Authors: Jessica Prince
Derrick
THE SOUNDS OF
the crowd cheering and yelling around me were muffled by the blood rushing through my ears. And believe me, no one was as shocked by the intensity of my reaction to Chloe flirting as I was. I knew I was attracted to her. I knew I
wanted
her, but as the desire to pummel the dickhead on the field continued to grow, my brain kept repeating “
Mine, mine, mine. Hands off, limp dick
,” over and over again.
But that wasn’t really the case at all, was it?
Chloe
wasn’t
mine. She couldn’t be. Because I couldn’t give her what she wanted. I’d tried the white picket fence thing already. It just wasn’t in the cards for me. If I’d been completely rational at that moment, I’d have been happy for her. I was her friend after all, right? I should have
wanted
her to find someone she could be happy with, someone who’d put a ring on her finger and give her a family.
So why was I having so much trouble keeping my shit together?
It was a moot point anyway. She’d already told me she was over her crush, so why would I think she’d even be interested?
Every time that Fletcher asshole turned around and shot Chloe a smile or a wink, I found myself clenching my hands into painfully tight fists.
All my friends call me Fletch
. What a douche. And what kind of name was
Fletch
anyway. I’ll tell you, it’s an asshole’s name. And that asshole just turned around and winked a-fucking-gain!
“Daddy?” I felt a poke on my arm but was still in too much of a murderous daze to register. “Dad!” The slap on my shoulder finally seemed to break the spell.
“Huh?” I turned to look at Eliza who was leaning past Chloe, the bucket of popcorn extended my way.
“You okay, Dad? I’ve been trying to get your attention for, like, two minutes.”
I pasted a fake smile on my face as I looked down at her. “I’m good, baby girl. Just focused on the game, I guess.”
She shrugged casually, never thinking to question me. “You want some popcorn? I’m full.”
I took the bucket from her, my smile turning genuine. “Thanks, honey.” As I pulled back, my arm brushed against the front of Chloe’s shirt, just a feather light touch of her breasts against my forearm, but it was enough to make my skin tingle and for her to suck in a sharp breath, sitting up straight at the contact. My eyes shot to hers to see her studying the play happening on the field with an intensity even the most avid football fans wouldn’t give a scrimmage game, and I couldn’t help but smile, because I knew, I
knew
she’d been affected by just the barest hint of my touch against her breasts.
“You okay?” I asked, trying to keep the lust from my voice. Christ, I’d barely gotten a feel, but I could still tell her tits were fantastic.
“Uh huh,” she nodded, not taking her eyes off the field.
Unable to resist, I leaned in a little closer, holding the bucket of popcorn in front of her. “Want to share?” I asked quietly, using the excuse of the loud crowd as reason to speak close to her ear.
“No thanks,” she turned to me and grinned, and I noted that it didn’t quite meet her eyes. It wasn’t until her whole body shivered and she hugged her arms tightly around her, that I noticed her normally peaches-and-cream complexion looked much paler than usual.
“Hey, you all right?” I asked, studying her face.
When she shook her head, sending those strawberry blonde curls ruffling in the breeze, I could smell the faintest hint of vanilla in the air. God, she always smelled like what she’d baked. It was enough to drive a man crazy. She shivered again, pulling my head out of the gutter. The sun had set, making the temperature outside comfortable, but seeing as it was still summer, it was impossible she could actually be cold. “I’m good. I just think I’m getting a little head cold or something. Nothing some over the counter meds won’t knock out.”
Reaching up, I placed my palm across her forehead, it was a parental instinct I’d acquired after Eliza was born. “Jesus, sunshine, you’re burning up.”
“I’m fine, really,” she replied, batting my hand away. “I’ll take some meds when I get home. I’ll be better by morning, I promise.”
“Hell no,” I objected, a strong protective feeling suddenly coursing through my blood. “You shouldn’t even be here right now. Come on.” Standing, I grabbed her by the arm and began to pull.
“What the hell are you doing?” She stared at me in shock, digging her little heels in indignantly. “I said I’m fine, Derrick. I’m not leaving until the game’s over.”
“What’s going on?” Harlow asked, our argument having drawn her attention.
“Can you watch Eliza? I’m taking Chloe home. She’s running a fever.”
“Oh for God’s sake,” she rolled her eyes and laughed obnoxiously. “I’m not running a fever. I’d think I’d know if I was really sick.” Another shiver.
Damn stubborn woman.
Harlow reached over and felt her forehead. “Uh, sorry to break it to you, sweetie, but you totally are. You shouldn’t have come if you weren’t feeling good, babe.”
“Okay, fine!” she relented,
finally
. “But there’s no need for you to leave,” she told me. “I drove myself here and am capable of getting myself home.”
“You shouldn’t drive when you’re sick, Miss Chloe. It’s not safe. Something could happen to you.” Eliza replied firmly, her face set sternly. I was suddenly contemplating letting her paint her room pink like she’d been begging to do for over a year.
“Honey, nothing’s going to happen to me,” Chloe smiled at her sweetly. “It’s just a head cold.
“What if you pass out?” Eliza railed.
“I’m not going to pass out. I promise.”
“What if you need to puke but can’t pull over in time?”
“I’m not going to puke.” I could have sworn Chloe was trying to stifle a laugh.
“But what if you
have
to all of a sudden? One of my friends at school felt
totally fine
, then just started puking out of nowhere! What if you do that?”
I wasn’t positive, but I thought all the talk of throwing up was making Chloe look a little green.
She threw her hands up in the air. “Okay, I give up. I’ll let your dad take me home, will that make you feel better?”
“Yep,” Eliza answered with a pleased smile, tossing a handful of popcorn in her mouth. Yeah, safe to say one of the rooms in my house was going to look like Pepto Bismol.
“You behave for Ms. Harlow,” I warned my daughter. “No going crazy, deal?”
“Deal.” Standing from the bench, she wrapped her arms around Chloe’s waist. “Hope you feel better, Miss Chloe.”
“Thank you, baby,” she said in a quiet voice. The tone of her voice and the way she ran her fingers through my daughter’s hair made something in my chest ache. It was a feeling I’d never experienced before, and I didn’t have a fucking clue how to deal with it.
“Feel better, hon,” Harlow said. “I’d hug you, but… you know, germs and stuff.”
“Love you too,” Chloe deadpanned as I placed my hand on the small of her back and began leading her away.
“This is ridiculous,” she grumbled as we made our way through the parking lot, still being stubborn even though her body had begun trembling. I thought I’d actually heard her teeth chatter. “I’m more that c-capable of d-driving my own c-car.”
“Uh huh,” was all I uttered in return. Watching her shake with fever next to me set something off inside me. I couldn’t stand the sight of her not feeling well, and despite all her arguing, how miserable she was feeling was written all over her pale face. That protective instinct I’d been feeling earlier boiled over at the sight of it and, without giving it any thought, I stopped moving long enough to hook my elbow behind her knees and haul her up into my arms.
“What are you doing!?” she yelped, her arms instinctively wrapping around my neck. “Put me down, I can walk!”
“Just humor me, okay?” I grunted, willing my body to behave at the same time my pants began to tighten uncomfortably. Yes, she was sick and I wanted to take care of her, but I couldn’t deny how amazing her lush little body felt in my arms just then. “You’re shaking like a leaf. Just let me help you.”
With an indignant huff, she stopped struggling and held on as I made my way to my truck. I placed her on her feet in order to retrieve my keys from my pocket and unlock the door, but something in me wasn’t ready to let her go just yet. So instead, I kept my arm locked firmly around her waist as I pressed the key fob and beeped the locks. I held on until the very last possible second when she climbed in and I was forced to lock the door. I knew I needed to get over whatever was happening right then, I just wasn’t sure how to do that. I was seeing her differently all of a sudden. I
felt
differently, despite the fact I was well aware nothing could
ever happen
between us.
It’s because she’s sick
, I kept telling myself.
“Thank you,” she whispered once I’d backed out of my spot and exited the parking lot.
“For what?” I asked, keeping my eyes on the road instead of looking at her like I wanted to do.
“Bringing me home. I could have asked Harlow to take me. I’m sorry you had to bail on Eliza.”
“Eliza adores the ground you walk on.” I caught myself smiling genuinely when I pictured my little girl’s face every time Chloe came into the room. “She probably would have thrown a raging tantrum if I let someone else take care of you.”
Chloe laughed and, despite being sick, the sound was still reminiscent of tinkling bells, just as it always was. I glanced over to see her head resting against the passenger window, her eyes closed. “She’s special, Derrick. You’re so lucky to have her.”
How Chloe felt about my daughter caused that squeeze in my chest to return ten-fold. For nine long years I’d hoped and prayed Layla would pull her head out of her ass and view the perfection that was our Eliza the way Chloe did. But as more time passed, I became increasingly worried that was never going to happen.
And I feared what that would do to Eliza.
How much more would she flourish with someone like Chloe in her life? I shook the thought out of my head as soon as it popped up.
“Thank you,” I replied, my voice sounding raspier than normal. “I know just how lucky I am to have her. And you’re welcome for the ride. I don’t like seeing you sick.”
Her voice was softer, more tired as she replied with four words… four words that left my stomach feeling sour… four words I thought I’d always be happy with, but for some unknown reason, had me white-knuckling the steering wheel.
“You’re a good friend.”
Why the hell did the word
friend
have me cringing like I’d just heard nails on a chalk board? And better yet, what the hell was going on in my head?
Derrick
AS ELIZA AND
I walked into Sinful Sweets the next morning, I went on instant red alert. Chloe wasn’t behind the counter. She hadn’t responded to any of my texts this morning asking how she was feeling, which was why I’d insisted on showing at the bakery for breakfast in the first place. Not that Eliza argued.
“Hey Erin,” I called, recognizing Chloe’s manager at the espresso machine.
“Deputy Anderson.” She gave me a shy, flirtatious smile that I’d usually feed off of, but she was Chloe’s employee and flirting back with her — even though it would have been completely harmless — just felt… wrong. Besides, my mind was fully focused on one thing, and one thing only.
“Is Chloe in the back?”
“Oh!” That seemed to have snapped Erin out of whatever she’d been thinking about that had her cheeks turning pink as she stared at me. “No, actually, she called in sick today,” The young woman’s forehead wrinkled as she frowned. “I think that might have been the first time she’s
ever
missed work. She must be feeling pretty terrible.
My gut twisted at the realization that Chloe must have been feeling worse than she was the night before. “Do you have a key to her place?” I asked the young manager. “I want to go check on her, see if she needs anything.”
“Oh, um… yeah, but it’s supposed to be just for emergencies. But I guess this constitutes as one, huh?”
“I’d say so. If she asks, I’ll just throw Harlow under the bus and say she let me in.”