Divorced, Desperate and Dead (Divorced and Desperate Book 5) (14 page)

Cutting his gaze down to his chest and the book, he couldn’t help but wonder if Chloe had really not written since her asshole of a fiancé offed himself. That was a blasted shame. She had too damn much talent to waste.

He closed his eyes and remembered being next to her in her bed. His mind recreated the kiss and how she’d looked in that white nightshirt. But that hadn’t even been his favorite thing about their time together. It was them . . . just talking, sharing. He hadn’t had that—just being himself with a woman—since . . . since his ex-wife taught him not to trust.

A lesson, for some reason, he felt he needed to cling to right now.

• • •

The noon sun spilled into his grandmother’s empty house, making the stale, humid air feel even hotter. J.D. heard a car and hurried to the kitchen window to make sure it was who he thought it was. Spotting Carlos’ old Saturn pull up behind his truck, he opened the door.

The first thing J.D. did was look to see if his friend was alone. Then again, someone could be ducking down in the backseat. His pulse raced.

He trusted Carlos, he told himself, or at least he thought he did, but he knew how persuasive Jax could be. Look what J.D. had done to try to impress him.

As the car came to a stop, J.D.’s gut said he shouldn’t have told Carlos where he was, but he needed some company. Needed someone to talk to. Someone besides the water stain on the ceiling and the ghost of a grandmother.

• • •

Chloe walked out of the dressing room with the two dresses she’d just tried on in her hand. “I think this one,” she said, and held up the pink sundress.

“No, the red one,” Sheri said, pulling the hanger with the pink dress out of Chloe’s hands and replacing it with the red dress. After accepting a date with Dan, she’d realized she had nothing to wear. So she’d begged her best friend to take off at lunch and go hit a few stores to get her ‘date-ready.’

“I don’t know,” Chloe said and held it up to her. “It’s red. And red says you’re gonna get to screw me.”

“No, it says, ‘Buy me.’” Sheri started leading her out of the dress department. “It’s not a screw me dress. Screw me dresses, have a slit up to here,” she ran her finger up her thigh. “And neck lines down to here. This doesn’t even show cleavage,” Sheri said.

“Because my cleavage is still a little purple.” She reached for the pink dress, but Sheri held it back.

“Then buy both of them,” Sheri offered. “Red at least says—”

“No,” Chloe leaned in, “I’m not buying a dress that says ‘You’re gonna take this off of me tonight.’”

“It doesn’t say that.” Sheri laughed. “That’s what the red underwear you’re going to buy says. This dress just says, ‘If you behave, you might get a peek at what’s beneath.’”

“I’m not getting naked with him. And I’m not buying new underwear.” Chloe stopped and pressed a palm to her forehead. “Why did I agree to do this? I don’t want to do this.”

“Yes, you do.” Sheri nudged her forward.

“Seriously, I don’t think I’m ready,” Chloe said.

“Yes, you are.” Sheri stopped in front of a selection of colored underwear. “Look at me,” her friend said. “Jerry killed himself, and that had to hurt like hell, and then you practically died. But you didn’t die. You’re still here and you need this.”

“Need what?” Chloe asked.

Sheri took her by the shoulders. “You need a night of nothing but hot, uncommitted, lustrous sex to make you realize you are still alive.” She gave her a little shake. “Now, what size bra do you wear?”

Chloe closed her eyes and muttered, “Thirty-four C.” Then she opened her eyes. “Fine. I’ll go on the date. I’ll wear the dress and the underwear, but I’m not sleeping with him.”

“Fine,” Sheri said, as if proud of herself. “But . . . never say never. Sometimes, when you meet someone, it can just feel right.”

“True.” Chloe remembered her dream with Cary Stevens. “But my gut says Dan isn’t that someone. I’m not climbing in bed with someone just to prove that I’m not dead.”

Sheri looked at her as if trying to read her mind. “You’re still hung up over Johnny Depp and that whole dream thing, aren’t you?”

“I’m not hung up.”

“Yes, you are.” She crossed her arms and grinned. “Okay, look at it like this. If you go out with Danny and don’t fall in love or lust with him, maybe Mr. Depp will get the message that you’re not waiting around on him, and he might even step up to the plate.”

Chloe shook her head and stared dumbfounded at her best friend. “Let me get this straight. You’ve given me two options: go out and screw this guy silly—just so I can get back on the horse so to speak—or use him to make his partner jealous.”

“You got it. You do one, or the other. Whichever one floats your boat. Or you could do both.” She wiggled her brows.

“I can honestly say that every article I’ve ever read about dating says both pieces of your advice are big mistakes.”

“Oh, please. Don’t believe everything you read. Be brave. Take the bull by the horns.” She paused and smiled. “Or . . . here’s option number three: Get all fancied up, forget Danny, and go see Mr. Depp and tell him you’re wearing red underwear just for him.”

Chloe made a face. “Option three: just go throw myself at him?”

“Pretty much.” Sheri grinned. “And don’t cut that idea. I’ve done that one personally.”

Chloe rolled her eyes. “All this advice coming from a girl whose fiancé has canceled their wedding twice and she’s not concerned . . . or is too scared to find out what’s really going on.”

Sheri frowned. “I never said I didn’t have problems. But we’re working on you first. Let’s get you laid and then you can kick my ass later.”

“I’m not getting laid.” When Sheri started to argue, Chloe continued, “But . . . you buy some red underwear, too. Maybe that’s all you and Kevin need . . . to spice things up. What size bra do
you
wear?”

“I don’t think—”

“What size?” Chloe asked in her don’t-argue-with-me voice.

Sheri snagged a thirty-four B cup and then looked at Chloe. “Okay . . . I’ll buy some screw-me underwear. But if he doesn’t screw me, the shit is gonna hit the fan.” They went to pay, and as they walked back to Chloe’s car, Sheri asked, “Which option are you going with?”

“I don’t have a freaking clue,” Chloe answered.

“If I get a vote, I say the third one. Get all dressed up, and show up at his house, Chloe. Just do it.”

Chapter Fourteen

J.D. stayed on guard, standing at the back door, studying the guy’s backseat and expecting Jax to pop up and shoot him. What surprised J.D. the most was he wasn’t running away. Almost as if he didn’t care if he died.

But when Carlos got out, he had a fast food bag in one hand, and a six pack in the other. J.D. felt ashamed for suspecting his friend of turning on him.

“Hey,” Carlos said walking up.

“Hey,” J.D. said. “Thanks for this. What do I owe you?” He walked into the kitchen and Carlos followed.

“It was twenty with lunch and beer,” he said and looked around. “Where’s all your grandmother’s stuff?”

He and Carlos had known each other since junior high—since J.D. moved in with his grandmother after running away from home the first time. Carlos used to come over quite a bit. “They got rid of it.”

“Are they letting you hang here, or did you just break in?”

“No one is letting me. But I didn’t break in. My grandmother kept a key hidden under a rock.”

“Cool,” Carlos said and pulled out a beer and lifted the top. “Well, not so cool, actually. Jax is looking for you. He said he called you and you haven’t called him back. He’s getting pissed, man. You should call him.”

J.D. grabbed his own beer. “He wants me to kill that woman.”

“What woman?” Carlos asked and took a hearty sip of beer.

“The one I hit. He’s afraid if I get caught on that, it will lead them to all the other stuff.”

Carlos frowned. “You gonna do it?”

He started to say hell no, but instead replied, “I’m hoping it will blow over. And when he sees they aren’t gonna catch me, then . . . then he’ll drop it.”

“Jax doesn’t drop much,” Carlos said, sounding worried.

“I know,” he said and took another sip of his beer.

• • •

“Why are you in my bed?”

The voice jarred Cary awake. His eyes shot open and he saw his niece’s face right in his. “Sorry. I got bored and needed something to read. And I . . . I fell asleep.” Something wet filled his ear. Realizing it was Pooch’s tongue, he nudged the dog aside.

“She’s the best writer ever, isn’t she?” Bella’s big smile filled his vision and he realized she was looking at the book on his chest.

“Yeah. She is.” The dog came back and he could swear her tongue went all the way down to his ear drum. “Stop,” he growled at the dog.

“And she’s beautiful, too.” Those words hadn’t come from Bella’s lips. He leaned his head up and saw Kelly standing in her daughter’s doorway. “And I think she’s available. Or, at least that’s what Wikipedia said about her.”

He closed the book on his chest and sat up, trying not to see the spark of matchmaker in his sister’s eye. Focusing back on Bella, he said, “Thanks for loaning them to me.”

“I didn’t loan them to you.” She started collecting the books on the floor where he’d sat them as he’d finished. “You read them without permission, but that’s alright, I love you. And mom said I needed to be really nice to you because you were shot.”

“Thanks,” he said and tried to stop Pooch from crawling into his lap.

“And. . .” Bella’s eyes grew bright, “Mom said you know her and you could invite her to my birthday party.”

He cut a cold look at his sister and relented, letting the damn dog find a spot on his lap. “I . . . I don’t know her that well.”

“Could you please ask her to come? I’d love you forever. And forever. And then more forever.”

“I . . . I don’t know if . . . We’ll have to see.” He scooped the dog up, put him on the floor, and stood. “I think I have some gum in the extra bedroom on the nightstand.”

Bella squealed. His sister moaned when her daughter ran out the door.

“I swear you are paying for her teeth to be filled.”

He frowned at the dog at his feet already wanting him to pick it up, and then at his sister. “Why did you tell Bella I’d invite Chloe to her birthday party?”

“Because she’s Bella’s favorite author and I think you and Chloe might be right for each other.”

“Right for each other? Why? Because she saw me naked? We don’t even know each other.”

His sister laughed. “But think about what a cute meet story you would have. ‘The first time we met, I was naked and we rolled around in banana pudding together.’”

“Seriously, why did you tell Bella that I would bring Chloe to her birthday party? You know I hate disappointing her . . .”

“I know. That’s why I did it.” Kelly smiled and turned and walked down the hall.

He followed her, watching to make sure he didn’t step on Pooch. “Fine, but when Bella’s upset, it’s on you.”

His sister turned. “She won’t be upset if you invite Chloe.”

“Even if I did invite her, why the hell do you think she’d come?”

Kelly’s smile took over her face. Big and bright.  “Because, like you said, she saw you naked.”

He frowned.

“And I saw how she looked at you . . . naked,” his sister continued. “Not to mention the way you looked at her. And she was fully clothed.” Pooch let out a small bark. His sister chuckled and glanced down at the dog sitting up on its hind legs, begging for Cary to pick it up. “It sort of reminds me of how Pooch looks at you. It was love at first sight between you two as well. Did you know he won’t even let any of us hold him? Look.” She knelt down to pick up the tiny dog. Pooch growled and backed off.

“It’s not my fault that he has good taste.” Cary frowned.

Kelly wiggled her eyebrows. “Maybe Chloe Sanders has good taste, too.”

“Don’t go there,” he growled.

“The only place I’m going is to start dinner.” She moved down the hall. “You know, she does birthday parties.”

“What?” he asked, confused.

“Chloe Sanders does birthday parties.”

He had a crazy vision of her in bikini jumping out of a cake. “She does not.”

“A year and a half ago, she held a contest and did three birthday parties. She came and gave all the kids books and did a reading. Bella was devastated she didn’t win.”

He shook his head, his mind still stuck on that picture of her in that bathing suit. “What about taking me home?” He picked up Pooch, not because he liked him, but because he didn’t want to step on him. Muttering under his breath, he followed his sister into the kitchen. “I need to get home.”

“Not until after dinner,” she said without looking back. “I’m cooking your favorite. Chili dogs.”

Damn, he loved chili dogs, but . . . “They give me gas,” he complained.

She shot him a grin over her shoulder. “I know, that’s why I didn’t cook them last night.” She waved a hand under her nose. “You eat and then I’ll take you home. You can contaminate your own place.”

“You know you are a pain in the ass,” he said.

“And you love me as much as I love you.”

She was right. He did.

She stared at him for several long seconds. “You two really belong together. It’s fate.”

“I don’t know her,” he snapped.

She made a funny face. “I’m talking about you and Pooch. He needs a good home.”

“How much?” he growled.

“What?”

“Don’t pretend. You’ve done it three times already. You try to get me to take one of your foster animals, and when I say no you start in on how the shelter doesn’t have money to keep feeding them, and I end up giving you a donation. So, how much?”

“This time is different. He really likes you.”

Cary made a face. “If you think I’m going to take this . . . this hairy guinea pig home, then you’re nuts.”

“Fine,” she said. “Make the check out for a hundred.”

“A hundred? Why so much this time?”

“Because it’s gonna take a long time to find anyone willing to take that grumpy dog.”

“He’s not that bad.”