Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 Page 8

He laughed when he finally lifted his head. “Hey. I’m only going around the block.”

  “I know.” She sighed, wrapped her arms around his waist, and beamed up at him. “But I want to make sure you don’t forget me.”

  “No chance of that.” He took a curl of her hair and wrapped it around his hand. “We got a special thing going, you and me.”

  “Oh, yes, we do.”

  He touched her chin with his thumb, brushed one last kiss across her upturned lips. “Get some rest.”

  She promised she would and reluctantly stepped back so he could open the car door and slide in behind the wheel. Then she waited, her arms wrapped around herself against the predawn chill, as he backed from the driveway and drove off down the street.

  As soon as his taillights disappeared, she missed him. She wanted to run inside, grab the phone and call him back.

  Which was totally silly. He’d asked her to marry him. And she was redecorating his house—both of his houses, as a matter of fact.

  One way or another, she would be seeing him very soon.

  * * *

  She saw him the next day. He called and invited her out for ice cream with him and Annabelle. Chloe spent two lovely hours with father and daughter. Annabelle enchanted her. It might be too soon to talk about falling in love with Quinn. But she had no problem admitting she was head over heels for his little girl.

  And then, that night, Quinn came up the hill to join her. He stayed for two hours. They talked about Annabelle and about Chloe’s plans for his houses—and then they made love. He left at a little past midnight.

  Same thing on Sunday night.

  Monday at nine in the morning, Quinn closed on the house across the street from Chloe. Then, at eleven, he brought Manny and Annabelle to Chloe’s showroom to see the plans and sign the contract for the redesign of the house down the hill. Chloe had cookies on offer at the coffee table, which Annabelle spotted immediately. Manny said she could have one.

  Annabelle chose a cookie, thanked Chloe sweetly—and asked if she knew how to make a fairy princess dress. “I want one, Chloe. Will you please make me one?”

  Before Chloe could reply that she absolutely could and would, Quinn said, “Anniefannie, you are pushing it.”

  “Daddy!” The little girl tipped her cute nose high in a perfect imitation of disdain. “I’m not a fannie.”

  “But will you stop pushing it?”

  Annabelle dimpled adorably. “But Chloe can make a room. I know she can make me a fairy princess dress.” She turned pleading eyes on Chloe, who longed only to give her whatever she wanted. “Pleeeaaase, Chloe.”

  Manny spoke up then. He said one word. “Annabelle.” After which he pushed back his chair and held out his hand.

  Annabelle’s lower lip started quivering. “Oh, no. Not the car. I don’t want to sit in the car. Pleeaaassse, Manny.”

  Manny let out a heavy sigh. “Are you gonna stop pestering Chloe and sit quietly at the table while we finish our business here?”

  Annabelle announced loudly, “Yes, I am!”

  Manny mimed locking his lips with a key.

  Annabelle straightened her small shoulders and folded her hands on the table, all the while pressing her lips together and pointedly glancing from one adult to the next.

  Finally, Manny nodded. “All right. We’ll give it a try.”

  Annabelle nodded wildly but kept her little mouth tightly shut.

  “Eat your cookie,” Quinn said in his gentlest voice.

  Annabelle made short work of the treat. And then Manny gave her a cup of crayons and some paper. She was a perfect little angel, happily coloring away as the grown-ups finished their meeting.

  That afternoon, Chloe visited Bravo Construction, which consisted of three trailers and a warehouse on the southwest edge of town. She met with Nell Bravo, who was in her late twenties and stunningly beautiful, with long auburn hair and a vivid half-sleeve tattoo down her shapely left arm. The baby of the Bravo family, Nell had always been outspoken and tough-minded. Everyone knew you didn’t mess with Nell.

  Chloe had the plans with her for Quinn’s redesign. She spent two hours in Nell’s office trailer, going over everything in detail, coming to agreement on the budget and the schedule.

  Nell would personally run the job. Tomorrow, Chloe would get busy ordering cabinets and appliances, counters and flooring. Nell would put in for the permits they would need. Demo would begin first thing next Monday morning. If all went as planned—which it rarely did—the project would take nine to ten weeks.

  At four o’clock, when they had everything pretty well hammered out, Chloe got up to leave.

  And Nell hoisted her heavy black biker boots up onto her battered desk. “Before you head out, we need to talk. Hey, Ruby?”

  The plump, motherly looking clerk at the desk near the door glanced around. “What do you need?”

  “Take fifteen?”

  “Sure.” Ruby got up from her laptop and left the trailer.

  Chloe had a sinking feeling in her stomach.

  Nell proved the feeling right as soon as the door closed behind the clerk. “So, I hear you’ve had a thing for Quinn ever since high school. Is that true?”

  Chloe dropped back into her chair. “Monique Hightower’s been talking.”

  “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 hadn’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.