Backup Plan - Emily Goodwin Page 0,26
romantic getaway, so I probably won’t get out there this trip.”
“They’re leaving when you just got here?” We start walking down the stone path to the parking lot.
“They had the trip planned, and me coming here wasn’t preplanned or anything. Though it works out, because as much as I love my father, he’s a talker, and I don’t get much work done when he’s around.”
“Yeah, I could see that. Having a lake house to yourself while writing a book is exactly what a movie about a writer would do.”
She chuckles. “It is a little cliché, but it will be really nice and quiet. They’re taking the dog too, so I’ll literally have no one but myself to take care of. Though when I’m deep in the writing cave—not a literal cave, but a mental one, I guess?” She shakes her head. “It’s just something us writers say. But when I’m in the writing cave, I can go like all day without eating and only drinking coffee and wine. And then it might be a few days before I shower, and I don’t know why I’m admitting this to you, though I also admitted it on TV last year so…”
“That’s also what I think of when I think of writers,” I joke and playfully nudge her. The second my skin touches hers, a shock runs through me. I look out at the woods, having to talk down my cock—and my heart.
“Write drunk, edit sober,” she says with a wink. “It’s a Hemmingway quote and isn’t that terrible advice.”
“I can’t imagine having a drink while working.”
She laughs, and I love the way that little dimple on her right cheek is still there when she smiles. “Yeah, I don’t think that would go too well.”
We get to my car, which is the only one left in the parking lot. I open the passenger side door for Chloe and reach into the back, grabbing the fleece blanket. I really don’t care if she sits in the car all wet from the rain, but I know Chloe doesn’t like to inconvenience anyone in the smallest way.
“Thanks again for driving me to my dad’s,” she says, and I get a flash of driving her home after school. There were so many times when I wanted to pull over and kiss her.
But there were even more times when it just didn’t happen.
Her phone goes crazy with text messages as soon as we’re back on the road and within cell service range. I’m curious who the messages are from, mostly because I don’t see how Chloe could be single. Jealously sizzles through my veins at the thought of her having a boyfriend, and I need to knock it the fuck off.
She’s busy replying to the messages on the short drive from the park to her dad’s house. The rain is starting to fall harder when I park in the driveway. My heart jumps into my throat when I turn and look at her. I put my BMW in park and shove that fucker back down where it belongs.
“It was really good to see you,” I say slowly, resisting the urge to reach out and brush back that loose lock of hair that’s starting to curl around her forehead. “You look…good. Really good.”
“Even wet?” she asks and then closes her eyes, realizing she’s said something awkward yet again. “You know what I mean.”
I laugh, mind—again—going to her being a different kind of wet. “I do, and yeah, even after you’ve been caught in the rain.”
She blushes and unbuckles her seatbelt. “You look good too, though you always have. It’s not fair.” Her lips pull into a smile. “I’m glad I got caught in the rain when I did.”
“Me too.” The car is in park yet we’re still sitting here, hearts racing. “Do you want to go out and catch up?”
“I’m having dinner with my dad and Wendy tonight or, um…yeah.” She leans toward me, just a bit, and the curl falls into her eyes. I can’t help it this time. I reach out and tuck it behind her ear. I sweep my fingers down along her jaw, and Chloe shivers again. Part of me wants to kiss her right here and now, just to see what would happen.
If it would feel as good as I’ve imagined.
Her phone dings with another text, startling her. She tenses, and I jerk my hand back. “How…how long are you in town?” she asks.
“Until Tuesday,” I say, though I’d only planned on the weekend.