Fool for Love (7 page)

“Didn’t you live in New York? On TV people who drive in big cities are fearless.”

“That or insane.”

“Overly cautious people cause more accidents, you know. Punch it, Scaredy-Cat. I’d like to have lunch before it’s time for dinner. I’m starving.”

Chloe’s stomach grumbled in agreement. Last night, she’d lost her appetite after Devlin had crashed her party for two. This morning, she’d been too nervous about her new job to eat anything other than a piece of dry toast. She was starving, too. After raiding Daisy’s refrigerator, Chloe had quickly prepared roast-beef sandwiches and spiced up a fresh but bland batch of pre-made potato salad. The food was stashed in the picnic basket on the backseat along with a bottle of chardonnay and two bottles of water.

Eager to reach their destination, Chloe accelerated, pushing the speedometer to 40 mph.

“Regular daredevil,” Daisy said.

*   *   *

Thirty minutes and a picnic lunch later, the two women were sprawled on a thick blanket, staring up through the rustling treetops at the cloudless sky. It was a beautiful day. Unseasonably warm for mid-September, according to Daisy. Chloe toed off her flats and wiggled her toes. If she rolled up her chinos, she could walk along the shallow portions of Sugar Creek—which was more like a river. That would certainly cool her off and help to digest the food she’d wolfed down.

She turned to ask Daisy if she’d like to take a walk and noticed she’d fallen asleep. Not surprising considering the heat and how much they’d eaten. Plus Daisy had polished off two plastic tumblers of wine.

Knowing she had to drive them back in the monster Caddy, Chloe had stuck to water. Smiling to herself, she pushed up onto her elbows, absorbing the woodland surroundings and enjoying the silence. Daisy had talked all through lunch, asking Chloe about her life in NYC. She’d been especially keen to learn about Chloe’s social activities.

Have you been to the top of the Empire State Building? Ever danced the night away in one of those famous discos? Taken a hansom cab ride through Central Park? Indulged in a speedboat ride on the Hudson River? At night?

Chloe had done all of those things, except the nocturnal speed demon ride on the Hudson. Given her moderate swimming skills and a terrifying childhood incident, she’d never been fond of water sports. To which Daisy had said,
If you live life ruled by your fears, you’re not really living.

Chloe had never considered herself cautious. If she wanted something, she went for it. Mostly. Although, if she was honest, these past two years she’d been so focused on “growing up,” committing to a relationship and domestic tranquility, in addition to studying her butt off at the Culinary Arts Institute, she had, sort of, temporarily (she hoped) forgotten how to have fun.

“So what’d you put in my potato salad?” Daisy asked. “Had more zing than usual.”

Chloe started. “I thought you were napping.”

“Naps are for babies and old people.” She sat up and stretched her arms over her head, yawned. “Thought I tasted dill.”

“Fresh dill.”

“And?”

“Ground cumin and chopped red onions,” Chloe said. “Normally I would’ve added chipotle peppers, but you didn’t have any in the fridge and besides, it might have been too spicy for you.”

“Never know unless you try. Next time add the peppers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The older woman slid her sunglasses to the end of her nose and nailed Chloe with narrowed eyes. “If this, us, is going to work, you have to call me Daisy. I only hired you to get my grandchildren off my back. I’d prefer to do my own cooking and driving. I’m not an invalid, but I am…” She looked away as if embarrassed.

“Lonely?” Chloe asked while snagging her water bottle.

Daisy snorted. “With a big family like mine? Someone’s always popping over or inviting me to some or another shindig. I’ve got commitments and engagements coming out of my skinny patooty. What I yearn for is adventure. I want to make the most of what time I’ve got left. I want a fuck buddy.”

Chloe choked on a mouthful of water.

“Someone who’ll say
‘screw you’
to convention. Someone who’s not afraid to take chances and embrace opportunities. After talking to Monica, I just knew you were the one. Passionate. Fearless. Was I wrong?”

Daisy was referring to the old Chloe Madison, pre-Ryan Levine. She felt a stab of regret, nostalgia,
something.
“I’m not sure I’d call myself fearless, but I’ve taken a lot of chances in my life. Followed my heart. My passions.”

“Exciting.”

“Risky.”

“But exciting.”

Again she felt conflicted between her old life and the life she’d created with Ryan. She hadn’t hated the person she’d become because of him, but she’d definitely felt restless. She’d waited her whole life for something to click, to feel like,
This is who I am
and
what I’m meant to do. This is the life I was meant for.

She was still waiting for that click.

“About your FB reference.” It’s not like Chloe had never said the
f
word, but she couldn’t say it in the presence of, well, someone’s grandma. “It doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“What does it mean?”

“I’m not comfortable saying.”

“Are you a prude, Chloe Madison?”

“No. Just respectful.”

Daisy sighed. “I’d hoped for fun.”

“I can be fun.”

“Prove it.”

“How?”

“Let’s go tubing.”

“What?”

“Inner tubing. Perfect day for it.”

Chloe turned a wary eye to the rippling water. “Isn’t that more of a summer sport?”

“It’s not officially fall.”

“But—”

“Think outside of the seasonal box, kitten.” She sprang up and corked her wine bottle. “Bert Hawkins owns a year-round recreation shop ten minutes from here. We can rent a couple of tubes and float down the river. Oh, don’t look so panicked. Sugar Creek’s not that deep or wide and you said you can swim. Not that you’ll have to. Just keep your butt in the hole, dangle your legs over the side, and let the current do the work.”

Chloe scrambled to her bare feet when Daisy tugged at the blanket. Her heart pounded as a dozen awful scenarios exploded in her brain. “I really don’t think … We just ate. You’re supposed to wait an hour—”

“Old wives’ tale. And besides, we’re not going for a swim. We’re going for a float.” Picnic basket over one arm, the blanket over the other, Daisy hotfooted it toward the Caddy.

Chloe pulled on her shoes and hurried to catch up. “You’ve been drinking,” she blurted.

“What are you? My FB or my mother?”

“I’m your companion and I’m concerned. What if you fall off?”

“Then I’ll climb back on or grab hold and scissor kick my way to shore.”

“Tube a lot, do you?”

“Used to. When I was a kid.”

Great.
“Once we float downriver, how will we get back to the car?”

“I’ll tell Bert to have someone pick us up.”

Chloe felt like she was talking to a stone wall. Talk about stubborn. She took the basket and blanket from Daisy and placed them in the backseat. “We don’t have bathing suits.”

“We’ll improvise.”

Chloe racked her brain for another argument, something other than,
I’m afraid you’ll fall in and drown.
“Only if you wear a life jacket.”

“Only kids and old people wear life jackets.” Daisy braced her hands on her bony hips and raised those penciled brows. “Scaredy-cat.”

The taunt sizzled and burned. Did everyone have an opinion on her character? She was either too reckless or too cautious. Didn’t anyone think she was just right? Unreasonably ticked, Chloe wrenched open the heavy-ass driver’s door. “Get in and buckle up.”

SEVEN

Devlin stood in the middle of his grandmother’s living room cursing himself for not acquiring Chloe’s cell number. Prodded by his sister, he’d come to smooth things over. Only Chloe wasn’t here and neither was Gram. The Caddy was also missing. He glanced at the blue Samsonite sitting next to the front door. Assumedly Chloe’s. What had been so urgent that Gram hadn’t even allowed her new companion to unpack?

His phone rang. He didn’t recognize the number. “Devlin Monroe.”

“Hey, Dev. It’s Bert Hawkins. Sorry to bother. Called J.T.’s and was told to call you at this number, seeing this is about your grandma.”

“Go on.”

“I tried talking her out of tubing, but she was adamant.”

“Tubing? As in tubing down the
river
?” He flashed on the days when he and Luke would tether their inner tubes to a small watercraft, usually piloted by one of their uncles or sometimes one of Bert’s summer crew. They’d shared many a wild ride, bouncing in the wake of the boat, sometimes going airborne. Sometimes wiping out. Heart pounding, Devlin blew out of the house. “What the hell, Bert? Don’t you have restrictions?”

“Sure. Age six and up and must weigh at least fifty pounds. I had no legal ground to refuse her, but Daisy’s had a lot of mishaps lately and, frankly, I’m not comfortable with this responsibility.”

Devlin’s blood pressure spiked as he sped out of town toward the river. “Tell me she’s wearing a life jacket.”

“Them’s the rules.”

That didn’t mean Daisy wouldn’t pitch the jacket once she was out of Bert’s sight. “You’ve probably heard Gram has a new and aggravating habit of breaking the rules.”

“That’s why I’m calling.”

“Did her companion at least try to talk her out of this stunt?”

“Miss Madison? Barely said a word, except to argue over swimwear.”

Chloe in a bikini. An image Devlin could’ve done without. He floored the Escalade and glanced at his watch. “When did they leave?”

“Fifteen minutes ago, give or take.”

If he hurried he could head them off at Grenville’s Overlook. “What took you so long to call?”

“Daisy threatened to make my life miserable if I alerted any of her kin, but after careful consideration, I decided I’d rather risk her wrath than yours. Oh, and one more thing, Dev. Your grandma’s tubing in her skivvies.”

Fan-fucking-tastic.

He didn’t ask about Chloe. All the same, the vision of her in a lacy pink bra and matching panties exploded in his brain. By the time he neared Grenville’s he had a hard-on and a short fuse. A dangerous combination. He parked the Escalade and speed-dialed Rocky as he stepped onto the historic covered bridge and looked upriver. “You want me to be nice to Gram’s new companion? Then you better talk me down.”

*   *   *

Chloe couldn’t believe she’d let Betty White goad her into doing something against her better judgment. Granted, Sugar Creek wasn’t all that wide, and as far as she could see there was nothing but flat water ahead. But that didn’t mean something awful couldn’t happen. Like someone spotting them in their impromptu bathing suits. Or getting sucked in and pulled under by unexpected crosscurrents or a powerful whirlpool. Sure, the latter was far-fetched, especially since, according to Bert, entire families free-floated down this section at the height of the season. But it was possible. Anything was possible.

“Relax.”

Chloe glanced at her employer. Since her skinny patooty was wedged in the donut hole of the inner tube, no one could see her nude knee-length girdle. Her Playtex bra was also hidden thanks to the three-buckle nylon life vest. Her bony arms and legs dangled over the side of the tube, and her creamy white, softly wrinkled face was tilted to the sun. She looked blissfully peaceful. Happy.

Chloe couldn’t help herself. She smiled. “Your family’s going to kill me when they hear about this.” She was talking specifically about Devlin but didn’t want to bring up his name.

“No, they won’t. I won’t let them. Now relax and enjoy the ride.”

Chloe sighed and settled deep into the tube. Since she wasn’t wearing a body shaper and had refused to strip to her thong, she’d talked Bert into loaning her a pair of swim trunks. Never mind that they were men’s trunks and three sizes too big. Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been a Speedo. She’d also refused to float down Sugar Creek in her bra, but then Daisy had called her a prude and Bert had shown her the life vest that would conceal her entire upper body.
What the hell?
Anything to appease her new boss on her first official day. She’d done crazier things.

“Been a long time since I floated down Sugar Creek,” Daisy said. “Used to come here all the time with my brothers and sisters. Sometimes we’d swim, sometimes we’d paddle in a rowboat, and sometimes, when we snuck away from our parents, we’d jump off Grenville’s Overlook cannonball-style.”

Charmed by the story, Chloe allowed her fingers to trail in the rippling water and closed her eyes, basking in the warmth of the sun. “What’s Grenville’s Overlook?”

“An old covered bridge. Overlooks the river. We’ll be passing under shortly. Years later,” she went on, “I brought my own children here. Jessup—that’s my husband, rest his soul—didn’t want me parading around in a bathing suit when he wasn’t with us, and since he was always busy at the store I settled on allowing the kids to join their cousins and uncles and I’d wait with my sisters at Willow Bend, gossiping and preparing for a family picnic.”

“That must have been fun,” Chloe said, sensitive to the wistfulness in the other woman’s voice. “Hanging out with your sisters.” As an only child, Chloe had always been envious of people with sibling relationships. The good ones anyway.

“Not as much fun as tubing or boating. Time raced by and before I knew it I was watching my grandkids’ water shenanigans. They enjoyed tubing, too, although they preferred getting towed behind a motorboat. More of a thrill.” She snickered. “Little daredevils. I remember the first time I caught Devlin and Luke jumping off Grenville’s. My heart stopped. But then they broke the surface, laughing and hooting, and I remembered how it felt throwing caution to the wind.”

Chloe remembered, too. She flashed back on all the chances she’d taken over the years. The thrill of the unknown. The rush of flying by the seat of her pants. Going for it. Sometimes she failed. Sometimes she soared.