Playing For Her Heart

by Megan Erickson

  …

  Chloe lay in bed staring at the ceiling.

  She couldn’t even get herself off properly anymore.

  After the fuckup that was the night at Grant’s, Chloe had holed herself up in her apartment. Ethan had been calling her all day and night. She’d blown him off with an “I’m fine” text, but who knew how long that would hold him off. Like a true introvert, she needed plenty of alone time to recharge before she had to talk to anyone again. The night at Grant’s had been more than she could handle. She’d come so close, so close to letting him in but she wasn’t ready for that.

  Not when her family was still a mess and Ethan still needed watching. Even if he denied it. No, this was fine. This was okay.

  If only she could have a freaking orgasm. She decided on her go-to fantasy, which was Kahl Drogo in Game of Thrones. So she was Daenerys predragon but whatever. That Daenerys was still pretty badass.

  She lay on her back while morning sun crept across the floor of her bedroom and slipped her fingers into her panties.

  She imagined big Kahl Drogo with his long, dark braid and his kohl-rimmed eyes grabbing her thighs and plunging into her again, and again and…

  Blue eyes flashed in her vision.

  Wait, what? Kahl Drogo didn’t have blue eyes. He had brown eyes.

  And he didn’t smile, and call her Princess. She was Kahleesi, dammit. Kahleesi.

  Come for me, Princess.

  No, shit, that wasn’t Kahl’s guttural tone, that was Grant’s deep, friendly one.

  This always worked, her fantasies. This was her escape, her way to get away and now all she could hear was Grant’s voice and all she could see were his blue eyes, his clenched jaw.

  Her hips were moving on their own accord and her fingers were slipping through the wetness over her clit.

  She was going to come. She was going to come with the phantom Grant on top of her, inside of her, whispering her name and demanding things of her she didn’t want to give.

  The orgasm rocketed through her and when she opened her mouth, she didn’t praise Kahl for the excellent fucking. No, when she came it was with Grant’s name whispered on her lips.

  And then she lay there, her fingers wet, her body exhausted, dread gnawing at her belly.

  She was so much deeper into Grant that she had thought. He’d broken her with his skilled hands. His dirty words. The way he burned her with his blazing blue eyes.

  You’ll never be what he needs, a voice in her head said.

  She took a minute to gather her bearings, then got out of bed to start her day.

  Half an hour later, while she was eating breakfast, there was a knock on her door. She stuck her finger in her mouth, catching the stray drop of syrup that she’d caught off her plate.

  When she opened the door, Ethan stood there, hands in the pockets of his track pants, long-sleeved shirt stretched across his broad chest. “What’s going on?”

  “Why aren’t you answering my calls?”

  She feigned ignorance. “What do you mean? I texted you.”

  Ethan stared at her, not buying it.

  She sighed. “I was busy.”

  Ethan stepped inside, forcing her to take a step back so he could come in. He shut the door behind him and looked around her place. “Working?”

  Not really. “Yes.”

  He frowned and then sniffed, his expression softening. “Pancakes?”

  She rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen, listening to Ethan’s steps behind her. “Did you come over on the false pretense of worrying about me just to get some breakfast?”

  He’d done that when she was on a Game of Thrones food kick. She’d bought a cookbook and made all kinds of treats from the books, like lemon cakes and Pentoshi duck. She even blogged about it, which Ethan said was the nerdiest thing she’d ever done.

  Whatever. Sansa was right; those lemon cakes were delicious.

  But she liked making Ethan happy, so she fed him pancakes and listened to him talk about work and afterward, they sat on the couch to watch morning news shows.

  He’d done this when they were kids, hang out with her like this. She’d read him books and he’d laugh at her voices, while Samantha lay on the bed, tossing a ball in the air.

  Chloe wanted to share that memory with Ethan. She wanted to talk to him about Samantha, but when she tried in the past, his entire body would stiffen. He’d retreat into his shell and that made Chloe’s heart hurt even worse. She hadn’t just lost Samantha that day. She’d lost Ethan, too, or at least the Ethan he’d been. The loving, affectionate brother. The one who smiled a lot and laughed. He had the best laugh.

  And she’d also lost her family, that cohesive unit that had been her foundation.

  She wished she could confess all of this to Ethan, but she didn’t want to add to the guilt he’d already placed on himself. Samantha would have been able to do it. If it were Chloe who died, Samantha would have kept the family together. She wouldn’t have let Ethan fall so deep within himself that he’d become a different person.

  And she wouldn’t turn down Grant Osprey, the man of Chloe’s dreams. The thought of Grant’s smile, his laugh, his teasing humor and oh God, his hands, made her ache and burn all at the same time.

  She fell asleep on the couch and woke up to the smell of something burning. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up and peered over the couch. Ethan was frowning at the toaster oven, and it made her smile to see him crouch and peer inside.

  She stood up, clutching the blanket around her shoulders, and walked into the kitchen.

  Ethan looked up when he heard her footsteps, still frowning. “I tried to make you toast for lunch. I think it’s burnt.”

  She looked into the toaster oven at the blackened bread. “Yep, looks pretty burnt.”

  He huffed and pointed to a pan on the stovetop. “Well, I didn’t burn the soup. It’s just a can so the sodium content might kill you, but at least it’s food.”

  So she sat at the table and let Ethan serve her some soup. She stirred it absentmindedly, thinking of what she’d done that morning, who she’d been thinking about.

  “Chloe?” Ethan asked as he washed the soup pan.

  “Yeah?”

  He paused for a minute, then shut off the water and dried his hands. “Are you seeing anyone?”

  She blinked at the sudden question, and stammered out the first thing her panicked mind thought of. “N-no.”

  Ethan chewed on his lip. “No?”

  That wasn’t really a lie. She wasn’t sure what she and Grant had done—were still doing?—had any sort of classification. She shook her head.

  Ethan dropped the towel on the counter. “Okay, just wondering. Uh, Grant asked me for your number. Something about a security question. You know anything about that?”

  Her blood roared in her ears. Grant had to be slightly desperate if he was willing to stick his neck out and ask Ethan. Again, she could do nothing but shake her head.

  Ethan shrugged. “I didn’t give it to him. Do you mind if I do?”

  Her mind whirled. “Uh, I’m busy. With work…and stuff.”

  Ethan waved her off, as if he was relieved about it all. “I’ll blow him off. No worries.”

  She breathed out a sigh of relief, even as a pang of regret hit her in the chest.

  While Ethan finished cleaning up, Chloe made her way into her office to check her email.

  She scanned through them, getting rid of spam. An unfamiliar email caught her eye—SydKid247. She clicked on it and read the email from Sydney, asking if they could meet for coffee within the next couple of days to discuss more about Chloe’s job.

  Her first inclination was to say no, no way. For a few minutes when they were chatting at the career fair, Chloe thought she could maybe make a difference in the girl’s life. But Sydney was so vibrant. So excited about the future ahead of her. What could Chloe do for her? Nothing, that was what. She’d inevitably let Sydney down, maybe even give her a negative opinion of women in her p
rofession, and she didn’t think she could live with herself if that happened. But the girl’s email was so excitable, full of exclamation points about how she wanted to see Chloe again…about how her dad said it was okay, and that he’d come to supervise, like Chloe had asked.

  Chloe set her jaw, deciding then and there she would not fail this kid. She was going to do her damnedest to help her. Hell, she had to start somewhere. Before she changed her mind, she wrote back saying yes, she’d love to meet up.

  And like the last time she’d seen Sydney, she’d be comfortable enough to be herself.

  Chapter Ten

  Chloe walked toward the front of the coffee shop, feeling a little exposed, but psyched by the opportunity to do something positive. She’d agreed to meet Sydney on Friday after school, and Chloe had been looking forward to it all week. The teenager was fun and excited and she reminded Chloe of all the reasons she loved her job. Why Chloe herself had value in the world. It was…refreshing.

  It also helped ease the ache of disappointing Grant. That wound was still too fresh for Chloe to do anything but wait for it to heal over.

  But she couldn’t think about that now. She took a deep breath and donned her professional Chloe hat, pushed open the door, and glanced around the coffee shop. It wasn’t too busy, but there was a decent crowd. Sydney, her blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, waved at her from a table. A man sat across from her, his back to her. Chloe figured this was Sydney’s father. She walked toward their table, bringing her hand out to shake his. He stood when Sydney waved, then turned slowly.

  His head was down, and when he lifted it, Chloe’s steps faltered.

  Grant stood there, his blue eyes cautious, completely unsurprised to see her. Chloe’s eyes darted to Sydney. “Hi, Miss Talley. This is my dad, Grant Osprey.” Sydney studied her face and frowned. “He said he knows you? I didn’t know you were Ethan’s sister.”

  Dad.

  Grant had a daughter.

  And not just any daughter, but Sydney.

  Chloe hadn’t known he had a child, or maybe she had at one time, but had forgotten. Either way, her mind spun.

  She’d planned to avoid him as much as possible, make excuses whenever Ethan mentioned his presence, hoping time would begin to smooth over the hurt of not being able to have Grant.

  This…this was too soon. She was too fragile, still too raw from their last night together. Yet here he was, his hand outstretched, his eyes pleading with her to stay. This couldn’t be happening again, this freaking repeat of the dinner with Ethan.

  Chloe glanced at Sydney, who was watching them curiously now, a little furrow between her brows. If it wasn’t for her, Chloe would have turned around and walked back out, just put this all behind her. But she couldn’t do that to the girl who’d sent her an excited email with emoticons.

  So she stuck out her hand, feeling the trembles up her arm. “Hi, Grant, nice to see you again.” She turned to Sydney. “Yes, I’m Ethan’s sister. I…guess I never got your last name so I didn’t put it all together.”

  “I should have noticed your last name but I was nervous and—”

  Chloe waved her hand, taking a seat, ever aware of Grant’s eyes on her as he sat, too. “No worries, Sydney. Anyway, I’m so glad you asked me to coffee.”

  Sydney smiled. “Dad can get you a drink.”

  “Oh, that’s—”

  “What would you like, Chloe?” Grant leaned close, closer than he probably should have.

  Chloe sucked in a breath. “Um, just a latte is fine.”

  “Coming right up.”

  He stood, the scent of his cologne and skin right under her nose. She wanted to nuzzle into him, feel his heat, but in one step he was gone, walking toward the counter.

  His absence gave her time to collect herself, which she desperately needed if she was going to be any help to Sydney. That’s why she was here, for this bright teenager who sat across from her with a brilliant smile and blue eyes. Which she now saw was Grant, all Grant. She was a beautiful girl.

  “Thank you so much for coming, Miss Talley. I had some more questions, if that’s all right.” Sydney dug a spiral-bound notebook out her book bag and sat it on the table in front of her. Then she flipped open the cover and smoothed down a sheet covered in pen. She looked uncertain as she bit her lip and lifted her gaze to Chloe. “Is this okay?”

  Chloe went for her best smile. “Of course! Just a bit nervous that I won’t be of any help to you, or that I’ll embarrass myself in front of your father.” That was pure honesty.

  Sydney beamed. “Oh, well just picture Dad and I in our pj’s! That’s what you told me, remember? I’ll wear unicorns and Dad will wear…um…football ones or something.”

  That wasn’t helping, not at all, because now all Chloe could think about was Grant in bed, not wearing pj’s, oh no, he was wearing nothing at all. And she was slipping into the sheets with him, leaning in to kiss those full lips as his hand cupped her ass—

  A steaming latte was placed on the table in front of her, then Grant sat down, a fresh cup in his hand. He took a sip, raising his eyebrows over the rim at her.

  She wanted to take this latte and pour it on his pants. He’d shown up here, knowing he’d be seeing her. Sydney must have shown him her business card. While Chloe had been completely in the dark. It wasn’t fair.

  But she’d rally. Of course she would. Because Sydney thought she was important and dammit, Chloe could at least pretend to be for the next forty-five minutes or so.

  And as Sydney began her questions—about when Chloe first became interested in programming, what classes she took in high school, and where she went to college—Chloe lost herself in talking about her work. She didn’t like talking about herself, but this came naturally to her, and it was for Sydney’s benefit. The teenager scribbled notes as Chloe talked, Sydney’s little tongue touching the corner of her mouth as she concentrated. Every once in a while, Grant would shift his weight, but he kept silent and in time, Chloe relaxed. In a way, the two of them knew her in ways many people didn’t. Although Chloe was highly sought-after in her field, the attention Sydney was giving her made her feel better than any award, any paycheck, any clap on the back.

  Sydney talked, too, about her dreams and goals. They talked about baking and cooking, and Sydney promised to send a recipe for shortbread she was working on, and Chloe was going to send one for chicken fajitas in return. Grant perked up at that, which made Chloe forget herself for a minute and smile at him, picturing him enjoying a meal she cooked. He returned her smile easily, happily, and she had to look away.

  And then their time was up. Sydney gathered her book bag and kissed her father on the cheek, then hugged Chloe, and before Chloe realized what she was going on, the girl was out the door of the coffee shop. On the sidewalk in front, she greeted another girl, and the two walked off together.

  “She’s meeting a friend to go shopping at the nearby strip mall. Sarah’s mom is taking them home.” Grant’s voice was behind her, and she turned to look at him.

  Chloe sipped her latte and thought about what to say. She should get up and leave, but her legs were trembling. She wasn’t sure she could walk without making a fool of herself. “So you knew I’d be here.”

  “I did.”

  Chloe met his gaze.

  He sighed and leaned forward. “I was worried you’d refuse to come, and Sydney would have been crushed.”

  Chloe narrowed her eyes. “I would never have stood up Sydney because of you. That girl is the sweetest teenager I think I’ve ever met. I would have braved a blizzard to get here for her.” The vehemence in her voice surprised her, and it surprised Grant, too, if his widened eyes were any indication. She cleared her throat. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

  Grant cocked his head. “Ethan never mentioned it?”

  Chloe shrugged. “Maybe at one time he had, but I didn’t remember. You didn’t mention it either.”

  Grant’s jaw ticked. “You set a lot of grou
nd rules about what we were allowed to talk about.”

  She looked away. Because he had a point.

  “Chloe—”

  “I should go.”

  “Dammit.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I’ve thought of nothing but you for a week. Ethan told me you weren’t answering his calls and I was worried. And then you show up here, looking more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you, and you spent an hour of your time making my daughter’s entire year. So if you can sit there and tell me that I mean nothing to you except for what we did physically, then tell me. And I’ll leave you alone.”

  The tears were threatening and no way would she cry in a coffee shop. “I think you know perfectly well that I can’t say that.”

  He leaned closer, his hand on her thigh, his face tilted into hers. “Then why won’t you give us a try? Let’s start over. I’ll take you out on a date, and I’ll treat you like a princess. We’ll come clean to Ethan and hopefully he won’t rip my nuts off.”

  She looked at him through her lashes. “You don’t understand,” she whispered, the knot in her throat threatening to choke her.

  “Then make me understand,” he pleaded. “Give me that much, Chloe.”

  “That’s just it.” He had to see. Why couldn’t he see? “You don’t want Chloe.”

  His face darkened. “You can’t tell me that I don’t want you.”

  “You don’t know me.” Her voice was pleading.

  He cocked his head. “No? I know you’re smart, one of the best at what you do. When you talk about your job, your whole face lights up. You cook like a fucking dream. I stole a whole container of that soup you made out of Ethan’s refrigerator.” He leaned closer, so his lips were right at her ear. “I know you get wet at the sound of my voice, that you love my tongue, that you crave how I fuck you. I know you think I’m funny even when you try to act like I’m not. And that’s all you, Chloe, that’s not whatever act you think you’re putting on. I see right through all that bullshit. And despite this conversation, I like what I see.”

  She shook her head, desperate to get out of here, desperate to end this conversation, but Grant wasn’t done. He cupped her cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb as he met her eyes. “As much as I love fucking you any way I can get you, I want the chance to make love to Chloe. Think about how good that would be, sweetheart. I’d take my time, licking you, working your clit with my tongue. There’d be no rush. Just you and me. And then I’d wrap your legs around my hips and I’d enter that wet pussy slowly, so fucking slowly, it’d be torture for both of us.”