortunately, the more aware she became of the intimate spooning, the greater the nauseous pounding in her head.

“Rise and shine, beautiful,” he said close to her ear. “I’m late for work.”

It took a minute for his words to compute and for her bleary eyes to adjust. They were still in the living room, but the flat-screen television was dark and the braided rug dappled with daylight. “We fell asleep on the couch?”

“I don’t know who zonked out first, but I attribute it to the late hour and too much wine, not the company.”

She squinted at the empty bottle and palmed her aching head. “I never overindulge like that.”

“Easy to do with a good vintage on top of a stressful day.”

She’d yet to turn and meet his gaze. Even though there was no censure in his voice, she was mortified. The goal had been to unwind, but throughout the movie her brain had obsessed on the day’s crises and night’s potential. Falling in love had intensified her expectations. The more she’d obsessed on sex, the more she’d imbibed to calm her nerves. Well, she’d calmed herself all right. “I feel like an idiot.”

“How do you think I feel? Alone all night with a hot chick,” he teased, “and what do I do? Pass out.”

That coaxed a smile out of her. “Something tells me you were completely sober.”

His lips brushed her ear. “A gentleman never kisses and tells.”

“Very old-fashioned of you,” she teased back, but truly she was charmed. The dating scene had been less chivalrous in New York. Going to bed with a man while buzzed was the norm, and last night had, in a way, been a date. She remembered cuddling, affectionate caressing, and one very long, sensual kiss. He could’ve taken advantage. Instead, he’d been sensitive to her anxiety and compromised senses. She rolled into him then and met his hypnotic gaze. “I’m sorry I didn’t jump your bones. It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s just last night…”

“Wasn’t the night.” He smoothed her hair out of her face. “But it wasn’t a waste.”

She lost herself in those blueberry eyes. “You say the most romantic things.”

“Not by design, trust me. Not my style.”

“You’re not a player. I know. Which makes your actions and sentiments all the more appealing.” She realized then that he was staring at her mouth. As much as she wanted him to kiss her, all she could think was morning breath—hers, not his. Plus it felt as if someone were driving a spike through her brain. Literally.

“If I weren’t so rushed for time, I’d carry you up to my bed and make slow, hard love to you, Chloe.”

Whether it was due to the use of her name or the sexy timbre of his voice, despite her hangover she tingled in all the right places. “Rain check?”

He sealed the deal with a kiss that melted what was left of her brain cells, then peeled himself away looking rumpled and to-die-for sexy. “You could join me in the shower,” he said with a wicked grin.

“Maybe next time,” she said, feeling shy and queasy, not that she planned to admit either. “You’re late for work, remember? Big day. Important meeting.”

“I also want to check in with the hospital, check up on Gram and visiting hours.”

“I wish we could drive over right now,” Chloe said, “but I know she needs the rest.”

“Not sure how to handle her
issues.

“Maybe if you embraced her spirit for living rather than addressing her fear of death?”

“Accentuate the positive.”

“Something like that.”

“Would it help if I took that approach with you?”

She blinked, then realized she’d confessed her own unique fear of death last night. “I’m not sure.”

He reached down and tucked her hair behind her ears. “When you figure it out, let me know.”

Which meant he’d understood and accepted her need to fight her own battles. Her smitten heart thudded, rivaling the obnoxious pounding in her head.

His gaze lingered, a silent bid of respect and affection, before he finally broke away and headed for the stairs. “There’s a second bathroom down here if—”

“I remember. Thanks.” Her stomach flipped and turned, a combination of being wonderfully lovesick and horribly hungover.
Get a grip, Madison
. When he was gone, she dragged herself off the sofa, nabbed the small toiletry bag she kept in her purse, then hurried into the downstairs bathroom. She intentionally avoided the mirror, relieved herself, then washed her hands and face with ice-cold water and brushed her teeth. “Don’t puke. Don’t puke.” Last night she’d fretted over disappointing Devlin in bed. Now her biggest concern was resisting the urge to hurl into his toilet. Gulping air, she braced her hands and stared at her reflection. “
You
are pathetic.”

She was not, however, beaten. Even though she looked like death warmed over, he’d initiated a kiss that still hummed through her noodly body. She managed a cocky smile. “He likes you,” she told herself. “A lot.”

It wasn’t just sex. The tenderness in his gaze and touch suggested a deeper intimacy. Her heart swelled just thinking about the way he’d indulged her desire to sample various dishes off the take-out menu as well as her sentimental movie choice. The way they’d worked on individual projects side by side. His gentle expression when she’d opened up about her mom and her own reckless approach to life—something she hadn’t realized until meeting Daisy. Underneath Devlin’s controlling nature beat the heart of a sensitive soul. Last night they’d connected as friends. This morning as a couple.

She thought about him, standing in the shower, buck naked, steaming water sluicing over his toned muscles, and fought the overwhelming desire to join him. As much as she wanted to jump his bones, she didn’t want to interfere with his big day at work. Knowing the employee meeting weighed heavily on his mind and aware he was already running late, she dragged her sorry butt out of the bathroom and into his kitchen.

“The least I can do,” she told herself as she nabbed coffee and eggs from his fridge, “is send him off with a hearty meal.”

After breakfast she’d check for e-mails from the club members and somehow, someway tackle Tasha and the photo shoot dilemma. Suddenly Chloe understood why Daisy wanted her “in the field.” Daisy needed a champion. Someone to assure her place in the recipe book. In the same instant Chloe understood Devlin’s sometimes-overbearing determination to protect his family and his willingness to compromise rather than alienate. Family, no matter how big or small, was precious. Family was messy. In search of perfection, she’d abandoned her own blood. Instead of mending wounds and bridges, she’d run.

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