Fool for Love (8 page)

Her memories evaporated when she realized Daisy had fallen silent. Chloe glanced over just as the woman shrugged out of her life vest and hurled it away! “What are you doing?”

“Throwing caution to the wind. Never wore those pesky things back in the day.”

“But…” Chloe sat up so fast she almost fell overboard. “Dammit, Daisy.”

“Stop being such a worrywart.”

“If anything happens to you—”

“I’ll die a happy woman.” She giggled and paddled with her hands, pulling ahead of Chloe. “I feel like a kid again!”

“You’re certainly acting like one.” Chloe debated whether to retrieve the castaway life vest or catch up to her runaway boss. She spied the bridge up ahead and a sharp bend beyond. If Daisy drifted out of sight … Chloe paddled for all she was worth. “Put this on,” she said as she closed in.

“No, thanks.”

“I’m not asking; I’m telling.” A desperate need to take charge of a potentially dicey situation made Chloe’s tone and actions clipped. She unbuckled the last strap and thrust her vest at her crazy boss. “Swear to God, if you don’t put this on, I’ll latch onto you or your tube and somehow muscle you to shore.”

“Your bra’s showing,” Daisy said with an ornery grin.

“I don’t give a flip about modesty just now.” In the past, she’d performed as a party motivator, sometimes wearing beaded corsets or bras as part of her costume. It’s not like she’d never shown some skin, and besides, her pink and red floral demi-bra could almost pass as a bathing suit top.
Almost.

“Glad to hear that, kitten.” Daisy snatched the life vest, but just as she shoved one arm through, a male voice bellowed from shore. “Bert must’ve snitched,” Daisy grumbled under her breath. “The rat.” Then she yelled, “Don’t bust a blood vessel! I’m coming!”

Chloe looked to where Daisy looked and yelped. Just ahead, striding down a rocky slope and toward the edge of the lapping water: Devlin Monroe.
Of all the …
Her skin burned and her heart pumped. Two thoughts hijacked her brain.

He’s going to kill me.

He’s seeing me in my bra.

The latter caused her to fling herself over the tube into the river. A knee-jerk reaction.

The splash caused Daisy to look over her shoulder.

“I’m fine!’ Chloe told her, clinging to the tube, her scantily clad body hidden safely beneath the murky water. “Keep going!” The sooner Daisy reached shore, the sooner Devlin would stop worrying, the sooner his temper would cool. She hoped.

Daisy paddled and kicked toward her grandson while Chloe frantically explored her options. How was she going to emerge from this fiasco with her pride intact? Once on dry land, she could hold the inner tube in front of her, hiding her bra. Although that seemed kind of childish. Not to mention she couldn’t get in a car like that. She could brazen it out and pretend her bra was a bathing suit top. Why was she being so neurotic?

Because you’re attracted to the man.

Another source of embarrassment. She’d been single less than a week and she was already hot to trot? She wasn’t a prude, as Daisy had suggested, but she wasn’t promiscuous either.

“Get the hell over here!” Devlin shouted to Chloe just as he pulled his grandma out of the water.

Chloe snapped out of her daze, realizing she’d floated under the bridge and was gaining speed. She could feel a difference in the current. Up ahead the river took a sharp turn. Was that Willow Bend? Bert had pleaded with Daisy to end their ride at Willow Bend, nixing the whitewater portion of the ride. She’d agreed, but Bert hadn’t looked convinced. Although as soon as they’d pushed off, Daisy had reassured Chloe—no rapids. Except Daisy wasn’t with her now and she had no idea how close or far she was from the more challenging part of the course.

Her pulse raced remembering when she’d vacationed in Florida with her dad and mom. She’d only been eight at the time. Her swimming skills extended to dog-paddling, so she’d been using one of those old inflatable donuts, something like an inner tube only flimsier, when the undercurrent had swept her far from the beach and …

“Oh … my … God.” She scissor kicked with a vengeance, frantic to get to shore. She felt the oversized trunks slipping down her legs but refused to let go of her two-armed strangle grip on the tube. All she could think about was those rapids somewhere up ahead. Were they as fierce as some of the ones she’d seen on television? What if she went under?

She broke into a sweat even though she was chilled to the bone. Her vision blurred. She couldn’t see Daisy or Devlin. Why wasn’t she getting any closer to shore? She heard her name, heard a splash. She whipped around and saw someone swimming toward her in strong, easy strokes.

Devlin.

In a heartbeat, he was there. With her. Surrounding her.

She felt his arms close around her trembling body. She felt his warmth, his strength.

“You’re swimming against the current,” he said, maneuvering her around and guiding her toward shore. Which really wasn’t all that far, although in her panic it had seemed like miles. It reminded her of how her dad had dove into the ocean and rescued her, but not before a wave had taken her under. She’d been so sure she was going to drown.

Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions, Chloe choked on tears.

“You’re okay,” Devlin said, tightening his hold. “Almost there.”

She wanted to thank him. She wanted to apologize for freaking out. But her throat was clogged with embarrassment and relief and the thrill of his touch. If he held her any closer, they’d be one. His masculine scent made her dizzy and the feel of his warm breath on her neck as he continued to talk her down drove her wild. Moments ago she’d gone cold with fear and now … now every fiber of her body burned with desire. How could she be terrified one moment and turned on the next? Were her emotions that out of whack?

Apparently so.

Devlin half-carried her out of the water, before letting her go and easing away.

She swung around to face him, clinging to the inner tube while catching her breath and wits.

He stared.

She stared.

He’d shucked his shoes and socks before diving in, but other than that he was fully clothed. And soaked. His khaki Dockers clung to his muscled thighs and his white oxford shirt melded to his chiseled torso.

Wow.

Frowning, he raked his wet hair from his face—a sexy move that knotted her stomach—then started unbuttoning his shirt.

Face burning, she blurted, “What are you doing?”

He raised a brow in answer, his blue gaze sliding down her trembling body. She realized suddenly that she’d lost Bert’s trunks in the river and that she was standing there in her thong and demi-bra. The inner tube pretty much covered her front, but Devlin had seen her backside when he’d carried her out of the water. Just now said backside was exposed for the world to see—should anyone happen by.

Shoot me now.

He moved in behind her, concealing her bare butt, and helped her into his shirt.

She dropped the tube and hurriedly buttoned up. Although his shirt was soaked and probably see-through, it was better than nothing.

She started to thank him, but Daisy emerged from a thicket of trees, hurrying toward them in her bra and girdle. “Are you all right?” she asked Chloe.

“I’m fine. You?”

“Dandy. Except for my killjoy grandson here. I—”

“We’ll talk about this when everyone’s dry and decent.” Stern-faced, he guided them through the trees, up an incline, and toward the covered bridge.

Even though his bare torso was glorious to behold, it was difficult to enjoy when his mood was so prickly. Chloe fell into sullen silence while contemplating the best way of defending her actions without blaming the entire mess on Daisy.

Daisy pouted from the time Devlin loaded them into his Escalade to the moment he dropped them at Bert’s, where they retrieved their clothing and the Caddy. Once the two women were alone in the old car, Daisy let loose with her gripes and concerns about her uptight, controlling grandson, then lapsed into an excited ramble about tonight’s cupcake meeting. She had a new recipe that she was dying to share and hoped Tasha—whoever that was—didn’t rain on her parade, again. The conversation was mostly one sided. Partly because Daisy wouldn’t stop talking, partly because Chloe was obsessing on the man who’d insisted on following them home.

Unsettled and dreading a showdown, Chloe was beyond relieved when she parked the Caddy in Daisy’s driveway and, after pausing to make sure they headed directly inside the house, Devlin kept driving.

Maybe he’d decided there was nothing more to talk about. He’d pretty much said it all with his hard looks and stony silence. Chloe had screwed up and he wasn’t happy about it.

She could live with that. Now if she could just erase the image of those wet clothes clinging to his hard body and the memory of his strong embrace, she would be, as Daisy was fond of saying, dandy.

Desperate for a shower and some downtime, Chloe grabbed her suitcase. “If you could show me to my room—”

“Later.” Daisy grasped her arm and tugged her toward the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a cocktail. While we’re at it, I want your opinion on my Cinnamon Applesauce Cupcakes. By the way,” she added before Chloe could get a word in, “I think my grandson has the hots for you.”

EIGHT

“I can’t believe Dev allowed you to borrow his house,” Monica said. “For the meeting, I mean. He’s so private. Wasn’t he worried we’d poke around?”

“Worried enough to scrub the bathroom and kitchen,” Rocky said as she poured her friend a cup of Earl Grey. “He must’ve really gone at it. The toilet bowl’s gleaming.”

“You checked the toilet?”

“Are you serious? You know men.”

“I know Leo. He’s usually pretty good, but once in a while he splashes the rim. What’s so hard about aiming their willies for the middle?”

“Did you just say ‘willy’?”

“Leo and I made a pact to clean up our potty mouths. You know, for when the little one comes.”

Was that a hint of thrilling news? Rocky grinned. “So you’re—”

“Not yet. Hopefully soon. You’d think after three months of doing it every day, twice a day…”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, well, Leo’s starting to wear on stamina … and patience. Don’t get me started.” Monica sipped tea, regrouped, then smiled. “So, why’d you ask me to show early? What’s up?”

“My curiosity. Maybe you know something I don’t.”

“About?”

Jazzed for juice, Rocky leaned in. “Did Chloe call you about today?”

“You mean the tubing incident?”

“Dev called me before everything played out. Then after to let me know everyone was okay. No freaking details. He sounded pissed, broody even. I’m guessing he blames Chloe for indulging Gram’s whim. I’m guessing he gave her hell when just this morning I begged him to be nice to her. So did he?”

“Give her hell?” Monica shook her head. “More like the silent treatment.”

“Sometimes that’s worse. Means he’s stewing. If and when he blows … yikes.”

“I actually think there’s more to it.” Monica leaned forward as well, an ornery gleam in her eye. “Did Dev tell you that he met Chloe yesterday at Oslow’s and that they shared a
moment
?”

“What kind of moment?”

“A brief flirtation.”

“Dev doesn’t flirt.”

“Chloe was pretty certain, which is why she was so surprised when he acted like a dick,
crap,
wiener last night at Luke’s. Of course, Dev didn’t know
who
he was flirting with at Oslow’s. Chloe ran out before introductions.”

“Huh.” Sometime between Oslow’s and Luke’s, Jayce had filled Dev in on Chloe’s background. Information that led Dev to believe Chloe was unreliable. Someone who took advantage of people to finance her
flaky
lifestyle. Rocky was dying to know what constituted flaky? She wanted to ask Monica about Chloe’s past but didn’t know how without revealing Dev had had her investigated. Instead she said, “I can’t wait to meet Chloe.”

“Well, it won’t be tonight.”

“What do you mean? She’ll be with Gram, right?”

“She’s dropping her off and picking her up. She begged off the meeting.”

“As a chef, I thought she’d be into talking shop and swapping recipes.”

“She has an aversion to desserts just now.” Monica waved off Rocky’s next question. “Not for me to explain. However, for what it’s worth I totally understand. It’s been a big day and she’s wiped.”

“Guess I’ll have to rein in my curiosity until tomorrow when I stop over at Gram’s for a visit.” Rocky sipped tea, sighed. She was totally intrigued with Chloe Madison. Dev flirting? She couldn’t imagine. But then she did and it made her smile really big. Was it possible that a woman had finally broken through her brother’s defenses and truly bewitched the cynical, infuriatingly grounded man? Unreliable and flaky, huh? As in someone who lived life to the fullest? No regrets? That could be good or bad for Dev. Depending.

She
had
to meet this woman. When she did, as a keen judge of character, she’d know right away if Chloe was trouble or a blessing.

Someone pounded on the door. Before they were out of their seats, the pounding sounded again. “Someone’s impatient,” Monica said as she cleared their teacups.

“Probably Tasha. She was horrible before. Now she’s a bitch on wheels. Who died and made her president of Cupcake Lovers?”

“Her mom.”

“Oh, right. I try so hard to forget.” Rocky cursed under her breath. “I’ll get the door.”

“I’ll get the cupcakes. They smell scrumptious by the way.”

“Thanks.” Whenever someone hosted, they provided a featured beverage and cupcake. This week Rocky had gone with Earl Grey and Strawberry Jam Tea Cakes. Normally she looked forward to the meetings. A chance to catch up with friends. A chance to sample someone’s new recipe or a favorite old recipe and to swap ideas on how to channel their fund-raising efforts. Sure. Cupcake Lovers was kind of old-fashioned, but that’s what Rocky loved about it. The roots. The history. The combined efforts of locals to make a difference in and beyond Sugar Creek. There was only one thing about Cupcake Lovers she didn’t like.