Where the Road Takes Me (12 page)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Blake

I knocked on Chloe’s door. Mary answered and tried to contain her smile. “Blake, what are you doing here?”

All of a sudden, I panicked. It had seemed like the greatest idea in the world when I had thought of it. Now, though, I kind of felt like an ass. “I’m here to clean up your backyard.”

“What?” She let out a disbelieving laugh, just as the street filled with cars. The sound of doors opening and closing and the familiar ruckus of a group of teenage boys filled the otherwise quiet neighborhood.

I shoved my hands in my pockets and shrugged. “Well, me and the rest of my team . . . and the JV team.”

Her eyes widened as they all started to walk up her driveway. “What kind of teenage boy wants to spend his Sunday weeding a neglected yard?”

“A teenage boy whose coach ordered them to. Plus, it’s for extra credit.” I waited for her to give me the go-ahead, but she didn’t. Suddenly, I was nervous as fuck. Maybe I’d overstepped my boundaries. “I just thought the kids would like to have some extra space to play . . . It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

I turned to leave but she gripped my shirt. “No way,” she said. “You don’t get out of it that easy. Come in!”

My eyes kept wondering around, looking for any sign of Chloe. I didn’t want to ask Mary, because I wanted her to believe I wasn’t there for Chloe. My reasons for being there were genuine, but that didn’t mean that seeing her wouldn’t have been a bonus. We still worked together, but it hadn’t been the same since that night in her room. I still had no idea what had really happened, but I didn’t want to push it. I was more than happy with a little Chloe rather than no Chloe at all.

The boys and I worked in the yard for an hour before the sun started baking us. I’d sent out a few of the guys to get some drinks and ice and coolers, but I was dying. I didn’t want to disturb the family too much, so I quietly walked in through the back door to get a drink. Mary was already there, making a pitcher of iced tea. She smiled when she saw me. “Wash up. I’ll pour you a fresh glass.”

“You’re my hero,” I joked, looking around again.

“She’s up in her room. Hasn’t been down yet.”

I nodded; I was a little worried about her reaction to me being there.

Mary handed me the cold iced tea just as I turned the tap off. She gazed out the window and watched the rest of the guys at work. “Dean will be so happy when he gets home.”

“Yeah? He’s not gonna be mad?”

“Why would he be mad?”

I turned so my back was against the counter. “I just don’t want him to think that I’m doing his job or something.”

“Honey, Dean has a job. He works six days a week and provides for our family. So what if we don’t have the nicest house on the street?” She shrugged. “So what if he doesn’t spend his time away from that job weeding the yard? I could get a job. I’ve offered, but he doesn’t want me to. He says that being a mom, taking care of our family, that’s more than enough work. And when he has any spare time, he spends it with Chloe and the kids. It’s important to
him
that we do everything we can so that the kids know we’re here for them.” She took the glass from my hand, refilled it, and handed it back. “So no, Blake. He won’t be offended. He’ll be enormously thankful.”

“Good. Because I wanted to put this in the yard when it’s done . . .” I reached into my pocket and pulled out the page I had ripped out of the Toys “R” Us catalog. But before I could show her, Chloe walked in.

“Who the hell are all those guys in—” She froze midstep.

My eyes nearly fell out of my head.

She was wearing a white bikini top. Tiny shorts. Nothing else. She was even hotter than my imagination had given her credit for. She was tanned, which surprised me, because she didn’t seem to be the type to be out there working on her tan—or whatever the hell it was chicks did.

“What are you doing here?”

She had a mole on her right breast. It was tiny. Right above where the bikini covered. Then her arms blocked the view.

My eyes snapped to hers. I was staring at her tits.
Holy shit.

Her face flushed red as she clamped her mouth shut, trying to hide her smile.

I cleared my throat. “Um.” That was all I could get out.

“He’s clearing the yard for us,” Mary answered for me.

“You and whose army?” she asked, smiling openly now.

Mary giggled. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me.”

I never took my eyes off Chloe. She watched Mary leave the room before stepping closer to me.

“Blake?”

“Uh?”

“I didn’t know you were coming today, I made plans with Clayton.”

I couldn’t stop staring at her breasts.

“Blake!”

My eyes snapped to hers, and I shook my head, clearing the thoughts that were running wild in my mind. And then I laughed, because I didn’t know what else to do. She was driving me
insane.
“It’s okay,” I told her. “You’d just be a distraction anyway. Go. Leave.”

She chuckled and walked away.

I stared at her ass.

“Holy shit,” I mumbled.

“Blake,” Mary said, walking back into the kitchen. “That’s kind of my daughter you’re drooling over.”

I wiped my mouth. My cheeks burned. “Sorry.”

She laughed.

I was glad she found it funny. My dick sure as shit didn’t.

Chloe

“I don’t think this is it, Chloe.”

I looked down at the picture in my hand. Mom and Aunt Tilly as teenagers, hanging out with their friends by a lake . . . or a river. The picture had faded and creased over the years, so it was hard to make out. “Yeah, I don’t think it is, either.” I tried to hide the sadness in my voice, but Clayton could always tell.

“I’m sorry,” he said, walking up the rocky embankment toward me. He pulled me to him and wrapped his arms around me.

“It’s okay,” I hugged him back and spoke into his chest. “I’ll just keep searching. We’ll find it next time.”

He squeezed me tighter. “You bring any food? I’m starving.”

“Mary called.”

I quirked an eyebrow.

That made him laugh, but only for a moment, before he sighed and set his sandwich on the rug we were sitting on. “You know I’ve never been one to give you advice or judge you or try to make you think that what you’re feeling is wrong.”

He was right, which meant that whatever he was about to say held a certain significance. I watched as his eyes roamed my face, searching for something that probably wasn’t there. Clayton had been through a lot in his life. His eyes—to me—always held a familiarity to them. A sense of home, if ever I had one. Despite how much he’d grown up the past few years, his eyes always reminded me of the kid who I was first introduced to.

I dropped my sandwich, faced the river, and brought my knees up to my chest. “Out with it,” I told him

“I just worry about you, Chloe.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I know you’re rolling your eyes.”

I turned to glare at him.

“You think I need to see you to know what you’re doing? That’s ass, and you know it.”

“Whatever.”

“All I’m saying is that I worry. I worry that you’re not getting the best out of your life.”

I went to interrupt, but he raised his hand to stop me.

“Just let me speak, please?”

I nodded but kept my eyes on the glistening water.

“I get why you do what you do . . . why you shut yourself off from the rest of the world and the people around you. But I’m scared for you. I’m scared that maybe you’ll do it, and it will all be for nothing. Maybe you’ll live to be a hundred.”

“There’s a fifty-fifty chance I carry that gene, Clay.”

“I know that. And
you
know that I know that. But that’s a fifty percent chance you don’t carry it, Chloe. And even if you do—it doesn’t necessarily mean cancer, and it might not get you as young as it got them. It might come a lot later in your life. It might not happen at all. Don’t you think that means something? That
has
to mean something. And the fact that you refuse to get checked . . . I mean . . . things have advanced since your mom—”

“What’s your point?” I didn’t want to hear what he had to say. I’d heard it all before. From Mary, from Dean, from the counselors they’d made me see when I was eleven.

He sighed heavily and moved closer so our sides were touching. “I’m just saying that maybe you’re missing out. Maybe if you open your eyes a little you’ll see that it’s not all bad. Maybe it’s okay to let someone in. To let them understand you. Maybe Blake—”

My breath caught.

He didn’t let it stop him from continuing. “I don’t know Blake, but neither do you. It’s just—from what I can see—he cares about you. More than you probably know. And I don’t know what’s happening between you two, but he’s trying. I know he’s the first guy—or person really—that you let in, even just for a little bit. But maybe you should try . . . Just
try.
”

The lump in my throat ached as much as the pain in my chest. I wanted him to stop talking.

He threw an arm around my shoulders and pulled me to him. “I dunno, Chloe. You had a mom who loved you. An aunt who took you in. Foster parents and siblings who adore you. You have a guy interested in getting to know you. If you take all that in, and the life that you’ve built for yourself, maybe it’s worth it. Maybe it’s worth that fifty percent chance at
living
.”

I released the sob I’d been trying so hard to contain and dropped my head into my hands. And I cried. I cried for my mom. My aunt. And I cried for Clayton—because he’d never had any of those things.

“I love you, Chloe. I’m so glad and so honored to know you. To be a part of your life. My point is that maybe others deserve that chance, too.”

Wiping my tears on his shirt, I whispered, “I can’t, Clay.” I looked up at him. “What would you do if you were me . . . if you thought your time was limited? Would you purposely hurt the people you cared about?”

He shook his head slowly, his eyes penetrating mine. “No, Chloe, that’s the absolute last thing I’d ever want.” He kissed my forehead. “But I’m glad we had this talk.”

I sniffed and nodded into his chest. “Me, too.”

By the time Clayton pulled onto my street, it was early evening. Boys were walking down the driveway and into waiting cars. Some were loading mowers onto the beds of trucks. There had to be more than twenty of them.

“You coming in for a bit?”

Clayton nodded as he stepped out of his car. “I’ll just come in and say hi real quick.”

We walked to the end of the driveway and through the gate into the yard. I heard Dean’s voice before he came into my vision. “Holy shit, kid! This is amazing.”

I froze.

The entire yard had been cut back; the grass was short enough that you could actually walk on it. It’d been years since I’d seen it this clean. But that wasn’t what caught my attention. It was the giant play set that’d been built in the corner of the yard. I’d only ever seen such things at playgrounds.

Sammy stuck his head out the window of the upper level of the playhouse. “Chloe! Clayton! Come look!”

Blake and Dean quickly turned to us.

“It’s pretty great, huh, Chloe?” Dean said in awe.