Fool for Love (42 page)

His sarcasm plunged the knife deeper. “I know it sounds crazy, but…” Reeling, Chloe planted her feet and crossed her arms. “What are you saying? That you think I proposed the idea out of the blue yesterday and talked Daisy into financing this venture lock, stock, and barrel?”

He shook his head, looked away, then back. “I don’t think it was calculated. I think you can’t help yourself. You get an idea in your head, an impulse, and you act on it without thought. Daisy adores you and shares your impulsive spirit. I can imagine her offering to back you—”

“She did.”

“And you didn’t refuse.”

“Not entirely. For your information, she brought up the idea first. Expressed interest in buying Gemma’s, and then when I said I’d had the same idea she suggested partnering up. I couldn’t imagine stepping on her dream in pursuit of mine. Partnering sounded like the perfect solution, and I don’t mean just because she has money and I don’t. Daisy brings a lot to the table, as do I, dammit.” Furious now, she jabbed an angry finger at him. “You are … I can’t believe you.… I had
no
intention of letting your grandma foot the bill. I asked my dad—”

“This from someone who was so adamant about doing everything on her own.”

“An ass. That’s what I started to say before. You are an infuriating, cynical
jackass.
” Just now all she could see was shades of the man who had initially thought the worst of her based solely on the fact that she was a stranger moving in with his grandmother. “I didn’t ask Dad for money. I asked if he’d consider cosigning because I knew I’d be unable to acquire a loan on my own.”

That shut Devlin up. For a minute anyway. He dropped his head as if retooling his thoughts, seeking composure. When he refocused, his expression had softened, but his attitude still sucked. “What do you know about operating a business, Chloe? Do you know how much time and effort is involved in getting a new business off the ground? Do you know how long it takes to turn a profit? How could you? You’ve never held a job for longer than six months and your schooling is all over the place, not that you ever followed through with any of your studies. Culinary school notwithstanding.”

She stared, shocked by his insensitivity. Stymied by his knowledge.

“Not to mention,” he plowed on, “if you open a café you’ll be in direct competition with the Sugar Shack.”

“No, we won’t,” she said, feeling coldcocked. “Two different animals.” She blinked. “How did you know about my education? And my work history? I never said…” She thought back on previous conversations. “You knew about my expunged police record, too. I assumed Sheriff Stone…” When Devlin broke eye contact, she sensed something else. Some other force.

Jayce.

“The friend who rarely visits Sugar Creek who just happened to arrive in town soon after me. A private detective based in New York.” Her chest and eyes burned with the realization. “You had me investigated.”

He at least had the decency to look embarrassed. “Considering the circumstances—”

She slapped his face.

Palm tingling, heart breaking, she spun away. “No wonder you thought the worst of me,” she said while searching for her purse. “You pried into my background, my life, and without knowing specifics, without knowing
me,
you formed an opinion.”

“Chloe—”

“Even after … our truce. After this past week … You said you believed in me, but you don’t. You implied you care, yet…”

“I do care, dammit.” He reached for her, but she stalked away, into the kitchen.

She nabbed the keys to Leo’s loaner.

“Where are you going?”

She didn’t answer, just plowed past him, toward the front door.

“You told me you’d changed,” he said, hot on her heels. “You implied you care, yet instead of working this through, you’re running away. If you walk out that door—”

The threat only accelerated her exit, the ultimatum hanging in the air as her heart imploded. Cursing her crappy judgment, for allowing herself to fall for Devlin when she absolutely knew they were a disastrous mix, she floored the borrowed two-door, destination unknown.

*   *   *

Devlin had suspected midway through the argument that he’d severely overreacted, but instead of stepping down he’d allowed his doubts and concerns to flow unchecked. No matter where the money was coming from, launching any new venture was a risk, and in spite of her culinary expertise and diverse background, Chloe had no experience with finance and business administration. In addition to the start-up costs and the day-to-day operations, there were legal and tax considerations.

He couldn’t imagine his grandma had thought about any of that. She was just high on an idea, another thrill-seeking adventure. Except this one could end up costing her upwards of fifty thousand dollars. When Vern had called saying Daisy had inquired about the complexities of sinking her savings into a trendy café, Devlin had been stunned. After speaking directly with Daisy, he’d seen red. Between Rocky’s flagging inn, Luke’s burgeoning payroll, J.T’s competition, and his stock loss, he was up to his eyeballs in financial unrest, and now
this
?

In a heartbeat, he’d reverted to his old self—protect the family at all costs—and because Jayce’s damned report was still fresh in his mind, Chloe had been in the direct line of fire. He’d thought the worst. And, as accused, he’d behaved like an ass. He gave her that. But then she’d tweaked his deepest misgivings by walking out. In the past, whenever things had gotten tough, she’d moved on. All he could think as she’d stalked to that car was if she didn’t have it in her to brazen out an ugly quarrel, to work out their differences face-to-face, what could he expect when they really hit a rough patch?

Pissed at the present situation and influenced by the wounds Janna had inflicted years before, he’d let Chloe go. Now he was sick with worry because she’d sped off in a fury. Unfocused, what if she got into another accident? He couldn’t even call her to talk her down, because she didn’t have a goddamn phone. Where had she run to? Monica? Her dad? Daisy? Rocky? Stalking toward his Escalade, he started making calls.

*   *   *

Chloe didn’t know where she was driving until she arrived.

Gemma’s Bakery.

She glanced at her watch. Nine twenty a.m. The Realtor and Chloe’s dad would be here any minute. She couldn’t think straight, so she put herself on automatic, checked her makeup, tempered her expression and left the car to wait in front of the store.

She couldn’t remember ever feeling this hurt, this
angry
. Even the crushing breakup with Ryan paled. The scariest part was that the anger wasn’t fully directed at Devlin. She was furious with herself. He was right. If she had truly changed, she would have stayed and ridden out that argument until they’d both cooled off and been able to talk reason. Instead, she’d let his angry words dent her newly won confidence. As if she didn’t have what it took to run her own café. She knew she had a lot to learn, but she was smart and capable and, dammit, driven. But instead of giving Devlin what for, she’d shown him her backside.

Just like with her dad. Rather than enduring their tattered relationship or fighting harder to save it, it had been easier to move to New York City. The same could be said of her breakup with Ryan—rather than facing, fighting, or enduring, it had been easier to escape to Sugar Creek.

When she’d stormed away from Devlin, her first thought had been to call Nash. When was the soonest he could fly her out to … Indiana? New York? But nothing clicked. Sugar Creek clicked. She looked up and down the main street of the picturesque town and beyond to the rolling mountains now fully vibrant with the bold colors of autumn. She breathed in the crisp, fresh air and felt at home. That she could feel so content and comfortable, so confident, in such a short time was astonishing, and yet deep down she believed some things were just meant to be.

She turned and peered through the plate-glass window, into the bakery formally known as Gemma’s. She envisioned the décor she had discussed with Daisy, imagined them bouncing between the kitchen and counter. Tourists and locals alike would flock to their unique café in search of snacks, java, delectable cupcakes, Internet access, and an old-fashioned sense of community.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, recognized her dad’s aftershave.

“Second thoughts?” he asked softly.

“Yes.”

FORTY

Devlin had always considered himself the good guy. Always doing the right thing, or at least making a grand attempt. Although he knew his family often cursed his meddling, they knew his intentions were pure.

By midday Wednesday he was certain most of them, including and perhaps foremost his sister, Rocky, and Chloe’s friend Monica were having serious problems with his sensitivity chip. Being the in-your-face caring people they were, no one, including Nash and Sam and especially Luke, would accept Devlin’s concerns about Chloe’s safety and whereabouts without details. Which universally led to,
You accused her of taking advantage of Daisy?
As if it was the most repulsive assumption he could make. Never mind that it was.

Through the grapevine he’d learned Chloe was okay. She’d met with her father; she’d visited Daisy at the hospital; she’d touched base with Monica and Rocky. Unfortunately, she’d yet to call him, even though he’d spread the word that he needed to speak with her. Obviously she wasn’t talking to him, and no one else would divulge her present mind-set or future plans. If he heard
It’s not for me to say
one more time, he’d explode.

Desperate for distraction, he’d buried himself in work at J.T.’s. Finally, at 4:00 p.m., he got the call he’d been waiting for all day.

“We need to talk, Devlin.”

“The sooner, the better.”

“Meet me at Grenville’s Overlook,” she said.

“The covered bridge?”

“I’ll be waiting.”

*   *   *

Confrontation had never been her strong point, but over the course of the day Chloe had determined her new life, her happiness, was worth fighting for. Whether or not that pretty picture included Devlin remained to be seen, but she had every hope. She’d known from the beginning that he was controlling by nature and quick to attack when it came to protecting his family. Intimidating, infuriating, and, when angered, irrational. Some hefty faults. But she’d also learned that his admirable qualities—sense of humor, generous soul, kind heart—by far overshadowed his darker sensibilities. He was a complex man. Then again, she wasn’t exactly a piece of cake. Maybe Monica had been right all along. Maybe they could balance each other out.

When he joined her on the bridge, her senses simultaneously rejoiced and panicked. Even though they’d parted on angry terms, her first impulse was to throw herself into his arms. The love she felt for this man was fierce and deep and filled her with an overwhelming sense of wonder. In spite of their many differences, in spite of their short association, in her heart of hearts she felt they were destined to be together … forever. Tempering her reckless optimism proved a challenge, but she dug deep, breathed deep. Even though she ached to rush blindly and blissfully forward with their relationship, she played it cool.

Take it slow
.

“I’m sorry I pulled you away from work,” she said as he moved in beside her.

“I’m not.”

She smiled a little. “I’m sorry about this morning. I should have … Old habits die hard.”

“No one knows that better than I, Chloe. I did you a disservice by comparing you to someone in my past.”

Instead of being coy, she seized the chance to yank at least one skeleton out of the closet. “Your wife?”

“You know about Janna?”

“Not really. Just that she … was.”

He leaned against the old wood railing and looked out over the sparkling river, swollen from the previous rains. “She was a free spirit, for lack of a better term. My first love. Young love, teenage lust, immature emotions—a powerful mix.”

Rocky and Jayce came to mind—another skeleton—but Chloe held silent. Not her secret to out.

“We dated on and off for two years during high school,” he went on. “I think, no, I know my feelings ran deeper than hers. Regardless, I was there whenever she wanted or needed me. I can’t tell you how many times I bailed her out of a bad situation.”

“Sort of like me.” She indicated the river, thought about the reckless-driving arrest, the shoplifting incident, the car accident on Thrush.

“Yes and no.” He met her gaze, smoothed windblown hair from her face. “The difference is, she manipulated me, used me. You wouldn’t even let me confront Billy Burke or Tasha on your behalf.”

Chloe furrowed her brow. “Are you saying Janna manipulated you into marriage?”

His expression clouded. “Just after I graduated from high school, just before I went off for college, Janna informed me she was pregnant. Her parents had disowned her and she was earning minimal money selling her handmade jewelry at one of the local shops. She was an emotional and financial wreck.”

“The baby was yours?”

“So she said. Definite possibility.”

“So you felt responsible, for the baby, for her. You offered marriage, sanctuary.”

“Janna wasn’t built to be a single mother and I’d nixed the alternatives. Regardless of what my family may think or say, I wasn’t fooled into believing she married me because she loved me. I didn’t care. I loved her. And I loved that baby. But then five months into the pregnancy, she miscarried and everything changed.”

Chloe reached over and squeezed his hand. She didn’t have to ask to know he’d been crushed by the loss of that baby—whether he was the biological father or not.

“Instead of overcoming the loss and moving on with me, Janna left me, and the life she never wanted, for a new life on the West Coast.”

Chloe fidgeted, thinking about her own inclinations to run.

“Logically, I know it was for the best. Our relationship was dysfunctional to say the least. But I’ve never gotten over how
easy
it was for her to walk away.” He turned now and faced Chloe full on, his heart in his eyes. “The hardest part about falling in love with you, Chloe, was accepting your free spirit.”