"When I'm not just a challenge and a lasting emotion exists between us, with a band on my left hand, then I'll be ready and willing to be in your bed. Then you can show me everything." She smiled in the darkness. "Goodnight, Drew."
Swallowing to curb the heat engulfing him, he sighed. She wanted him to show her what she was missing. That he could do all night long.
Chapter 8
The next morning, her cell rang and Chloe answered it before she finished taking her measurements.
"Chloe, how are you?" Mrs. Gibson, one of her surrogate mothers asked. "I've been worried about your father. His color looks a little peaked. Is he feeling all right."
"As far as I know, he's fine," Chloe responded, wondering how to end this conversation as soon as possible. Right in the middle of designing a backsplash when her phone buzzed, she wished she hadn't answered.
"Watch over him. I'm concerned," she said.
"Always," she said. "He's all I have left."
"Yes, I understand." There was a lengthy pause and Chloe was about to tell her she had to hang up, when the real reason for the call came out.
"Dear, I hear you've been seeing Drew Lawrence. Your mother would not approve of you being associated with him. That man dates fast women and expects them to sleep with him on the first date."
A fire began to grow in Chloe. A small ember caught flame and rapidly consumed her. Why did the women in the congregation think who she dated was any of their business? She would see who she damn well pleased. And using her mother's memory, oh no.
"How do you know?"
"Well, that's what that type of man does. Those men switch women like they change underwear. A nice girl like you deserves someone better."
The rage burning inside her grew hotter by the minute. How could anyone evolve when people wouldn't let you become a better person?
"Tell me, who has he gone out with since he returned to Cupid?" Chloe asked, trying to keep her emotions out of her voice.
There was silence.
"No one besides you."
"Exactly. Did you ever consider he wants to be different? Drew is attending church."
"Just to get to you."
Chloe wanted to slam her phone down at the narrow mindedness of people. Drew would never change if the people wouldn't accept he no longer was the town gigolo.
"Now, Mrs. Gibson, how can you say that? We're not supposed to judge. Come to me with concrete facts, then we'll discuss Drew's antics."
"True, but that boy's a player and he's making a move on you. It seems like you're falling for him."
For a moment, she thought she was going to spew right there in the phone. The woman would not give up and mind her own business. Somehow, she had to accept the fact not everyone would be happy with her dating Drew, and frankly, she didn't give a fig.
"If it's the right move and he doesn't try to seduce me, then I think those are pretty good moves."
Silence echoed over the airwaves. "Did I tell you my nephew George is coming into town next week."
No way would Chloe go out with her relatives. The man might be the best-looking gentleman in the city and she would be busy cleaning her toilets that night because of his aunt.
"Wonderful. Shame I already have plans with Drew."
At that moment, Drew walked in the door carrying lunch. As he came through the door, smiling, he waved with his arms loaded down with sacks. Right now, he looked like a knight in shining armor with his hands filled with food.
"Thanks for the call, Mrs. Gibson. Drew just came in, bringing me lunch. What a kind man. See you this Sunday."
Chloe hung up, seething mad. People could be so unforgiving.
"Problems?"
"One of the nosy surrogate mothers wanting me to go out with her nephew and warning me about you."
Laughing, he said, "And it sounds like you set her straight."
"You bet I did. Nosy old biddy."
After setting the food down, Drew came to her and wrapped his arms around her and kissed her on the lips, sending a shiver down her spine. The image of them sprawled on top of her car and how far they'd gone the night before had her pressing against him.
For the first time in her life, she'd actually desired to be with a man. Every day, she fell a little more for Drew. Every day he did unexpected things that made her realize he was a great man. A man deserving of love.
They broke apart, both breathing heavily as she stared into emerald eyes that reminded her of forests and evergreen trees. The man was handsome as sin on a stick and she was finding it harder and harder to deny she wanted him.
"Lunchtime," he said. "If you have time, we might go over some of the samples of tile and help me choose."
"Thank you. Why are you always so thoughtful?"
He gave her a quick kiss on the tip of the nose. "Because I like doing things for you. It makes me feel good. There is something so sexy hearing you defend me, which makes me hot."
A rush of warmth went through Chloe and she wondered again why she refused to have sex with this man. "Thanks, Drew, one of the biggest ways to show a woman you love or care for her is to put her needs first. You do that very well."
Grinning at her, he said, "I try. Now, let's eat this meal I picked up and then get started picking out the tile. I'm ready to move in here."
Chloe pushed Mrs. Gibson's call from her mind and quickly laid out their spread. More and more, she wanted this man. At this moment, she was almost ready to throw caution to the wind and sleep with Drew.
But again, her practical side reminded her, not yet.
Two days later, Drew stepped into the local bank to tend to business regarding his construction loan. As he strolled into the old building, he noticed a group of people surrounding a man down on the floor.
Walking up to the teller, he tried to figure out what was happening.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"Reverend Kilian fainted dead away. They're trying to revive him," she said, a worried expression on her face.
Drew cursed, his heart leaping into his chest. "Excuse me, he's my girlfriend's father."
Rushing to where Chloe's father lay sprawled on his back, Drew noted his breathing was labored, his color white. Fear gripped Drew's stomach as he gazed at the man. Uncaring, he moved people aside to kneel beside him.
"Reverend, wake up," he called close to his ear.
"He's out," a woman said, wringing her hands. "An ambulance is on the way."
"Good," Drew said and lifted the man's hand checking his pulse. A steady beat pumped beneath his thumb, which relieved him.
Shaking the older man's shoulder, he attempted to arouse him. "Reverend, it's Drew."
The man groaned and blinked his eyes a couple of times. "Drew?"
"You're in the bank. You passed out. Do you hurt?"
The man moaned and his eyes fluttered shut. This didn't look good. Yes, the man was sick, but hopefully he had months. Time that Drew needed him here, helping him, guiding him with regards to Chloe.
The ambulance pulled up outside, lights and sirens sounding. In less than a minute, a very capable paramedic moved everyone back. Drew made room for him.
"How long has he been out?" the paramedic asked, leaning down beside him, putting his stethoscope to his chest.
"About five minutes the second time. For a moment, he opened his eyes and responded, calling me by name before he went out again," Drew said, thinking he must find Chloe.
The paramedic took his vitals and turned to Drew. "We're taking him to the hospital. From this initial exam, his lungs sound congested and he needs medical attention. Do you know his next of kin?"
"Yes, I'll pick up his daughter and meet you at the emergency room," Drew said, rising.
The time for her father to tell her the truth arrived in the form of a trip in an ambulance. Even if the old man still had time, she needed to learn about her father's illness and prepare for his eventual death. A process he didn't envy her one bit. A process where he would
be beside her the entire way.
"Thanks," the paramedic said, standing, making room for the stretcher.
Drew hurried out the door, his business all but forgotten. Jumping in his car, he tried to remain calm while he drove the two blocks to Chloe's house.
Yes, the old man was dying of pancreatic cancer, but he hadn't told Chloe. The man wanted her engaged or married before he died. That was his wish and he patiently waited on Drew.
Drew recognized he wasn't ready to ask Chloe to marry him. Only two weeks ago, they agreed to see each other and now he felt pressure to take their relationship to the next level. He had no clue what that entailed.
To ask for her hand in marriage and promise her a ring and forever sent panic radiating through his body. Enough for him to consider bolting back to Dallas. Yet, he didn't want to leave Chloe to face this alone. And there was his agreement to date the pastor’s daughter.
Pulling up in front of his grandmother's house, he saw her truck sitting in the driveway. Leaving the car on, he jumped out and sprinted up the steps to the inside.
"Chloe," he yelled.
Coming around the entrance to the kitchen, she stared at him. "Drew, what's wrong."
"Drop your tools and come with me. They've taken your dad to the hospital."
"Oh no," she ran back and grabbed her purse. Seconds later, they were out the door and she closed and locked it behind them.
"What happened," she said, almost running to the car.
"Your father collapsed at the bank this morning. When I came in, he was prostrate on the ground. The ambulance had been called by the time I arrived."
"Is he all right?"
How could he answer this question? Her father should tell her what was going on, not Drew. At this moment, he needed to support her and hope this was a portent for her father to be honest with his daughter.
"I don't know. The paramedics took him to the hospital. The man told me it sounded like his lungs were congested, but they weren't taking any chances. When they wheeled him out the door, he was on oxygen. That's when I came to get you."
Biting her lip, she was quiet the short distance to the small town's hospital.
"He can't leave me," she finally said. "Not now."
Drew reached over and took her hand and squeezed it tightly. What could you say that would bring someone comfort when they had no idea what they were about to face?
An ache centered in his chest at the pain he knew she would soon be facing and he wanted to protect, console, and help her deal with the grieving. No matter what, he wanted to be there for Chloe.
For over three hours, her father lay in the emergency room before they decided to admit him. Now, she waited for him to be transferred to his room. Hopefully, soon she would have an opportunity to talk to the doctor and ask questions.
When they wheeled him past her down the hall toward his room, she couldn't help but think how old he appeared. White hair stuck to his head and his skin a pasty pale, he'd never looked so bad. Fear gripped her stomach and rose in her throat.
At fifty-nine, she didn't consider him that old. Already her mother had left her, if he died, she would be alone.
Taking a deep breath, she released her anxiety. A simple case of chest congestion, nothing to worry about. Something that a dose of antibiotics wouldn’t cure. Chiding herself, she tried to calm her irrational panic. Her father would be around to bounce his grandbabies on his knee. God would never be so cruel as to take him from her.
Following his stretcher, Drew held her hand as they walked behind. Once they were in the room, they moved him onto the bed, then the nurses came in and checked his vital signs.
Soon, the room emptied, but for her and Drew. Walking to his side, the rhythmic sound of the machines comforting and disturbing at the same time, she grabbed her father's hand.
"Dad, why didn't you tell me you were feeling bad?"
"It just happened," he said, gazing at her, his face a sickly shade of white. "Standing in line at the bank and the next thing I know, Drew is kneeling beside me. The doctor told me I have pneumonia."
Chloe sighed, remembering Mrs. Gibson's call warning her that her father looked bad. Could something else be wrong or did he need to slow down. There was no way she could think that something serious might be amiss with him.
"You've been working too hard. You need more rest."
"If I slow down, I might die," he said with a smile.
"If you don't, you'll die and leave me," she said squeezing his hand. "I want you here, Daddy."
She hadn't called her father daddy since she was a young kid and the words brought tears to his eyes.
His voice choked up. "Chloe, we all go to be with the Father. My time will come and I don't know the hour."
"Not yet," she said. "You're middle age and I need you here."
As much as they argued over her choice of career, the men she dated, and the fact she wasn't in church every time the doors opened, didn't mean she didn't love him. While she tried to make a life of her own, she still adhered to the basic principles of her upbringing.
Being a preacher's daughter was not easy. Each time she screwed up in life, the whole congregation learned and someone ran to tell her father.
The tattle telling grew old. Their interference was the main reason she had taken a step back from the parish, only showing up on Sunday.
"Sometimes we don't get what we want. Honey, if it's my time to go, then at least I'll be joining your mother. This is why I've been praying you would find a man. Before I die, I want to walk you down the aisle and hand you over to your husband. Maybe even hold my grandchildren. I'm not going anywhere until the good Lord says come home."
Smiling at him, she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Rest, Daddy. Rest and get better."
"Yes, you go home. All day you had to sit out in that waiting room." He turned to Drew. "Thank you for your help today. Take care of my daughter."
A strange look passed from her father to Drew and she turned and glanced at them both. Why did there seem to be this weird communication, especially when her father didn't even like Drew and would prefer that she didn't see him.
"No problem, sir. I'll make certain Chloe gets home," he said.
"One less thing for me to worry about," her father said.
How would her father react if he knew that she had bumped into Drew dancing naked around the Cupid statue? According to the legend he was her true love. What a tangled web and yet she didn't want her father concerned about anything but getting well.
For her, Drew had once again gone above and beyond, helping her father and racing to find her and staying at her side while she stood by for three hours for her father to be moved from the ER to a room. Drew sat right beside her, calming her when she started to become overwhelmed.
The man was winning her heart and proving to her he was not only a good man, but her man. Chloe wanted to sleep with Drew. The desire between them felt explosive, but she still felt uncertain. The man was a player. Maybe a reformed player that she was rapidly falling for. Should she take a chance on Drew?
Chapter 9
Uneasiness slithered up Drew's spine. Two weeks had passed since Chloe's father's bout of pneumonia and the man now rested at home. Chloe had invited Drew over to her house for supper, telling him she wanted to fix spaghetti and hating to fix a huge pot for herself.
Together, they had laughed and talked while eating the delicious pasta and even had a couple of glasses of wine. The whole atmosphere seemed like a seduction and that's what made him a little nervous.
Not that he didn't want to bed Chloe. Oh no, he had dreams of the two of them together, wrapped in each other’s arms, her moaning and him plunging deeply within her. Only, he woke up, his breathing harsh, his dick hard and pulsating in his lonely bed.
Yes, he wanted Chloe, but he also wanted to be a different man. Not the man whore he was known for, but rather a good man who felt uncertain about marriage and forever after. There was no way to
get one without the other and was where his confusion stemmed from.
"Dishes are in the dishwasher," she said, sinking down beside him. "Thanks for coming over and letting me cook. Occasionally, I have these spurts of domestication. Not often, so I need to take advantage of them when they occur."
Wanting her closer, he put his arm around the back of her couch and pulled her into his side. "You're a domestic goddess. Let me know the next time you want to cook. I'll buy the groceries."
Laughing, she smiled at him. "Hardly. There is nothing better than a home cooked meal."
She picked up a remote and music played in the background.
Was he being tested or was she honestly trying to seduce him? Either way, he knew he was too weak to sustain an advanced assault. Still, if he remained true to the Drew he was becoming, he would never let her entice him now.
Her hand reached over and pulled his head down to meet her lips. The press of her soft mouth over his own, intoxicating and sweet as his body reacted to the rush of pleasure. Pushing her down on the sofa, he lay on top of her.
The crush of her breasts hard against his chest with only their clothes separating them was almost his undoing. While his analytical brain began to give him the odds on his chances of taking her virginity, his mouth continued to evoke moans from her.
Just one touch was all he needed and he would break away. Just a chance to run his fingertips along the satin creaminess of her breast, the hard ridges of her nipple. All he wanted was something to add to his tortured dreams and then he would stop. But not yet.
Reaching beneath her blouse, his fingers shoved her bra out of the way, searching for the full roundness of her breast. The silkiness of her skin, the ripe fullness of her bust and he moaned knowing he should cease, but not ready to. Just a little more.
Pressing his hardened dick into her mound, she groaned and broke their kiss.
"Drew," she gasped.
Now she would tell him to stop. With every caress, he waited for her signal and now she would tell him enough.
Cupid's Heart: Western Contemporary Small Town Romance (Return to Cupid Book 6) Page 9
