you nervous?”
Chloe was standing at his side on the porch, both of them watching the black Cayenne roll up the drive.
Since breakfast, she’d morphed from pretty girl in pajama bottoms, cami and Sully’s purloined flannel shirt to fashionista in jeans, slouchy sweater belted at the waist, and shoes he knew—and did not get why women did not find it funny and stop doing it—they called booties.
The heels again were high.
He was learning not to worry about it.
In fact, at this point, he’d probably be more concerned if she wore flats.
“With age, honey, you learn a lot of shit. One of the things you learn is that, in this world, there is absolutely nothing you can control, except your own actions and reactions.”
He looked down at her noting, not for the first time, she was visibly nervous.
And one of many things she made clear about her personality, Chloe Pierce was not a nervous person.
Maybe she was thinking her mom was going to be ticked at her.
Mostly, he suspected, it was wanting what was to come to work.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he continued. “I want with all I am to carry on the good work Gen and me started last night. But I got one job in this and all I can do is do it right. I fully intend to do that. What comes of that is beyond my control and the only thing I can do is react when it happens in a way that’s best for your mom.”
“You know…” she hesitated and then, “I shouldn’t say it.”
He turned fully to her.
And he got down to it.
For him.
And for her.
Because whatever was going to happen was imminently going to happen.
And this had to be said.
“Whatever goes down with your mom, Chloe, you and me, we have what we have, and I want you to know, it’s means something to me. If things don’t work out with Genny, I get I’ll likely lose you. And you’re an extraordinary young woman. So that will pain me. But I’ll understand, and we’ll have had our time. And I already know it’s an honor that you gave it to me. But while we’re having it, I don’t want you to feel you can’t say something to me.”
She stared up at him, expression open and sweet, and yeah.
Someone was in for a helluva ride with Chloe Pierce.
But when that ride was over, life would be really fucking good.
“You remind me of my dad,” she blurted.
It had not been lost on him, in coming home last night from Genny the way Genny had been at the bar, getting his laptop, and doing what he’d not once allowed himself to do: a deep dive into her life—that there were definite physical, and it would seem if he could believe what he read, other similarities between him and Tom Pierce.
Duncan was unusual because he didn’t have a type. He enjoyed women. Height. Weight. Race. None of that mattered. He was attracted to a variety of things.
Which was evidenced by the fact Gen was tall, slender and blonde, Dora was just under average height, curvy and brunette and Betsy was tall, voluptuous and mixed race.
But they were all funny. They were all loyal. And they were all motivated.
But it was clear Genny had a type.
Something that didn’t bother him, and not only because Chloe had openly, and not unwittingly, but perhaps not understanding how crucial it was, shared that Gen and her ex would never get back together.
Tom Pierce, as far as he could tell, was halfway to sainthood.
The public didn’t know something, though.
And neither did Duncan.
Considering the fact that family still seemed very tight, he just hoped, if Genny gave that to him, he didn’t lose his shit when he found out.
Onward from that, he’d discovered that neither of them had dated since the divorce.
It was just over a year old, but even so, they were both vital people, it was high time to move on.
Until Chloe had shared what she’d shared that morning, Duncan had found this concerning. Because it might be they couldn’t move on because they were still hung up on each other.
Now, he just saw it as something else made clear at the bar.
Genny was out of practice with this shit.
Which was why, last night, sitting next to a man she wanted, she was cute, nervous and a babbling mess.
He’d seen her that way twice before.
When she was coming to terms with their mutual attraction in their teens.
And at Corey’s wedding, before he’d taken