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  She let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “I’m thinking if we could at least wait until after the engagement party to start planning the wedding?”

  His chuckled, the sound low and lovely. “I just don’t get it. Why are you dragging your feet? We’ve been engaged for two whole days now.”

  She echoed his teasing tone. “People will start thinking we have trouble making commitments.”

  But then his expression turned serious. “Is it all going too fast for you?”

  “I didn’t say that.” She hated the edge of defensiveness in her tone.

  “Hey. I mean it. We can have a long engagement if you want it that way. It’s okay with me.”

  “But I don’t want a long engagement.” It came out as a whine. Dear God, what was the matter with her? Her emotions were bouncing all over the place. She made it worse by grumbling, “And I meant it about a small, simple wedding, too. I really did.”

  “Easy.” He bent close, nipped a kiss against her throat.

  “Sorry,” she murmured, honestly contrite, not really understanding herself at that moment.

  He nuzzled her cheek. “We got no problem here.”

  Oh, yes, we do. I’m the problem. My mother’s a hopeless bitch and I married a psychopath-in-training.

  Why would a great guy like Quinn, with everything going for him now, with a good life he’d worked so hard to earn, want to marry someone with her history and track record, anyway?

  People always used to treat her like some kind of prize. She was no prize. Not anymore, anyway. In her case, the bloom was seriously off the rose. Perfect Chloe Winchester? What a joke.

  And wait a minute.

  Really, she needed to snap out of it.

  Where had all these grim thoughts come from?

  It was dangerous to start running herself down. Half the battle for sanity and a good life was in keeping her spirits up, fostering a positive attitude.

  She’d worked hard to face the tough challenges life had thrown in her path. She’d survived the disaster of her own choice, her own making: her marriage to Ted. She’d fought and fought hard to get free, to make a new life. To hold her head up and move on.

  And she’d honestly begun to believe that she’d done it, that she’d put the past behind her.

  Until Ted sent her flowers and made her fear deep in her soul that she hadn’t seen the last of him, after all. Until her mother showed up on her doorstep spouting such ugliness and rage, revealing such an unforgiveable betrayal, that she’d had no choice but to sever ties with her.

  Maybe it wasn’t the wedding she was putting off. Maybe she’d had no right to tell Quinn that she’d marry him in the first place.

  Maybe she needed to face the fact that he deserved better than her.

  “Chloe?”

  “Um?”

  “We got no problem at all,” he said again, more softly, but more firmly, too.

  She met his eyes. They were so steady. So knowing and wise. She asked in a tiny, weak, disgusting little voice, “We don’t?”

  “Uh-uh. We got each other, Chloe. We got it all.”

  And somehow, when he looked at her like that, when he spoke with such affection and total confidence, she believed him.

  She absolutely believed him.

  I love you, Quinn. She thought the words and knew that they were true.

  If only she felt she had the right to say them out loud.

  Chapter Nine

  Clara called Saturday afternoon. The engagement party was on for two weeks from that day. Nell called an hour later to go over the guest list.

  Monday, the demo began at Quinn’s house.

  Chloe let Tai run things at the showroom. She put on old jeans and one of Quinn’s Prime Sports and Fitness T-shirts and helped Nell and her crew of burly guys bust out some walls. The one between the kitchen and dining area had to go down. And the one between a bonus room and Manny’s room needed knocking out, to give him a larger private area. Same thing with the master suite. They were combining it with the smaller bedroom next door. With all the extra space, they would enlarge the master bath and walk-in closet, too.

  The men went upstairs. Nell and Chloe took the kitchen. Chloe got right to work attacking that wall. After just one blow, Nell teased her that she was dangerous with a sledgehammer.

  Chloe raised the hammer again and sent it crashing through the Sheetrock, making a nice, big raggedy hole that showed light on the other side. “There’s something about a demo that makes the whole world seem brighter.”

  “Whack it down, baby!” Nell made her own big hole.

  Upstairs, they heard other hammers demolishing other walls.

  “Music to my ears,” said Chloe, and gave that wall another serious blow. It was very therapeutic, she decided, to get to beat a wall down.

  Since Friday, when she’d realized she wasn’t ready to set a wedding date and didn’t feel worthy to tell Quinn she loved him, she’d been feeling a little down.

  But wielding the hammer helped, made her feel useful and powerful, as though she was getting stuff done. Just what the doctor ordered, without a doubt.

  That evening she attended her first Self-Defense for Women class. She got some great tips on how to spot predators and avoid situations where she might be attacked. She almost raised her hand and asked what you did when someone you trusted hauled off and hit you.

  But really, she didn’t need to ask.

  She already knew the answer: you left and you never went back. You started again and rebuilt your life.

  And she was rebuilding, she reminded herself. Rebuilding in her hometown with a great guy and his sweet little girl. With more family than she’d ever had before, including cool, smart old Manny and a bunch of new sisters, Nell best of all.

  A week later, she presented her fairy princess ideas to Annabelle, whose eyes lit up so bright you would have thought Chloe had offered her the moon. “Chloe! I need to hug you.” And she reached out and threw her arms around Chloe’s legs.

  Laughing, Chloe grabbed her up. Annabelle wrapped her legs around Chloe’s waist and Chloe spun in a circle, both of them giggling.

  When Chloe finally let her go, Annabelle chose the design in lilac, hot pink and purple. The next day, Chloe visited her favorite fabric store and came out with plenty of satin, velvet, bridal tulle, organza, organdy and purple brocade. After the fabric store, she stopped in at the craft store, where she bought special paint and twelve-gauge wire to frame the wings. After lunch, in the studio behind her showroom, she started to work on the costume, taking a break before Tai went home to drive over to Quinn’s house down the hill from hers, where the electrician was busy rerouting some of the wiring and Nell’s crew was almost finished ripping out the old floors.

  She went home that evening feeling good about the remodeling, about Annabelle’s fairy princess dress, about pretty much everything. With so much to do and her soon-to-be new family around her, the dark mood brought on by Ted’s unwanted flowers and her mother’s betrayal had faded. Life seemed bright and full of promise once again.

  That Saturday was the engagement party at McKellan’s. Quinn hired a babysitter for Annabelle so that Manny could come with them to celebrate. Manny brought his girlfriend, Doris Remy, who was in her midseventies, a widow with fifteen grandchildren and five great-grandsons. Doris had an infectious laugh and loved to dance. She’d once been a Rockette at Radio City Music Hall and she remained slim and spry. McKellan’s upstairs party room had a small dance floor, and the Bravos had hired a DJ. Manny and Doris spent most of the evening out on that little square of floor.

  Quinn and Chloe danced, too. Chloe also danced with his brothers and with charming Ryan McKellan, who told her she looked happier than he’d ever seen her before. Ryan, like Clara and
Quinn, had been in the same grade as Chloe back in school.

  Ryan, whom they all called Rye, said, “You always seemed so serious and distant back then.”

  And she agreed. “Because I was. I had places to go and things to do. Enjoying myself was never on the agenda.”

  “All that’s changed now, though, huh?” Rye asked.

  They danced past Quinn, who stood at the upstairs bar with his brother Carter and Clara’s fiancé, Dalton Ames. Quinn glanced over as they passed, almost as though he could feel her eyes on him. They shared a smile and a nod and a lovely, sparkly feeling shimmered through her.

  And Rye said, “No need to answer. You look at Quinn and your face says it all.”

  Because I love him, she thought. But she didn’t say it. That wouldn’t be right, to tell Rye McKellan that she loved Quinn when she’d yet to tell the man himself.

  At a little after midnight, with the party in full swing, Quinn’s mother, Willow Mooney Bravo, arrived. Chloe, Quinn, Nell and some guy named Ned were sitting at a table not far from the stairs when Willow appeared, looking more beautiful than ever in a white silk blouse with a prim little collar and a black satin skirt, her short blond hair softly curling around her luminous face.

  She came straight for their table.

  Nell rose. “Mom.” Nell and her mother exchanged air kisses. “Big surprise. I thought you were in Miami.”

  Since her husband’s death, Willow traveled a lot. “And miss the party? Never.”

  Quinn got up and hugged her. She smiled at him so fondly, laying her hand against his cheek, staring up into his eyes. “Congratulations, honey.”

  “Thanks, Mom.”

  Chloe rose.

  Before she could say a word, Quinn’s mom said, “Chloe. So good to see you. You must call me Willow.” She took Chloe’s hand and laced their fingers together, as though the two of them were BFFs. “Tell you what. Let’s steal a few minutes alone and catch up a little.”

  Catch up? How could she catch up with someone she hardly knew? In her lifetime prior to that moment, she’d exchanged maybe three or four words total with Quinn’s mom.

  “Mom,” Quinn said cautiously. “Are you up to something?”

  Willow let out a bright trill of laughter. “What in the world could I be up to?”

  Nell made a snorting sound. “Anything’s possible. Be nice.”

  “Of course. I’m always nice.”

  Even Chloe was reasonably certain that was a lie, but she wanted to get off to a good start with Willow. “I’d love to, er, catch up.”

  “Great.” Willow gestured at a hallway across the room. “There’s a balcony in back. Let’s try that.”

  Willow led her through the crowd, pausing only for the occasional wave of greeting in the direction of someone she knew.

  Accessed through double glass doors, the balcony spanned the back of McKellan’s. It had a view of the pub’s full parking lot below and the dark humps of the Front Range in the distance.

  Willow pulled Chloe to an empty corner. Only then did she release Chloe’s hand. She didn’t waste time getting right to the point. “So, how are things with your mother?”

  Chloe went for honesty. It seemed the only course. “My mother and I aren’t speaking. That may be permanent.”

  Willow gave an elegant shrug. She’d been born in a double-wide southeast of town, but somehow everything she did was elegant. “I can’t say I’m sorry. Your mother doesn’t speak to me, either, never has. And I like it that way.” Chloe had no idea what to say to that, so she said nothing. Willow asked, “Are you saying you and your mother aren’t speaking because you’re with Quinn?”

  “That’s part of it, yes. But there are other problems, bigger issues.” Chloe shook her head. “And really, that’s all I’m going to say about my mother.”

  Willow rested her slim hands on the railing and stared off toward the mountains. “Quinn has...a tender soul.”

  “Yes. It’s one of the many things I love about him—and Nell’s already warned me not to hurt him, so you don’t have to go there.”

  “I didn’t think he would ever get married.” Willow glanced at Chloe then. “And never to someone like you.”

  Chloe felt annoyance rising and pointedly did not ask, What do you mean, someone like me? Instead, she offered pleasantly, “I think we’ll be happy together. We’re already happy.”

  Willow looked toward the mountains again and remarked in a weary tone, “You are a cool one.”

  “I...” Really, what was she supposed to say to this woman? “What, exactly, do you want from me, Willow?”

  Quinn’s mother continued her extended study of the distant peaks. “You know, I’m not sure. Except that you never struck me as a person who knew her own mind.” Ouch. That hit a little too close to home. How bad was this conversation going to get? As Chloe asked herself that question, Willow made it worse. “And you were born and raised to marry up, now, weren’t you? I just wonder, is Quinn ‘up’ enough for you? Do you think you’re better than he is?”

  “Absolutely not.” Chloe’s voice was hard and final, just as she’d intended it to be.

  “You say that as though you mean it.”

  “I do mean it.”

  “Wonderful. Then all I need to be sure of is that you can stand up to Linda. You need to be honest with yourself about that. Because if you can’t, there will be trouble ahead. Quinn’s had enough trouble, enough struggle in his life.”

  Before Chloe could decide how best to respond to that, Quinn spoke from behind her. “She’s doing fine bracing Linda, Mom—not that it’s any of your business in the first place.”

  Quinn to the rescue. Chloe could have hugged him. She turned and slipped her arm through his, finding great comfort in the hard strength of his forearm under her hand, in the solid warmth of him so close to her side.

  He slanted her a look both rueful and tender. “How you doing?”

  “Just fine. Now.”

  Willow sighed. “Quinn, you need to stop sneaking up on people.”

  “I’m in plain sight. You’re the one who was looking the other way.”

  “And it is my business,” Willow insisted. “You’re marrying Linda Winchester’s daughter, and Linda and I do not get along. I’m sorry about that, but it’s a fact. Chloe needs to be aware of the problem.”

  “I’m aware,” Chloe said. “Painfully so. And I’ve made it crystal clear to my mother that I run my own life and make my own decisions.”

  Quinn asked Willow, “Happy now?”

  “I only want you to be happy.”

  He put his big hand over Chloe’s, a touch of reassurance and support. Really, how did she get so lucky to finally find a man like him? “And I am happy, Mom. Very happy—now, come on. Let’s go back inside. It’s our party and we want to enjoy it.” He offered his mother his other arm.

  Willow took it and went in with them. Quinn got her a glass of white wine and she made the rounds, hugging her children, saying hello to various acquaintances. Within half an hour, she was leaving.

  “Back to Miami, no doubt,” said Nell as Willow slipped away down the stairs. “Or maybe Paris. Or New York. Since Dad died, she never stays here at home for long. I think she’s lonely in that big house all by herself.”

  “She does seem lonely,” Chloe agreed. Some of the things Willow had said to her still stung. But the woman was alone, and not in a good way. “She seems sad, too.”

  “Dad was her life. For decades, she battled Sondra to get him for her own. She was always kicking him out in big, dramatic scenes, telling him not to come back until he planned to stay. He would go home to Sondra. But he’d always come around again. And Mom would always take him back, even though he was still wearing his wedding band. Finally, when Sondra died, Mom got what she wanted most
of all. For a while, Dad was hers and hers alone. And then he died, too. Now that he’s gone, she hardly knows what to do with herself.”

  “She should sell that house,” said Quinn. “It’s too big and it’s full of stuff that belonged to Sondra.”

  Nell made a scoffing sound. “Which is why she’ll never sell it. In the end, she won out over Sondra. She got Sondra’s house and a whole bunch of Sondra’s treasures—including her husband.” Nell hooked an arm around Chloe and dipped her bright head to rest on Chloe’s shoulder. It was a sisterly gesture that warmed Chloe’s heart. Nell whispered, “I hope she didn’t give you too much crap.”

  Chloe whispered back, “Look who’s talking about giving me crap.”

  Nell laughed and let her go.

  Quinn grumbled, “What are you two whispering about?”

  Chloe leaned the other way and kissed him. “Nothing that concerns you.”

  * * *

  The following Saturday was Clara and Dalton’s wedding.

  Quinn sat in the second-row pew with Chloe on one side and Annabelle on the other as Clara and Dalton exchanged their vows. Whenever Quinn glanced at Chloe, she gave him one of those glowing smiles of hers. Annabelle, in a little pink dress with a wide satin bow at the waist and a bell-like skirt, sat up straight with her plump hands folded in her lap, a perfect little lady. Chloe had taken her to Boulder to choose the dress and then made her the cute beaded headband with the big pink silk flower for her hair.

  Life was good, Quinn thought. He and Chloe were together every chance they got. Every night last week, they’d shared dinner, the four of them, like the family they were becoming. Chloe did a lot of the cooking, which made everyone happy. Manny had a boatload of great qualities, including a love of cooking. Too bad his cooking sucked.

  Yeah. Life was good. Didn’t get any better. Though he did feel a twinge of envy as Dalton Ames, his eyes only for Clara, announced proudly, I do.

  Quinn wanted that, what Dalton and Clara had. He’d never thought it would happen for him. And now that it had happened, now that he had Chloe, he wanted it settled, wanted to seal the deal.