Marriage Matters - By Cynthia Ellingsen Page 0,66

draped over his arms. “She leaves food in the fridge, picks up after Mary Beth. She’s basically my surrogate wife.”

Chloe nodded, but inside she was floored. What would that feel like, to have someone do her cooking and cleaning for her? It dawned on her that, in some respects, she knew. Ben was more than happy to cook for her, whenever she wanted. It was only recently that all that had changed.

Geoff strolled back into the room. “What’s the frown for?”

“Not a thing.” Chloe gazed down at the lights of Navy Pier. The Ferris wheel was turning, leaving a trail of golden light in its wake.

“I was thinking about what you said about our families knowing one another.” Geoff got down on his knees and considered his wine cabinet. “I had the oddest feeling that I’d met you before, when I first saw your eyes.” Looking over his shoulder, he smiled. “They’re quite memorable.”

Geoff poured them some wine and sat on the couch, patting the seat next to him. Feeling like Whiskers, Chloe perched where he’d told her to sit. He handed her a glass of wine and undid his ascot.

Pointing at it, she grinned. “Can I ask?”

Geoff laughed. “My grandfather wore ascots, my father wears them and now, me. It’s tradition but it’s also a conversation piece. A great icebreaker at the office.”

Chloe was impressed. “I’ll have to think of something like that. When it’s my turn to open my place. If I ever open my place.”

“You will.” Geoff nodded. “With your ambition, you’ll go far.” Picking up his glass, he toyed with the stem. “I still feel guilty about that day in my office. I was intimidated by you, I think.”

Chloe laughed. “Come on. What a line.” The famed Dr. Gable was probably hoping to get her into bed. Remembering those green sweatpants, she blushed. The prospect was hardly unappealing.

“It’s not a line, it’s true.” He turned to her, his handsome face earnest. “You were brave enough to come to me and ask for an endorsement for an incredibly advanced grant. I was impressed.”

Chloe ran her hands over the stiff leather sofa. “Really?”

He nodded. “I used to be like you, ready to take on the world. Then real life got in the way. You remind me of that time, that optimism.”

“I’m not optimistic,” she admitted. “I’m just overworked. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in . . .” Really, the last time she’d had a good night’s sleep was during those two days where she’d hidden in her bed, so worried that she’d told him off. “Well, in a long time.”

“Hopefully our relationship will invigorate you.” He touched her hand. “The way it’s invigorated me.”

Chloe swallowed hard. Relationship? She thought of Ben’s rude words at the club.

Yeah, she wanted to tell him now. Geoff is my boyfriend. So there.

Biting her lower lip, she looked up at him. “I’m glad . . . we’re doing this.”

“Me, too.” Leaning forward, Geoff hesitated before touching his lips to hers. “May I kiss you?”

“Yes,” she said. “But only if you never ask me that question again.”

A startled look crossed his face and then he smiled. The kiss was soft and warm, just like that night at the piano bar. But this time, it left her toes tingling.

Twenty-eight

Kristine bolted awake at 6 a.m.

Italy, Italy, Italy!

The thought sang through her head like a favorite love song. Leaping out of bed, she raced for the shower. As the coconut-scented shampoo ran down her body, she mentally ran through the list of what she’d packed, wondering whether there was time to double-check it before the cab arrived.

Ethan was already at the airport when she got there, sprawled out in a lobby chair. Spotting her, he got to his feet. “You look . . .” He blinked. “Incredible.”

June had always insisted that it was critical to look good in three situations: on an airplane, at the doctor’s office and when getting hit by a cab. So, Kristine was decked out in a pair of fitted designer slacks and a soft-as-the-clouds cashmere sweater. The sweater clung to curves that she normally kept hidden. She’d even taken the time to blow out her hair and it fell in vibrant waves around her shoulders.

At Ethan’s obvious admiration, she flushed. “Sorry I’m late,” she said, dragging her enormous suitcase behind her. “I thought I lost my passport, the cab was late, traffic was ridiculous . . .”

Ethan put a warm hand on her shoulder. For the first time all day,

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