Where the Heart Is (6 page)

Sara and Tori couldn't stop giggling, and now Hayden was laughing.

“Since no one can seem to get the story out,” Derek said, “suffice it to say, my first pony ride ended with a dunk in the pool.”

The laughter grew. Hayden sucked in a breath. “The whole thing was perfectly captured on film. Derek freaking out on the back of the smallest pony in the yard. Then the pony cantering off toward the pool. Everyone laughing—or yelling, in Mom and Dad's case—and then the pony screeching to a halt beside the pool while Derek lost his seat and fell in.”

Chloe laughed along with them, but then stopped abruptly. “Wait a minute. He could've gotten really hurt.”

Liam shrugged. “We were ten. Think that mattered to Kyle?” He eyed Chloe closely. “You must be an only child.”

“I'm not.” And she also understood why ten-year-olds didn't think about what could happen if they put a frightened kid on an animal, let alone next to a pool. She looked at Derek. “At least tell me you knew how to swim.”

“Sure.”

“But he faked like he didn't,” Tori said, her blue-green eyes gleaming. “He screamed and thrashed, freaked everyone out, even the cameraman. At least twenty different people jumped into the pool to save him. Kyle got in so much trouble.”

Realization dawned on Chloe. She grinned at Derek. “You knew perfectly well what you were doing.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his smile radiating a sexy slice of pride. “Of course.”

Chloe laughed. “What happened to Kyle?”

“He had to give him the hundred dollars out of his pay from that episode,” Sara said, having recovered herself.

“Which my mother made me and Kyle donate to the local animal shelter,” Derek said with mock annoyance.

“And after that, they became friends.” Sara smiled at Derek in a wholly sisterly fashion. “Best friends.”

Chloe moved closer to Derek, feeling a surge of pride for the boy who'd held his own amongst this formidable group.

“I think that's just about enough of memory lane,” Derek said, uncrossing his arms and touching Chloe's shoulder. “Do you want something to drink?”

“Sure, a glass of red wine would be great.”

He dropped a brief kiss on her forehead and left.

“And there goes the Golden Boy,” Evan said. “It's no wonder Kyle left.” As if realizing he'd said something he shouldn't have, Evan glanced down before muttering, “Excuse me,” and then disappeared in the same direction as his mother.

“Evan's a bit shy,” Tori said. “He'll come back out later.”

Shy and perhaps in possession of a faulty filter. She wouldn't hold it against him; she knew plenty of people, her mother for one, who simply couldn't keep their opinions to themselves. Chloe found herself very curious about the friendship between Derek and Kyle and how things had turned sour. She turned to Hayden because he seemed the friendliest so far. “Why did Evan call him the Golden Boy?”

“Because Derek's the best of the Archer children,” Liam said. “Well, along with Hayden, the jerk.” He lifted his drink in salute to his younger brother.

“But Derek's not an Archer, is he?” Chloe suddenly wondered if he was some long-lost bastard child or something. Maybe that was why he hadn't told her much about the Archers. But that was silly. He hadn't told her much because they'd only met a few days ago.

Liam sipped his drink. “No, he's not, but he might as well be. Of all of us, he has the most drive, the most ambition. Makes Dad so proud. And more than a little perturbed with us.”

Hayden shook his head. “Right, because you're all a bunch of wannabes. Tori with her globe-trotting job, Evan with his degrees, Sara with her successful event-planning business, and you on your way to owning half of Denver. Whatever.”

All of that faded into the background as Chloe focused on what Liam had said. “Derek's ambitious?” To do what, be fire chief?

Liam lifted one shoulder. “Sure. How else do you become CFO at twenty-seven?”

Derek was a CFO?

“Nepotism?” Tori offered as she brought her glass of wine to her lips.

Several of them chuckled.

“Smart-ass,” Hayden said with a touch of heat. His eyes had darkened and she sensed his defenses had kicked up. “Derek and I work our butts off. We've earned our positions.”

“Isn't Derek a firefighter?” Chloe asked, feeling rather stupid and hating it.

“Volunteer,” Sara clarified. “Most of them are because we're so rural out here. Did you think that was his job?”

That, and part-time serving at the pub, which he apparently only did because he was CFfreakingO and the pub had been shorthanded. Driven? Check. Ambitious? Sounded like it. Married to multiple jobs, including volunteer gigs? Hell yes. Exactly like Ed. Exactly the type of guy she'd bailed on marrying. Why hadn't Derek told her about his real job? Add that to the fact that he was apparently supposed to have offered her a permanent place to live and she had to wonder what sort of game he was playing. The warmth that had nestled into her chest since she'd entered the Archers' home dissipated and was replaced with a cold disappointment.

“Will you excuse me?” She leaned toward Sara and Tori, who were standing beside each other. “Where can I freshen up?”

“There's a powder room down the north gallery,” Tori said, pointing to the left.

“Or, you could go downstairs,” Sara suggested, her blue eyes crinkling as she offered a small smile. “There are bathrooms at either end of the hallway down there.”

“Thanks.” Chloe flashed a smile she didn't feel. “Nice to meet all of you. I'm sure I'll see you later.”

“What about Derek?” Hayden asked as she turned.

She looked back over her shoulder. “Tell him I'll find him in a bit.”

She just needed a few minutes to collect her thoughts. And decide if she really wanted to take a chance on another career-minded alpha dog instead of a family-oriented hot firefighter/pub server. Oh, how she wished that's who he was.

 

 

D
EREK WALKED
down the stairs juggling his and Chloe's wineglasses. When he'd returned from the bar, Hayden had informed him that Chloe had left after learning that he was CFO at Archer. She'd seemed weirded out, but Hayden couldn't fathom why. And neither could Derek. After determining she wasn't in the upstairs powder room, he'd come downstairs to find her.

Later, the party would overflow down here to the bar and pool table or to play poker in the gaming alcove. But for now, it was empty. There were two bathrooms she could use, and he didn't really want to stalk her, so he went to the curved bar and dropped off the wineglasses.

After waiting a few minutes, he heard a noise behind him. Turning, he went into the sole bedroom on this floor—his.

Chloe stood inside, her eyes wide as she surveyed his trophies, posters of the
Lord of the Rings
movies, and the bulletin board stuck with various photographs from his younger years, most of which featured the Archers.

“This is your room,” she said, not taking her eyes from the bulletin board.

“Yes. I came to live with the Archers when I was seventeen, after my mom died.”

She turned to look at him. Her hazel eyes were dark, her features tense. “I'm so sorry. I didn't realize you lost your mother when you were so young. But then, I guess there's a lot I don't know about you, Mr. CFO.”

“Is that a big deal?” he asked, moving farther into the room.

“I thought you were a firefighter. And that you worked in a pub.”

He couldn't keep the small smile from his mouth. “And that's better?”

She shrugged. “Maybe. You're just not quite who I thought you were. You're a super successful guy from a huge, apparently very wealthy family.” She looked back at the posters. “Are those really signed by Peter Jackson?”

Derek glanced down, feeling more than a bit self-conscious. He was hyperaware that he was one lucky son of a bitch to have landed in a family like the Archers. “Yeah. He likes Rob's beer.”

She shook her head. “That's . . . crazy. You're definitely not what I thought.”

Derek moved toward her until he could reach out and touch her if he wanted. But he wasn't sure she was ready for that. There was something between them now. Something he didn't understand. “What did you think I was?”

She looked up at him, their eyes connecting. “A firefighter. A server. A simple guy. I . . . I liked that.”

“I'm a volunteer firefighter and an occasional server and bartender. And I'm a CFO. I'm still a pretty simple guy.”

“Are you? They said you were driven, that you work really hard.”

Derek's hackles started to rise. “And that's a bad thing?”

She shook her head swiftly. “Not at all. It's just . . .” She looked away again. “I'm sorry, this is me, not you.”

“The old ‘it's not you, it's me' speech? Sorry, I'm not buying it. There's too much of a connection here for us to ignore it.” He moved a bit closer and tentatively touched her jaw with the tips of his fingers. “Or am I wrong?”

“You're not,” she said, their gazes locking once more. “It
is
me. Six months ago I broke up with a guy just like you. Very successful, ambitious.”

He tamped down a blast of jealousy by reminding himself that she'd dumped the jerk. But the emotion was replaced by a wave of insecurity. “‘Just' like me? How do you know?”

“I guess I don't, not for sure. But I'm not interested in a relationship with someone who's driven by their career, who works ridiculously long hours. Status means nothing to me.”

He withdrew his hand from her face. “Whoa, status? Just because I lived here,” he spread his arms out at the oversized bedroom, just one of many in this house, “doesn't mean I give a shit about that either. I work hard because that's the way I was raised. I love my job, but it doesn't define me.”

Chloe blinked at him. She seemed a little speechless.

He dropped his arms and exhaled. “Sorry, but you can't make those kinds of assumptions. Yes, I'm successful, and yes, I'm ambitious. But I'm also lucky enough to be able to pursue those things where I want to be and with people I respect and admire.”

Her gaze softened. “You are lucky. And I love that you know that.”

“So what does that mean?”

“It means I'm kind of dumb.” She blushed. “And judgy. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lumped you in with Ed.”

“Ed?”

“My ex. He's mostly interested in being successful so that he can buy the Mercedes he really wants or so he can buy a house in Mount Lebanon.”

“Mount Lebanon?”

She made a face. “
The
place to live in Pittsburgh, according to Ed.”

“Pardon me, but he sounds like kind of a douche.”

She laughed. “You see why I called off the wedding.”

“You were
engaged
?” He realized there were a ton of things he didn't know about her either and relaxed about her reaction to his job. Maybe they'd felt such a strong connection that they'd both thought they knew each other better than they did. Which was silly. They needed to take this a bit slower.

“Let's back up,” he said. He took a step back and held out his hand. “Hi, I'm Derek Sumner. I'm the CFO for Archer Enterprises. I started working for them after I graduated from Williver College. My mom died when I was in high school and I came to live here with the Archers, and I consider them my family.”

Chloe shook his hand. “I'm Chloe English. My parents are rather, uh, concerned with their place in Pittsburgh society, which I find exceedingly dull. I graduated from Carnegie Mellon with a degree in design. I'm the middle kid—older brother, younger sister—and I've never quite felt like I fit in. So, I moved out here to find my own place, but, well, you know the rest.” The light in her eyes dimmed and she looked away.

He moved closer, running his fingertips down her bicep. “Hey, don't think about the fire. Not tonight.”

“It's not that.” She looked up at him and blinked. “Okay, it is that, but not for the reasons you think. Do you have a vacant house?”

Shit.
The house. He should've broached the subject immediately. “Yes,” he said slowly. “I was going to offer it to you tonight.”

Her eyes were guarded. “You're not just saying that because I brought it up?”

“No.” He wrapped his hands around her shoulders. “Listen, Chloe, I really like you. My house is . . . it's complicated. I'm thinking of selling it, but for now it's a good place for you to land.”

She was quiet a moment, but didn't shrink from his touch. “What's the rent? I'm on a tight budget.”

“I know. Pay whatever you were paying over on McMurtry.”

Her eyes widened briefly and she shook her head once. “I don't want your pity.”