The Trouble With Love (28 page)

“So you moved back to Sugar Creek to conquer demons? Purge your soul?”

“And to be with you.”

She licked her lips, angled her head. “Wow. That’s…”

“Heavy? Scary?”

“Romantic. The last part, that is. As for the ugly stuff … I can’t imagine.”

“I don’t want you to.” He stroked his palm down her bare arm, interlocked his fingers with hers. “I don’t want the past tainting the future.”

She held his gaze, but he caught a flash of panic. “Okay.
That
was sort of heavy,” she said with a nervous laugh. “The future thing. Feeling a little overwhelmed here. Between openly
dating
you and the decorating opportunities coming my way…”

“How ’bout we approach the future one day at a time? Starting with today.” He squeezed her hand and smiled to lighten the mood. “Speaking of gifts, I bought you one, too.”

She blinked, then lit up like Times Square—a vibrant, kinetic force. “You did? Where is it?
What
is it?”

Jayce laughed. Her excitement over a present obliterated the last of his gloom. He’d have to remember that. Rocky liked gifts. He kissed her, relishing the taste of her tongue, the feel of her skin, then rolled out of bed with a teasing grin. “The faster we shower, the faster you’ll get your present.”

She practically knocked him over in her haste to get to the bathroom. He admired her wicked body and confident spirit, appreciated the fact that she hadn’t dredged up their fight from the night before or pushed for more details regarding his parents. He knew he’d piqued her interest, but she seemed to know when to back off. Maybe he’d been a little harsh in New York when he’d labeled her immature. Or maybe they’d reached a new level in their relationship. That thought, and the sight of Rocky soaping up in a frenzy, made Jayce smile.

*   *   *

Even though she’d grown up in a small town, up until recently Chloe had been living in New York City. Sugar Creek was a stark change from the thriving, congested, sometimes bombastic city. Heart full, she navigated sparse traffic, steering Daisy’s big-as-a-boat Caddy past quaint two- and three-story businesses, brick sidewalks, and Victorian-looking street lamps. Trees were abundant as well as expanses of verdant grass. Beyond the town’s limits, rolling mountains exploded with the last vivid colors of fall—red, yellow, orange. The autumn foliage was overwhelming in its beauty and a popular attraction for tourists. People came from miles away to witness the splendor, and a portion of those tourists would be mingling with locals this weekend, enjoying the town’s annual Halloween festival.

Smiling, Chloe imagined all four seasons and future adventures with Devlin and their child. Raking up, then jumping into heaps of colorful leaves, sledding down snow-covered hills, taking nature walks in the throes of spring, tubing down Sugar Creek—the river, not the town—in the height of summer. She considered the low crime rate and escalated sense of community. Even now the preparations for the Spookytown Spectacular—three days away—were evident. Honeysuckle Street, an offshoot of Main Street, had been stanchioned off. Chloe noted two of what were to be several carnival rides and smiled. Someday she and Devlin would be standing in line with their son or daughter eagerly choosing the specific horse for their spin on the merry-go-round.

Her future was not only bright but also optimistically, fantastically brilliant.

Nearing Moose-a-lotta, Chloe tried to focus on now, on business, but damn, it was hard.

She would’ve enjoyed nothing more than spending the day in bed with Devlin. In fact, he’d suggested just that, saying they should both play hooky. She was pretty sure Devlin Monroe had never called out sick a day in his life, and she’d bet her cherished Cuisinart mixer he’d never played hooky. Loving that he’d bend his work ethics in order to afford them a leisurely day to celebrate her pregnancy, Chloe had almost relented. But her obligations at Moose-a-lotta were too new and a burst of unexpected energy too welcome to ignore.

Jazzed on the aftershock of a lengthy, passionate,
see-you-later
kiss with Devlin, Chloe approached the café, smiling as she noted Vince Redding’s shiny blue four-door rolling curbside. Chloe pulled into a designated
Merchant
parking space and tried not to stare as the robust man walked Daisy to the café’s door and said his good-byes. What an odd-looking pair. From the moment Chloe had laid eyes on Daisy, she’d labeled the quirky woman a cross between Whoopi Goldberg and Betty White—although Daisy had recently dyed her white curls purple. Daisy had also given up the majority of her conservative Jackie O wardrobe in favor of bohemian clothing and blingy accessories. Vince, on the other hand, looked like the cliché of who he was—the seventy-some-year-old owner of a small-town general store, complete with baggy pants, plaid flannel shirt, and red suspenders.

The old-fashioned widower and the devil-may-care widow.

Chloe still wasn’t sure of the exact nature of their relationship. She’d never seen them kiss or cuddle, although affection shone in Vince’s old eyes every time he looked at or talked about Daisy. Unlike with Rocky and Jayce, Chloe knew Daisy and Vince had common interests and goals. They never fought, and talked about anything and everything, according to Daisy. Even their past relationships. They seemed like the perfect couple, although how perfect could it be if the romantic interest was one-sided? What if Daisy only saw Vince as an amiable companion and friend? Was she leading him on by moving into his home? With their being together 24/7, would Daisy start to feel smothered? Would Vince become disenchanted? All of a sudden Chloe understood Devlin’s reservation regarding this couple cohabitating, although she was more focused on the personal ramifications rather than the financial.

Chloe glanced at her reflection in the Caddy’s rearview mirror. “Mind your own business, Madison.”

Easier said than done
.

Even though the Monroes weren’t technically her family, she’d considered them family since soon after moving to Sugar Creek. The big, sloppy warm family she’d never had. She worried about each and every one of them, including Nash and Sam. She worried about Luke and Rocky but especially Daisy—a woman who indulged in every whim because life was short. Even shorter for a seventy-five-year-old woman with a heart condition.

Daisy waved good-bye as Vince drove off; then she whistled at Chloe.

Smiling, Chloe exited the refurbished Caddy, unlooping her scarf and welcoming the warmth of an unseasonably mild day.

“Shake a leg, kitten. Time to make the donuts.”

“You mean muffins,” Chloe said as she joined her friend and partner.

“Doesn’t have the same ring to it,” Daisy said while unlocking the door.

“I need to buy a car,” Chloe said while they entered and set about their morning rituals.

“You can’t afford a car.” Daisy placed her fringed shoulder bag behind the counter. “You put all your pennies into this business.”

Aside from draining her own meager bank account, Chloe had relied on her dad to co-sign for a loan, which had dented her pride but at the same time boosted their relationship. She refused to feel bad about something so good. “I know. But I feel like I’m monopolizing the Caddy.” A car she’d once wrecked and that, thanks to Monica’s whiz-mechanic husband, had been given an extended life. “What if you need it?”

Daisy raised a penciled brow as she shrugged out of her lime-green coat. “I’ve been barred from driving ever since the reckless-driving arrest. Remember? Besides, I don’t need the Caddy. I have Vincent.”

“But what if he’s unavailable and you need to get somewhere?”

“Then I’ll call you or one of my grandchildren or steal a set of wheels.”

Chloe blinked.

“Kidding about that last part,” Daisy said with a gleam in her eye.
“Maybe.”

She trotted to the kitchen, and Chloe followed. After seeing the woman hobbling around in that ankle cast for weeks, it was good to see her mobile again. Although it also meant Daisy was back in action, as in back to her reckless ways—like stealing someone’s wheels.

“You look different,” Daisy said while lining up their ingredients for the muffin-of-the-day.

Cheeks flushing, Chloe tied on an apron. “How so?” She wasn’t showing. Surely she wasn’t
glowing.
That was a cliché, right? Although since sharing her news with Dev, Chloe
felt
different. Lighter.
Excited.

“You’re smiling. What gives?”

Chloe mixed the muffin batter while Daisy attacked the topping. She considered her mood. She
was
happy. Devlin’s acceptance and enthusiasm had made all the difference in the world. “Can’t a person be happy for happy’s sake?”

“Sure, but you’ve been an Anxious Annie for days. Why the sudden turnaround?”

“Why the third degree?”

“Why the stone wall?”

She didn’t want to share her news until a doctor had confirmed the pregnancy. Certainly not until that video crew had left town. Unmarried and pregnant constituted scandal, right? As much as Chloe wanted to confide in Daisy—this would be her first great-grandchild!—Chloe didn’t trust the impetuous woman to keep her secret. “I confess I’ve been edgy lately. Between the book deal and issues with assorted family members, it’s a little overwhelming.”

“The Cupcake Lovers have survived several wars and decades,” Daisy said while melting a hunk of butter. “We’ll survive a book deal. Did I ever tell you about the time—” She waved off her words and nabbed a bag of fresh nuts. “Never mind. Long story. Regarding the family, we’ll prevail. We always do. Take my son, for instance.…”

Devlin’s dad. “What about him?”

Daisy chopped pecans with a little too much zeal. “Darn my loose lips. Forget I mentioned it, kitten.”

She couldn’t. She’d been on pins and needles for weeks wondering about the gloom that settled over Devlin every time he spoke with his father. Yes, they were at odds regarding store renovations. But there had to be more to it.

Chloe added an egg, vanilla extract, and her melted-chocolate mixture into a bowl while contemplating the best way to snoop. “I’m a little nervous about meeting your son and his wife. I want them to like me.”

“They’ll love you. We all love you.”

Chloe smiled at that. She did indeed feel cherished and appreciated by the Monroes. “Rocky said they might be flying up for Thanksgiving.”

“More like Christmas,” Daisy said. “What with the treatments—”

They stopped working and locked gazes.

Chloe felt the lemon-yellow walls of their pristine kitchen closing in as she noted the haunted look in the other woman’s eyes. “What wrong with Jerome, Daisy?”

The senior woman pursed her lips, blinked, then poured premeasured ingredients into her own bowl, forking the topping into coarse crumbs. “Let’s talk about what’s right. Early diagnosis and aggressive treatments. A determined streak and a supportive wife. He’s coming along and by Christmas, and the Grace of God, he’ll be fine.”

What could it be? Something serious, but not terminal.

By the Grace of God.

Chloe wanted to press for more details, but it seemed invasive. Heart pounding, she poured the chocolate batter into the paper-lined muffin cups. How long had Devlin been burdened with this knowledge? Why wasn’t the rest of the family aware? “No wonder Devlin’s been so preoccupied.”

“Exactly why my son kept his …
affliction
a secret. He didn’t want to worry family and friends. He didn’t want panic or pity. The only reason Devlin knows is because he pried it out of his mom. The only reason I know is because I pried it out of Devlin.” Daisy topped the batter with streusel pecan crumbles and sighed. “Jerome’s a proud man.”

Chloe squeezed the woman’s boney shoulder. “He sounds like a thoughtful and courageous man to me,” she said with a kind smile. “On second thought, I can’t wait to meet him.”

Daisy smiled back, and together they slid four muffin pans into the oven.

“My grandson’s trying to honor my son’s wishes by keeping the affliction under wraps. Don’t be angry that he didn’t confide in you, kitten. Trust me, keeping this secret hasn’t been easy. For my grandson or me.”

Secrets.
Chloe had never been privy to so many confidences in her life. Although when she thought about it, almost every secret involving a Monroe was based on the desire to save someone else stress or strife. Everyone’s secret was rooted in good intentions. Even the personal secret near and dear to Chloe’s heart. Yes, she preferred to have a doctor’s official confirmation. Yes, she harbored concerns regarding a safe pregnancy. But she was also worried about crushing Monica’s heart and perhaps damaging their friendship. On the other hand, sharing this particular news with Daisy would give the woman something positive to obsess on.

The suffocating walls receded as Chloe’s heart bloomed. Smiling a little, she grasped Daisy’s flour-covered hands and squeezed. “I have a secret, too.”

The woman’s penciled brows rose above the rhinestone-studded rims of her glasses. “Are you going to share?”

“I am.”

“Do I have to keep it quiet?”

“For a little while, yes.”

Grinning, Daisy leaned in and whispered, “Devlin asked you to marry him.”

“No. Not exactly. Not yet. But we are engaged in another joint venture.” Sensing Daisy’s excitement, Chloe pressed her friend’s palm to her belly. “I still need confirmation from the doctor, but, well, I’m pretty sure we’ve got a cupcake in the oven.”

Daisy squealed, then performed a comical happy dance. “Zip-a-dee-doo-dah! Strike up the band! Hot diggety dog!”

Chloe laughed.

Daisy jigged. “If anything will give my son more oomph to beat that bastard disease, this is it. A grandchild! But don’t worry,” she said, coming to a winded stop. “I won’t breathe a word until you say it’s okay.”

“At which time, feel free to shout the news from Grenville’s Overlook.” The covered bridge where Devlin had joined Chloe in a leap of faith and sealed their love. “We’ll be right there with you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

They would’ve been out of the house and on the road a half an hour sooner if they hadn’t fooled around in the shower, but Rocky had a hard time keeping her hands off of Jayce’s hot and hard body. Her fascination with the man had doubled when he’d opened up to her about his crappy childhood. What did it feel like to grow up knowing you weren’t wanted? How did a kid who’d been born to, not one, but
two
selfish and addicted parents turn out as compassionate and grounded as Jayce? With such an awful home life, no wonder he’d spent so much time at the Monroes’. Thank
God
he’d spent so much time at the Monroes’.