Chapter Twenty-one
Chloe had no idea what to do when she got home, other than stop calling this little house “home” and start packing. A flight to Miami could be booked in minutes, and her two suitcases’ worth of clothes packed in under an hour, so leaving Bitter Bark was way too easy.
But she moved like she was walking in quicksand.
She hadn’t been there three weeks yet, an incredibly short assignment for her. There was no real reason to feel quite this attached, other than the fact that she’d picked up a lover and a temporary dog.
Feeling out of sorts, Chloe walked from the living room into the kitchen, down the hall to the bedroom, back to the other guest room, and then did the whole loop over again. Daisy stayed on her heels, loyal to the end, and probably confused as hell.
“I’m confused, too,” she admitted to Daisy, ending up in the kitchen. “I guess I have two options.”
Daisy barked twice, then flattened herself on the floor, as if dying to hear what they are.
“No, not ‘stay’ or ‘go,’” Chloe said. “Chocolate or wine, those are my options. Let’s go with wine. You’ll have no interest in it.”
She pulled out an open bottle of white she and Shane had shared for dinner last night and grabbed a wineglass from the drainboard.
And suddenly she froze.
She’d done that. She’d put that glass there. She’d washed it by hand because it was too delicate for the dishwasher and…put it on the drainboard.
She hadn’t thought about it. Hadn’t debated or struggled or tried to do something so normal. But she hadn’t put it in the cupboard.
A sense of victory washed over her, as potent and dizzying as if she’d slugged the rest of the wine directly from the bottle.
And, hell, another few weeks and she might.
Maybe you should find a reason to stay.
Aunt Blanche’s words came back to her.
“Maybe I just did.”
Suddenly, Daisy jumped up and barked, trotting to the living room door, announcing Shane’s arrival. Should she tell him? Should she share this? Would that be normal or a little weird? Would he understand the magnitude of a glass on the drainboard?
Gingerly putting both glass and bottle on the counter, she went to the door to let him in.
Daisy leaped on him first, of course, licking his cheeks with abandon because she knew Shane loved that greeting. Chloe? Not so much. But the way things were going, Daisy might be licking her face soon, too. Change was in the air. Normal was in the air.
“Hi.” He looked up from the tongue bath, something in his eyes she’d never seen before and couldn’t begin to interpret. “I heard about the vote.”
Oh, it was sympathy. “Yeah, I lost before I even got a chance to try.”
“You okay?” He straightened and looked at her, absently touching his face. “Let me wash that off.”
“No.” She grabbed his shoulders. “No, you don’t have to.”
“But I want to—”
“Kiss me.” She yanked him closer and lifted up to get her mouth on his, but he jerked back.
“You don’t like to kiss me after Daisy did.”
“But that’s not…normal.” She gripped him. “I want to kiss you. Right on the mouth for about an hour and a half.”
That very mouth kicked up in a half smile. “Okay. Losing is the new muddin’? Turns you on?”
No, he turned her on. Being normal turned her on. Life with him turned her on.
“Or you need consolation?”
“I need…you.” She pulled him closer, finally getting that kiss, which was sweet and tender, but maybe a little more tentative than she’d expected. No, definitely more tentative.
She broke the contact, easing back to search his face for clues. Something was definitely wrong. “What’s the matter, Shane?”
“Marie wants Daisy back,” he said softly. “Tomorrow morning, if possible.”
She let that settle over her, the second blow to her happiness in a few hours. “That’s sooner than you expected, right?”
“She got upgraded to a lighter boot, and she’s more mobile. Misses Daisy like crazy.”
Daisy came closer and panted, as if she instinctively knew she was the subject of the conversation.
“Who wouldn’t? I sure will.” Chloe reached down and gave Daisy’s head a rub, getting her hand licked in gratitude.
“Hey.” He took her chin and brought her face back up to his. “Where were we?”
No, the question was…where are we? But she didn’t have the nerve to ask. Maybe…later. “We were here.” She rose up to kiss him again.
No longer tentative, he angled his head and deepened the kiss, wrapping her tighter against him. “I’m covered with dirt, Chloe,” he murmured, kissing her neck and already coasting his magical hands over her breasts and waist and hips.
“Just the way I like you.” She doubled down on that statement by pulling at his T-shirt, tugging it up to get her hands on slightly sweaty, incredibly sexy skin. “Dirty Shame, take me to bed.”
“Perfect Chloe, you’ve lost your mind.”
She drew back, grabbing a handful of his muscles. “Don’t you see? That’s just it. I haven’t lost my mind. That’s my deepest fear, my greatest stumbling block, the reason I…I…put everything in the cupboard and not on the drainboard.”
He laughed, shaking his head. “You’re losing me, baby.”
She pulled him in. “But I don’t want to.” Pressing her face against his solid shoulder, she bit back the sting of tears, a well of emotions so rich and complicated making her cling for dear life. “I don’t want to lose you, Shane.”
Very slowly, he tangled his fingers in her hair, cupping her head possessively and lifting her face to his. “I’m yours for the night.”
For the night. For the night.
Didn’t that tell her everything she needed to know?
She didn’t have time to wrestle with that reality, because he kissed her so thoroughly and so deeply that the world spun out for a moment. Closing her arms around him, she let him guide her to the bedroom, barely feeling the floor beneath her feet on the way.
By the time they got there, half her clothes were in the hall. He kicked the door closed to keep Daisy out and guided Chloe to the bed, yanking his shirt off, stripping off his shorts, and helping her pull her cutoffs all the way off.
She wanted to slow down, to savor and taste, but this was different than any other time. This was a little desperate, a little frantic, a little…like the end.
She swallowed that thought and arched her back, concentrating on the delicious roughness of his palms over her breasts, shooting sparks and pleasure down her whole body. They rocked against each other, touching and kissing and not saying a word, not even a whisper of please or yes or more.
But she wanted to. Words bubbled up and echoed in her head. Every time she opened her mouth, he suckled her or caressed her or nibbled on a bit of her that melted in his mouth. The words lodged and seemed…daunting.
So while he laid her back and sheathed himself, she let the words sing in her head.
I want more than tonight.
He stroked her breasts and kissed the words silent.
I want it all.
He entered her with a fierce, furious thrust.
I love you. I love you. I love you.
Not trusting herself to not cry that out, lost in the glorious sensations that electrified her, Chloe bit her lip and choked back the confession. She rocked against him with a timeless, natural, perfect rhythm that rose and built and quaked them both.
Shane lost it first, bringing her with him, both of them shuddering with an exquisite release that lasted so long it almost hurt.
But she hadn’t said a word. Not those words. Now, there was nothing but long, ragged, exhausted breaths and silence.
Absolute silence.
It sounded an awful lot like…the end.
* * *
Shane stared at
the grass where Daisy was digging and sniffing and felt the familiar weight of a sadness he’d known since childhood. It came with the territory, and now Chloe would feel it.
Saying goodbye to a dog who’d stolen your heart was one of the hardest things he’d ever learned as a kid. Never really learned how to do it right, but knew that it was a helluva lot better to say so long to one that was going to a happy home than one that was dying.
And saying goodbye to a person?
Well, guess he would find out soon enough. He half expected to wake up to find her packing this morning, ready to run off to some Caribbean island and help those people do what Bitter Bark wouldn’t let her do. Maybe she’d meet a guy there and—
“I decided to go.”
He whipped around and took in the sight of Chloe in work clothes, which was almost, but not quite, as good as Chloe in no clothes. She wore a crisp red and white dress as narrow as a pencil with a tiny, shiny red belt around the middle.
So she didn’t mean go with him to take Daisy home to Marie.
“I feel like I should be at the town meeting even if there isn’t a vote. If nothing else, I need to support my aunt Blanche when she makes her resignation speech.”
“I get that. I know my whole family is going.”
She blinked at that. “Are you?”
He threw a look at Daisy. “I promised Marie I’d bring Daisy back this morning.”
“Um…what is she doing?” Chloe asked, her gaze following his. “Why is she rolling?”
“Dead snake? Maybe that mouse carcass? Something she wants to smell like.”
She snorted softly. “Is that why she stinks after she’s been out here?”
“Wow, have you changed when it comes to dogs. And…everything.”
“I guess Marie won’t mind if she shows up stinking like Eau de Snake. I usually use the hose, shampoo, and a big bucket.”
Kind of like the shower they’d taken last night after sex, only nothing could have been as wet and intimate and cleansing as that. They’d skipped dinner and fallen asleep in each other’s arms, both of them struggling with the inevitable goodbye.
Well, better start with this one. “I need to get on the road,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “So, this is your, uh, goodbye.”
The slightest bit of color faded from Chloe’s cheeks, leaving behind the soft powder blush she’d added when she put on makeup this morning. “With Daisy.”
“I’m not going to live with Miz Marie.”
She gave a soft laugh. “I could conceivably take a flight out this afternoon, following the meeting.”
It hit like a sucker punch. “Would you do that?”
Swallowing hard, she looked at him. “What’s the point of staying?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
“What other way is there to put it, Shane? This has been…” She shrugged and let out a sigh that came from somewhere deep and bittersweet. “Fun seems like an understatement.”
“Ya think?” He knew he sounded hurt, but he was the one who’d said for the night when she told him she didn’t want to lose him. He was the one who’d held back every tender endearment and wretched confession while they made love. He was the one who was flat-out terrified of losing.
Of losing her.
Which was why he would.
As if sensing the tension, Daisy came bounding over, dirt on her paws and around her mouth, her gaze pinned on Chloe. These two had both fallen for each other. Chloe brushed some hair off her face, hooking the strands over her ears as she looked down at the dog.
“You…” she whispered. “You really shouldn’t have done that, you know?” There was no condemnation in her voice, nothing but love. Still, Daisy looked uncertain, knowing she shouldn’t have rolled in dead things. “You shouldn’t have stolen my heart.”
Somehow, Shane managed to smile.
But Chloe hitched up her skirt, high on her thighs, so she could crouch down in front of the dog. Reaching both hands to Daisy’s face, she stroked behind her ears.
“But you did,” she said softly, holding Daisy’s head with the skill and comfort of someone who had no fear of dogs or dirt. “You sneaked into my life when I wasn’t looking and changed everything. You kissed me when it was the last thing I thought I wanted. You gave me ideas and took me on walks and taught me to conquer my biggest hang-ups. You got on my bed and made me want to spend every single day and night with you.” Her voice cracked with a sob as she collapsed onto the ground and pulled Daisy right into her chest, snuggling her with two arms wrapped around the dog’s neck.
Shane tried to breathe, but her words stole any chance of getting air.
Finally, she looked up at Shane, a mascara-stained tear running down a face of pure misery as she whispered into Daisy’s floppy ear. “I love you.”
I love you, too.
The words lodged in his throat like a dry bone, choking him.
Was it even possible? Could she ever say those things to him and not Daisy? Maybe she had, and he was simply…paralyzed with fear.
She kissed Daisy’s head and then bent her own, no doubt the way she’d seen Shane do a hundred times, in complete submission, offering her hair and neck and cheeks for a tongue bath.
And got one.
“Now you be good,” she said again.
Daisy answered by lifting both paws to Chloe’s shoulders and dragging them down, leaving paths of filth on her white dress. Chloe didn’t even flinch. “I’ll never forget you,” she murmured into fur that had to smell rank. “Goodbye, sweetheart.”
She kissed Daisy again, then pushed herself up, looking down at the dirt marks on her chest. “I have to change,” she said, wiping at the tears streaking her cheek.
“I’m pretty sure I just witnessed the most a person could ever change.”
She smiled and reached up, touching his cheek. “Thank you for giving me Daisy. Even if it was for a short time, I’ll never forget her.” She stroked her thumb under his lips. “Or you.”
Turning, she headed back into the house, leaving him to stand in the sun with Daisy, his heart shifting as some old pain melted away and made room for a whole different kind of loss.
Unless he changed, too.
Chapter Twenty-two
Bushrod Square was almost empty. On a summer weekday morning, there were no Vestal Valley College students milling about, and most of the residents or owners of shops had poured into the assembly room in the Bitter Bark Town Hall.
Chloe took the longest way possible around the square to soak up the midsummer morning in one of her favorite places, her heels clicking with satisfaction on the brick pavement. She waved to Betsy, the lady who walked Jackson, that friendly golden she’d met while having lunch with Shane, and stopped to take one more picture of the not bitter bark tree because it looked majestic in the morning sun. Even the distant sound of the trash truck coming into town filled her with a sense of home and normalcy.
Goodbye, sweet town. There’s nothing bitter about you. Well, most of you.
As she reached Ashland Real Estate Company, she curled her lip at the idea of Dave Ashland taking over Aunt Blanche’s job as mayor. Would he sit on his phone for the entire town council meeting? Would he have any better ideas to help Bitter Bark?
As she reached a tiny side street that ran perpendicular to Bushrod Avenue, she heard a loud clang that startled her out of her thoughts, making her turn to look down what was really a small alley. It served as a passway between this street and the next behind the buildings, but Chloe had never ventured down because there was a dumpster in there, and she avoided them at all costs.
But it was the dumpster that had made that clang—or rather something that had been tossed into the dumpster. She couldn’t make out a person, but someone was on the other side heaving black Hefty bags into the trash, and they must have contained metal.
Something else went over the side. A small can?
Just as she was about to look away, she saw a lar
ge figure step out from behind the dumpster. A man who had to have been crouching behind it to throw things away.
Was that Dave Ashland? What was he doing? She squinted into the shadows formed by the buildings on either side, catching a glimpse of him heaving an arm full of papers, flipping them over the top of the dumpster so that a few fluttered like white rain. One floated into the alley, and he ran after it, seemingly frantic, grabbed it, and wadded it up, shooting it in with the rest of the trash.
He stepped back and brushed off, then checked his watch.
The rumble of the trash truck, still a few blocks away, seemed to make his shoulders drop in relief as he turned toward her and started hustling out, as fast as a man that size could hustle.
Something made Chloe inch back, letting the brick wall of his office building shield her, bracing herself for the inevitable encounter. He’d supported her efforts, with much to gain as a real estate broker if property values rose. But the fact that he was running unopposed to take Aunt Blanche’s place really irked her. Should she confront him about it? Or maybe take the high road and suggest one of her alternative ideas so Bitter Bark wouldn’t fail?
He stepped out of the alleyway into the bright light, a sheen of sweat on his broad forehead.
“Hi, Dave.”
He nearly jumped out of his skin. “Oh! Oh. Oh, Chloe. Hello.” He drew back, clearly stunned to see her. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m going to the same meeting you are, I suppose.”
He nodded a few times, his gaze darting past her. “Oh yes. Big meeting. Big.”
For a guy about to announce he was essentially a shoo-in for the mayoral position, he seemed pretty agitated.
“I’m sorry my ideas didn’t work out,” she said, trying to find a way to broach the subject of new ideas.
“Yeah, yeah.” He nodded again, his attention pulled to the backup beeps from the trash truck that was now across the square.
“That’ll be here soon,” he said. “So…” He gestured for her to move. “They’ll have to make that tight turn to get to my dumpster.” He swiped his hand over thin hair, squinting at the truck.
New Leash on Life (The Dogfather Book 2) Page 22
