by Debbie Mason
Cat had been engaged to Michael Upton, a stockbroker who’d been running a Ponzi scheme from their home. A lot of people believed, as a cop, she’d known what was going on—including the FBI. She’d quit the force. The file on her had still been open when she and Grayson met last year. An agent himself, Grayson had made sure she was fully exonerated. Easton had thought that would be enough to alleviate Cat’s guilt. But obviously she was still carrying it around. “Stop blaming yourself. None of this is your fault.”
“In my head, I know that. I really do. But it’s hard right now when Chloe’s the one paying the price. Please, Easton, I’ll never ask you for another favor. She won’t be able to pull anything if she’s with you. You just have to keep her busy.”
Easton opened his mouth to say no, but at Cat’s suggestion that he keep Chloe busy, he changed his mind. It was the perfect opportunity for some well-deserved payback. “Okay, Cat. For you, I’ll do it.”
Chapter Five
Thumpthumpthump… thump. Chloe’s heart pounded an alarming beat at the base of her throat. She rested her head on the backseat of the limo while fumbling in her purse for her nitrogen tablets, and then she remembered they were sugar pills. She closed her eyes. They wouldn’t do her any good. She retrieved them anyway. They’d worked before, and she had to do something. She was afraid she was having a heart attack. Shaking two pills into her sweaty palm, she repeated the words nitrogen tablets over and over again in her mind. As she chewed them, she visualized her frantic heart returning to a normal beat.
Several moments passed before her pulse began to slow, and while she was relieved that it did, she couldn’t help but wonder if everyone was right. Was she a hypochondriac? She didn’t understand how that could be. She wasn’t faking. The symptoms were real and, at times, terrifying. And she didn’t understand why they’d come on so suddenly. Especially now when everything was going according to plan. Maybe that was the problem.
Easton’s about-face had been rather sudden and surprising. Though most surprising of all had been his insistence that she stay with him. She supposed it would be easier for them to coordinate their plan with no one the wiser. But it was the last thing she expected him to say. He thought she was a spoiled brat and more often than not gave the impression he couldn’t stand to be in the same room with her. And no matter what he said, she was sure he’d hit her with the football on purpose. He’d had the best arm in the league, everybody said so.
But maybe this was the opportunity she needed to repair their friendship. They had been friends once, a long time ago. Before she’d fallen in love with him and ruined everything. And she certainly didn’t want Cat to marry another man who hated her.
Michael had hated Chloe. He’d done his best to keep them apart. A true narcissist, he didn’t like sharing Cat’s love. Her poor sister. After what her ex-fiancé put her through, Cat deserved a happy-ever-after more than most. Chloe had dropped everything to fly to her sister’s side when his fraud had been exposed. She’d found Cat curled in a fetal position on her bed. It was an image that haunted Chloe to this day, and one she never wanted to see again.
As for Grayson, she’d offer him her friendship, a shoulder to cry on. She’d help him come to terms with losing Cat. She’d convince him to return to LA with her and Estelle. It would be better if he didn’t have Cat’s and Easton’s relationship rubbed in his face on a daily basis. Chloe would wait at least a year before telling anyone about her and Grayson. She chewed on her thumbnail; she’d have to look up the proper etiquette for dating a sister’s ex-fiancé.
She withdrew her compact from her purse and checked her face. She felt more like herself now that she’d had a chance to redo her hair and makeup. Estelle was staying with Grayson and Cat at the ranch, which worked perfectly for the plan. When Chloe stopped by to drop off Estelle, she’d freshened up before heading to Easton’s.
She glanced at her watch and lowered the limo’s privacy window. “Are you sure you know where you’re going? We’ve been driving for fifteen minutes.”
“Yes, ma’am. It won’t be long now.”
“All right. Thank you.” Ma’am? Did she look old enough to be a ma’am? How depressing to think that she did. She was jobless, loveless, relationshipless, and a ma’am at thirty-two. Ugh. The driver pulled onto a long gravel road, and she glanced out the window.
This can’t be right. They were in the middle of nowhere. Granted, it was a beautiful piece of property with the mountains visible in the distance, but she’d expected Easton to live closer to town. The limo came to a stop in front of a shack and the driver got out.
Chloe lowered the window. “Is there a problem?”
“No, ma’am. We’re here.” He opened her door.
She shook her head and leaned out to pull it shut. “No, you must be mistaken. I’ll call—”
“It’s the right place.” He nodded at something over his shoulder.
Chloe angled her head to see what he was looking at. Easton stood on the dilapidated porch, his broad shoulder resting against a weather-beaten post. A lock of wavy black hair fell over his forehead, a white T-shirt stretched over his muscular chest, his jeans worn and faded in all the right places, his bare feet crossed at the ankles.
She swallowed and worked her way back to his gorgeous face, relieved to see a hint of amusement in his blue eyes. It was a joke. Ha-ha. Thank goodness! But since he’d obviously gone to some trouble to set it up, she’d let him have his fun. It was encouraging to see his sense of humor return. This was more like the Easton she remembered. The one she’d fallen in love with.
“Thank you,” she said to the driver when he helped her from the car. She smiled at Easton. “Look at you living the life.” She flung her arms wide. “Smell that fresh mountain air. Umm, so good. It’s really beautiful out here, Easton.”
He frowned and started down the rickety porch steps. “Are you drunk?”
“No, why would you think that?” The driver opened the trunk. She leaned back and whispered, “Just leave my luggage there for now.” No sense taking it out only to have him put the bags back in.
A slow smile spread across Easton’s face. “Aren’t you going to pay John? I’m sure he has better things to do than wait around all night.”
How did he know her driver’s…Oh, now she got it. Even her driver was in on the joke. “Silly me, I’m such a scatterbrain today. It must have been the blow I took to my head earlier. You know, from the football you drilled at me.” She smiled and retrieved her wallet from her purse.
The driver looked slightly confused when she handed him the money. “Should I take your bags out now?”
She glanced at Easton, who raised his eyebrows at her. She sighed. He obviously planned on playing this out for a while longer. “Yes. Thank you, John.”
The man placed her oversize suitcases beside her, then got in the limo. She watched the black sedan head down the gravel drive, frowning when it turned onto the main road without stopping. It looked like they’d be taking Easton’s truck back to town. She glanced at the ominous dark clouds gathering over the mountains and hoped he had a tarp for the open bed.
“Come on. I’ll show you around, and you can get settled.”
“What about my luggage?”
He stopped on the bottom step, glancing at her over his shoulder. “What about it?”
She sighed and gestured to the bags. “You forgot them.”
“Nope. You’re going to have to bring them in yourself, Scarlett. I wrenched my leg hauling you out of the water. I can’t carry anything right now.”
An offended gasp escaped from between her lips. She might have gained a few pounds over the past several months, but she couldn’t believe he was making fun of her weight. “I am not fat, Easton McBride.” Her cheeks warmed, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “All right, joke’s over. It was funny for about two seconds. Take me to your real house before it starts to pour.”
He lowered himself onto the top step and started to la
ugh. A deep, sexy laugh that would have made her smile if she wasn’t so annoyed with him.
Raindrops splattered on her head. “I’m glad you find me amusing, but it’s starting to rain, so maybe you could—”
Still chuckling, he wiped his eyes and, using the railing, pulled himself to his feet. He gave her a slight bow, gesturing to the door. “Mi casa es su casa.”
* * *
The look on Chloe’s face when she realized he wasn’t joking was priceless. He hadn’t laughed like that in a long time. It almost made it worth putting up with her for a couple of days.
Struggling to pull up the handles on her red-and-tan bags, she muttered bloody hell when the sky opened up. Easton leaned with his back against the open door, watching her through a sheet of rain while trying not to laugh. By the time she made it to the steps, her hair was plastered to her head, her dress to her body.
The urge to laugh faded. He should have carried the luggage in for her. But the whole point of the next few days was to teach her a lesson. Dragging his gaze from her lush curves and her long, shapely legs in her red “do-me” shoes, he was a little worried his plan might backfire.
As she hauled her luggage up the steps, her left heel went through a loose board. She stumbled and shot him a pissed-off look.
He forced a smile and winked. “Don’t worry, Scarlett. I’ll put a fire on. You’ll warm up in no time.”
“Stop calling me Scarlett. And I’ll take a hot shower over a fire, thanks.”
“That might be a problem seeing as how I don’t have one. Not in the cabin at least. It’s out back.”
She stopped in front of him, so close he could smell her sweet, sultry perfume, feel the heat from her body coming through the clingy fabric. He grabbed the suitcases and lifted his chin. “Go on in.”
“I thought you couldn’t carry anything after hauling my fat butt out of the water.”
He really didn’t want to go there right now. Not while he was trying to get an image of her in the shower out of his head. “Your butt isn’t fat, but if you don’t get it in the cabin right now, you can carry your own bags to your room.”
She smoothed her hand over her ass and glanced up at him through her long, spiked lashes. “You really don’t think it’s too big?”
He bowed his head and groaned.
“Okay, okay, I’m going.” She walked in, then came to an abrupt stop in front of him.
He bumped into her. “What now?” he muttered, dropping the bags to rub his leg.
Her gaze flitted around the cabin. “Your place is, um, very cozy,” she said, then gave him a concerned look. “Is everything okay with you?”
Cozy? He held back a grin. The cabin was about six hundred square feet and barely habitable, but it worked for him. Last week, he’d approved the final plans for the home he was building a couple hundred yards from the cabin. He was breaking ground in ten days and hoped to move in by the end of summer. Not that he’d share the news with Chloe.
“Leg’s a little sore, but yeah, I’m good.”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” She gestured to the beat-up brown couch and the battered stove and refrigerator. “Are you having financial problems?”
Considering what he had planned for her, it was best that she thought he was. “Medical expenses tapped me out, but I live off the land, so it’s all good.” He picked up her bags and walked past her. “You can take the bed.” A brown curtain separated the bedroom from the living space.
She followed him. “That’s very nice of…That’s not a bed; it’s a mattress on the floor.” She patted the wall. “Where’s the light switch?”
“There isn’t one.” He struggled to keep the amusement from his voice. He should have hidden a camera to film her reaction. Especially when he responded to the next question he had no doubt she’d ask.
She looked around the room, then leaned back to search the outer area. “Where’s the loo?”
“Loo? Don’t think I have one of those,” he said. Her fake accent ticked him off.
She sighed. “A bathroom, Easton. And of course you have one. I just want to know where it is.”
“Oh, sorry, I don’t speak Brit. But yeah, I do. Out the door to your right and back about ten yards.”
“The front door is the…” Her gaze jerked to his.
He grinned. “Yeah, we call it an outhouse here in the good old U. S. of A.”
“That’s disgust.…This isn’t going to work. I can’t stay here, and neither can you. It’s…unhealthy.” She chewed on her thumbnail. “I’m sure I can get rooms for us at the lodge. And you don’t have to worry about the cost. I’ll take care of it.”
“Nope, I don’t take handouts. I have my pride. And if you don’t stay here, our deal is off.”
“It’s not a deal, it’s a plan. You have as much to gain as I do, Easton. And it’s not a handout. Consider it…an investment.”
Some people might think Chloe was an airhead, but it was an act. She was smart. Something he needed to remember. “Doesn’t matter, I can’t leave here anyway. Like I said, I live off the land. That means I have to work it. And this plan of yours is going to take time away from my chores, so you’ll have to help out.”
“What kind of chores?”
He thought about that for a second. He had to make it good. “I have to get the garden in and take care of the livestock.”
“You have livestock? I didn’t see any animals.”
He didn’t, but his closest neighbors had a farm. He’d pay them a visit first thing in the morning. “Just a cow and a couple of chickens.” There were pens out back. They needed a little work, but he’d take care of that in the morning. He smiled, or Chloe would.
“Why are you smiling?”
Dammit. “I’m real fond of my animals. It’s why I stay close to home. I don’t like to leave them alone for long.”
“Oh, I…” She huffed a breath and ungraciously gave in. “All right, I guess I’ll have to make it work.”
“Okay, then, I’ll let you get changed.” He limped to the closet and pulled out a couple of towels from the top shelf. “Here you go. I’ll light the fire. Once you’re dry, you can make us something to eat.”
She stared at him. “I’m your guest. You don’t make your guest cook.”
“You’re not really a guest, you’re more like a partner. But don’t worry, I’ll take my turn tomorrow. The damp weather’s making my leg act up.” He felt uncomfortable at the admission. It wasn’t a lie, but he didn’t admit his weakness, his pain, to anyone.
Her eyes narrowed. “I thought your leg was sore because you pulled me out of the pool.”
“Yeah, that didn’t help. I better rest it tonight or you’ll have to take care of all the chores tomorrow.”
She muttered something under her breath as Easton closed the curtain. Let the fun begin, he thought, pretty sure she’d be on her way back to LA tomorrow. Once he got the fire going, he walked to the Harvest Gold refrigerator and pulled an ice pack from the freezer and returned to the couch. He stretched out and shoved a pillow under his leg, placing the ice pack on top of it. Despite the gnawing ache, he had a smile on his face. A smile that disappeared the moment Chloe pushed the curtain aside. She had on white satin pajamas that left little doubt she was commando and braless. He swore under his breath.
She froze. “What’s wrong? Is it your leg?”
“No…yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Don’t you have something warmer to wear? It gets cold at night.”
“I didn’t expect to be staying in a sha… cabin in the woods.”
Knowing Chloe like he did, he should have realized her wardrobe would consist of soft, sexy, and feminine. That was about to change, he decided, as he set the ice pack on the crate. He got off the couch and gestured to the throw pillow. “Sit in front of the fire.”
“All right.” She nodded and walked over to retrieve the pillow.
At the sound of clicking, he looked at her feet. She had on a pair of heels with w
hite feathers decorating the strap across her toes. “You have to be shitting me.”
“What are you, the fashion police? I’m not walking around in my bare feet. I’ll get slivers.”
He went into the bedroom and grabbed a sweatshirt and a pair of heavy work socks from the dresser drawers. Chloe screamed. He ran from the room. “What—”
She flung herself in his arms and climbed up his body, wrapping her slender arms around his neck, her long legs around his waist. “There’s a-a mouse!”
“Stop moving around,” he gritted out, bracing a hand against the wall. He slid his other arm under her ass to hold in her place while trying to ignore how her body felt plastered against his. She was all soft curves and warm woman. And she smelled incredible; like ginger and orange blossoms. He cleared his throat. “Maybe we should stay in town.”
She leaned back, the light from the fire casting her beautiful face in an angelic glow. “No, we can’t leave your animals alone.”
Why the hell had he said he had livestock? Oh right, he was going for a little payback. Teaching Chloe a lesson.
She cast a nervous glance over her shoulder, then slid down his body. “Sorry,” she said when he groaned. He hoped she thought he was groaning because of his leg.
She clung to him, the weight of her breast heavy and warm on his arm. “Don’t hurt the mouse, just, you know, sweep it out the door.”
He drew a frustrated breath through his nose. “Chloe, you’re going to have to let go of me—”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Yes.” He clenched his teeth and picked her up, carrying her to the counter by the sink. He put her down. “This may take a while.”
She glanced at his leg—Jesus, he hoped it was his leg and not… She raised her pretty green eyes and touched his jaw. “I hurt you. No, don’t deny it, I can see you’re in pain. If”—she cleared her throat—“if you’d like, I can massage your leg for you. My brother pulled a muscle in his shoulder once, and he said it helped.”
