The Good Girl's Second Chance (The Bravos Of Justice Creek 2) Page 8

  “Did you think she wouldn’t?”

  Chloe suppressed a sigh. “No. I knew she would.” It had all seemed so amusing Friday night. But looking in Nell’s narrowed eyes right now, she didn’t think it was funny at all.

  Quinn’s sister demanded, “Answer my first question.”

  Chloe drew herself up. “Yeah. I had certain...fantasies about Quinn way back when. Is that somehow a crime?”

  “He’s not just a piece of tasty meat. He’s a good man.”

  Tasty meat? Chloe took care to keep her voice even. “I know he’s a good man, Nell.”

  “You slumming?”

  Chloe didn’t let her gaze waver. “I absolutely am not—and why would you think that? Quinn’s a brilliant man with a whole lot going for him. The word slumming just doesn’t apply.”

  “Oh, come on, Chloe. Your mother was practically best friends with my father’s first wife. No way Linda Winchester’s going to approve of you seeing one of the bastard Bravos—especially not the ‘stupid’ one who barely managed to finish high school.”

  Chloe felt the angry color flooding upward on her cheeks. When would people stop assuming that her mother made her choices for her? “Nell.” She made a show of clucking her tongue. “Where do I even start with you? Not fair. Not to Quinn. And not to me. He’s far from stupid and he’s done just fine for himself. We both know that. As for me, yes, it’s true. I used to let my mother have way too much influence over me. But that was then. Right this minute, I’m thirty-one, divorced, fully self-supporting and on my own. My mother has zero say about whom I go out with.”

  Nell’s lush mouth twisted. “Does your mother know that?”

  Busted. “I’ll say it again. I decide whom I spend time with.”

  Nell dropped her heavy boots to the floor, braced both elbows on the desk and folded her hands between them. “Am I pissing you off, Chloe?”

  The perennial good girl in Chloe pushed for denial, for smoothing things over after neatly sweeping them under the carpet. But no. The truth was better. “Yes, Nell. You are pissing me off.”

  “Good.” Nell tipped her head to the side. The overhead fluorescents made her fabulous hair shimmer like a red waterfall. “Don’t you hurt him, or you’ll be answering to me.”

  Chloe sat tall. “I don’t know for sure what’s going to happen. But Quinn’s an amazing man who means a lot to me. The last thing I would ever want to do is hurt him.”

  Nell’s swivel chair squeaked as she flopped back in it and folded her arms across her spectacular breasts. She stared at Chloe, unblinking, for a grim count of ten. Then: “Look. I like your plans for the house. You know your job. I like the way you carry yourself. And I hardly knew you, back in the day. You were four years ahead of me in school. I only knew your reputation as the perfect one, the one headed for a good marriage to a rich husband, two-point-two children, a soccer-mom-and-country-club life—and some chichi career that you could fit in between social engagements.”

  “Something like interior design, you mean?”

  “Hey. If the glass slipper fits...”

  “As it turned out, it didn’t. Not by a long shot. And that was then, Nell. I’m not that girl anymore.”

  Another long, measuring stare from Nell. Finally, she shrugged. “You know, I think I believe you.” She got up and held down her hand. Chloe did want peace with Quinn’s sister—with all of his family. After a moment’s hesitation, she took Nell’s offered hand and rose. Nell said, “Looking forward to working with you.”

  “I’m sure it will be interesting.”

  “Right. And listen. When you tell Quinn about this little talk we had—”

  Chloe didn’t even let her finish. “Why would I tell him? The way I see it, what just happened is between you and me.”

  Nell arched an auburn eyebrow. “Fair enough.” And then she grumbled, “I’m really starting to like you. How ’bout that?”

  “I’m glad. I’m going to do my best not to disappoint you—though you did go a little overboard just now.”

  Always a fighter, Nell stuck out her chin. “You think so?”

  “Yes, I do. Then again, it’s nice to know how much you love your brother and that you have his back.”

  * * *

  That evening, Chloe spent a pleasant hour with a sketch pad, drawing a series of small figures that looked a lot like Annabelle. The figures all wore different versions of a magical, multilayered, brightly colored fairy princess costume, complete with wings—because what’s a fairy princess costume unless there are wings?

  A little later, when Quinn showed up, she took him downstairs to her home office and showed him the drawings.

  “She would love it,” he admitted with some reluctance. And then he shook his head. “You know she wants a puppy, too? There’s no end to what Annabelle wants.”

  Chloe laughed. “The puppy’s your problem.”

  “So far, we’re holding the line on that.”

  “I just want to make this costume for her.”

  He took the sketch pad from her, dropped it to her desk, then wrapped his arms around her and kissed the end of her nose. “You’re a pushover.”

  She grinned up at him. “I promise to get myself under control soon when it comes to dealing with her. But I want to do this for her. I want her to have her dream room and I want her to have her fairy princess dress.”

  He chuckled. “You’re giving me the big eyes. You’re as bad as she is.”

  She traced the crew neck of his Prime Sports T-shirt with her index finger and then she pressed her lips against the hot skin of his powerful neck. “I would need to take her measurements, and probably let her see the sketches, to make sure I’ve got it right, got it just as she imagines it. So she would have to know ahead of time that she was getting what she wanted...”

  “Yep. The big eyes,” he muttered gruffly. “I know what you’re doing.” He kissed her then, a lovely, deep, slow one, after which she sighed and gazed up at him hopefully. Finally, he grumbled, “Wait a week or two before you bring it up to her. At least she won’t think all she has to do is bat her eyes and beg a little and everything she wants will just drop in her lap.”

  “I’ll check with Manny, too, to make sure he’s okay with it. And if he gives the go-ahead, I’ll wait two weeks to show her the drawings. How’s that?” she asked, batting her eyes for all she was worth.

  He gave in. “Fine.”

  “Thanks.” She sighed and turned in his embrace so she could lean back against him.

  He put his arms around her waist, and she felt his warm lips in her hair. “How’d your meeting with Nell go?”

  Chloe thought of his little sister’s biker boots hitting the desk, of the hot, protective gleam in Nell’s emerald-green eyes. “Great. I like her. I think we’ll work well together.”

  “She can be a hard ass. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

  Chloe smiled to herself. “Not a chance.”

  And then she caught his hand and led him back upstairs to her bedroom, where they made slow, delicious love.

  He put his clothes back on at a little after midnight. She hated to see him go and she told him so. And then she kind of waited for him to point out that, if they were married, he wouldn’t have to go.

  But then he just kissed her again and said he’d see her tomorrow.

  She put on her robe and walked him to the sliding door in the great room. Once he was gone, she stood looking out at the stars, thinking about saying yes to him.

  Wanting to.

  Because she wanted him. She liked him—and she liked his daughter and Manny, too. He wanted a wife and a mother for Annabelle. And all her life, she’d longed to be an excellent wife to a good and decent man, to be a loving mother. The idea of having Annabelle as her own made her heart feel too big for her chest. And the part about having Quinn’s babies?

  That hollowed her out and made her burn.

  But speaking of burning...she’d been burned before, and badly. And it h
adn’t even been three weeks since that first night Quinn came up the hill and joined her in her bed.

  How could she be sure of him in such a short time? With her track record, how could she be sure of anyone?

  The stars outside were silent. They had no answers for her.

  * * *

  Tuesday flew by. She had several customers at the showroom. And she had shopping to do, an endless list of goodies that would be needed for Quinn’s remodel.

  When Chloe got home that evening, she saw a moving van at the house across the street. She went on over. Manny was there, directing the movers. He greeted her with a grin and a hug and said that Quinn was down at the other house feeding Annabelle her dinner on the last night they would spend at home until after the remodeling.

  Chloe explained about the fairy princess dress.

  Manny said, “She’s gonna love that.”

  “So it’s okay with you? You don’t think I’m a complete pushover?”

  “I think we got a little girl who loves her princesses. And you want to help her with that. Sounds about right to me.”

  She thanked him and then glanced around, admiring the soaring stone fireplace and the thick log walls. “Give me a tour?”

  “Getting ideas for this one already?”

  She nodded. “I’m happy that I’ll have a chance to get to know this house ahead of time, get familiar with it, you know? I’ll have an opportunity to mull over what changes will work best for it. Redoing a log home presents a special set of challenges.”

  Manny seemed to be studying her. “You’re all right, Chloe.”

  “I’m glad you think so, Manny. I’m growing quite fond of you, as well.”

  “Quinn pop the question yet?”

  Chloe fell back a step. “He told you he was going to?”

  “Hell, no. He told me zip. But we been together more than a decade. I got a good idea what’s going on with him, whether he lays it out for me or not.” The two burly moving guys came in with the dining-room table. Manny said, “Through there, boys.” And on they went. Manny lowered his voice for Chloe alone and said, “You haven’t said yes yet, have you?”

  Chloe pretended to ponder. “Hmm. Let me see. Would Quinn really want me to answer that?”

  Manny chortled out a rough laugh. “Come on. Let me show you the house...”

  * * *

  The landline was ringing when Chloe got back to her place. It clicked over to her old-school answering machine before she could pick up.

  It was her mother. “Sweetheart, we’re home. Walked in the door five minutes ago. Maui was heaven, as always. But it’s nice to be back and I can’t want to see you, find out how you’ve been doing and tell you all about our trip. Call me the minute you get this. Love you...”

  Chloe stood by the phone and considered getting it over with, calling her mother back right away. Years of conditioning had her feeling she really ought to call now, that a good daughter could be counted on to keep in contact with the ones she loved.

  But as soon as her mother asked her what she’d been up to in the past two weeks, Chloe would be confronted with the question of how much to say.

  Ha. As if there was a choice. Monique Hightower was spreading the news about her and Quinn far and wide. One way or another, it wouldn’t be long before her mother got an earful. And it would probably be better if her mother heard it from Chloe.

  Better being a relative term, knowing her mother.

  Chloe picked up the phone.

  And then set it back down again.

  Her hand was shaking slightly, and that made her mad.

  Why should she live in fear of her own mother? She’d faced Nell Bravo right down and told her that Linda Winchester did not run her life. She’d told Quinn the same thing. She needed to live by her own words.

  Chloe turned the ringer off on the kitchen and bedroom phones and turned the volume on the message machine all the way down. Then she switched the sound off on her cell, as well. She’d check to see who’d called her at her convenience, thank you very much.

  And she would get in touch with her mother later, after she’d had a little time to decide exactly what she wanted to say to her.

  * * *

  The evening went by—a goodly portion of it spent joyfully in Quinn’s strong arms. After he left, she had trouble falling asleep. She couldn’t stop stewing over what to tell her mom.

  Somehow, in the morning, she slept through her alarm. That left her rushing to get ready and out the door in time to get the showroom opened by nine.

  Her mother called the showroom number at ten. “Sweetheart, there you are!”

  Chloe still wasn’t ready to deal with her. “Mom. Glad you’re home safe. Can’t talk now. You know that. I’m at work.”

  “But how am I supposed to get hold of you if you won’t answer your—?”

  “Mom, I have another call,” she outright lied. “I’ll call you this evening, I promise.”

  “But—”

  “Gotta go. I’ll call. Promise.”

  Her mother was still protesting as Chloe hung up the phone. She knew time was running out. She was going to have to stop being such a coward. All day long, in the back of her mind, she rehearsed the things she would say when she called back that night.

  I’ve been seeing Quinn Bravo. I care for him, Mom. Deeply. He’s asked me to marry him and I am seriously considering telling him yes.

  It all sounded so simple. It was...what people did. They found each other and they fell for each other and realized they didn’t want to be apart. So they got married and raised a family.

  Why shouldn’t she have that—and with the right man this time? With a good man, a strong man. A man who cared about more than money and power and things. A man who considered her a whole person, with a heart and mind of her own, not just his most prized possession who looked good on his arm and had great taste and could work a room with the best of them.

  Short answer: she absolutely should have that. And she would have it. With Quinn.

  By the time she locked up the showroom and went home, she was all fired up to get it over with. To call her mother and tell her simply and proudly that she and Quinn were together.

  But as it turned out, no call was necessary. When she pulled into her driveway, her mother’s Mercedes SUV was parked in the side space next to the garage.

  Chloe’s stomach lurched at the sight, which was so pitiful it made her want to throw her head back and scream. But she didn’t scream. She drew in a slow breath and told herself to man up. It was her life and she was going to live it for herself, not her mother. She would tell her mom the simple truth about her and Quinn and that would be that.

  But then, as she left the garage by the breezeway door and caught sight of her mother waiting on the front step, it became crystal clear from the tight, furious expression on Linda Winchester’s face that she already knew about Quinn.

  Chloe’s steps faltered. Only for a second, though. She quickly caught herself, straightened her shoulders and kept right on walking. “Mom. I don’t remember you mentioning that you would be dropping by.”

  “Oh, please.” Her mother gave her a truly withering glance. “Let me in. I have a few things to say to you and I’m not going to say them on your front step.”

  Chloe froze with her key raised to unlock the door. “Look, Mother. I don’t want to—”

  “Open the door. Now, please.”

  The temptation was so powerful to tell her mother right then and there that this was her house and she would decide who did or didn’t enter it.

  But then again, well, Linda Winchester wasn’t the only one who had a few things to say. And she wasn’t the only one who preferred to have this out in private.

  So she unlocked the door. Her mother brushed past her as she disarmed the alarm.

  Carefully, quietly, Chloe shut the door. Her mother stood beside the formal dining table, her blond head high, bright spots of color flaming on her cheeks, her lips bloodless
with tension.

  Chloe almost felt sorry for her. “Look, Mom. Why don’t you sit down?”

  Linda whipped out the chair at the end of the table and sat in it. She put her hand to her mouth and shut her eyes.

  Chloe took the nearest chair. She waited until her mother dropped her hand away from her mouth and opened her eyes again before she said gently, “You’re obviously very upset. Please tell me why.”

  Her mother sucked in a gasp and snapped, “Don’t you play coy with me, Chloe.”

  “I’m not playing coy,” Chloe said with a calm that surprised her. “What I’m doing is trying my best not to jump to conclusions.”

  “All right.” With two sharp tugs, Linda straightened the sides of the linen jacket she wore. “Agnes Oldfield dropped by to see me an hour ago. She says it’s all over town that you’ve been seeing Quinn Bravo. She says you went to the Sylvan Inn with him last Friday night, where you told Monique Hightower right to her face that you were...attracted to that man ever since high school. Agnes also says that you’ve been seen having ice cream with him and that child of his. She says that everyone says how...intimate you seem together, that it’s obvious something serious is going on between you.” Linda pressed her hand flat to her chest, and shook her head fiercely. “I do not believe this. Tell me that none of it is true.”

  Chloe just stared. God. She’d known this would be bad. But somehow, now that it was actually happening, all she could think was What are we doing here? How could I have let it get his far? Why didn’t I back her down years ago?

  The questions were all too familiar to her. They were the same ones she’d asked herself over and over about her ex-husband.

  “Well?” her mother demanded. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “You know, Mom. I don’t think I have to say anything. But I would like to know what happened to you? I just don’t understand how you got so messed up.”

  Another indignant gasp. “Excuse me?”

  “It’s not going to work on me, Mother. Not anymore. All your trumped-up outrage, your sad, small-minded ideas about who’s okay and who’s not. Your judgments about the right kind of people and the ones who just don’t measure up.”