him sample the sauce from the tip of her spoon. He’d say, “That’s delicious, sweetheart,” in that smooth voice of his. They’d dine by candlelight and then later that night, in bed, she’d straddle him and ride him until they both passed out in exhaustion.
But that was dream Chloe. The one who had her life together, who knew how to have meaningful, honest relationships. A dream Chloe who didn’t fail her family to the point it completely fractured.
Grant was still talking. “It’d be so good, Chloe.”
“You don’t know that,” she whispered.
“And you’re not giving me chance to prove it to you. You’re not giving us a chance. And this surprises the hell out of me, but I want to go grocery shopping and argue over whether to buy Heinz or generic ketchup. I want to drive in a car with you and see if that cute mouth swears at other drivers. I want to go to a baseball game with you and sing ‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame.’ I want the chance to get to know you better. But you’re not going to let me get that chance, are you?”
She couldn’t take the leap. She couldn’t. Her throat grew tight, and her chest constricted. All those things sounded amazing in theory, but she didn’t think she could live up to any of that. She let people down, wasn’t who they expected or needed her to be. She didn’t want to give Grant hope and then let him down, too. “I can’t.”
“Why?” he demanded.
She took a deep breath “I’m not a princess. Or a dirty maid. Or a call girl. I’m not any of those things. I’m Chloe Talley and I’m a mess. I read romance novels and I wear really ugly gaucho pants in my apartment and I usually have stained shirts from cooking.” Her lip was trembling. She could feel it now. “And I’m not strong. I’m not strong at all. In fact, I let people down. I’m not charming like you and I don’t like social places unless I can wear a costume and pretend to be someone else. The reason is because I don’t like what I see. I don’t like Chloe. And everything was fine until you made me want to give you more. And I can’t give you that.”
She brushed the back of her hand across her eyes as Grant’s face went slack.
“So just give up. Please.” Her voice cracked, but she soldiered on. “If you care about me, you’ll give this up.”
She grabbed her purse off the table and stood up, looking down at Grant who stared up at her with a stricken face. “And thanks for the latte.”
Then she walked out, leaving Grant behind. And she hoped, for both of their sakes, this would be the last time he’d have to watch her leave.
…
Chloe could have slapped him across the face and it would have stung less than her words.
A weight was sitting on his chest, and the coffee that had been delicious five minutes ago now tasted bitter in his mouth.
He stared at his hands clasped between his knees. He should get up, throw his cup in the trash, and drive home. He should heed Chloe’s wishes. But that small glimpse of the inner-workings of Chloe’s mind had only succeeded in making him fall deeper.
Plus, he’d never been good at following rules.
Games had always been part of Grant’s sex life. Role-playing was welcomed and encouraged. With Chloe, it’d been amazing at first, but that last time at his house, he’d grown tired of the act. He wanted to look her in the eye—Chloe, not whatever role she’d taken on for the day—and hear her say his name.
He wanted to wake up in bed with her in the morning, roll over and see her smiling at him with a fresh face and bed head. He wanted to curl up with her under a blanket and watch reality TV on his couch. Totally different than his normal date—wining and dining—but Chloe brought out his inner cuddler.
Had he ever wanted that before? Well, no. But then other women weren’t Chloe. He’d been shocked right away at their unprecedented chemistry and then he started to see the real Chloe, the shy girl beneath the clothes, the chef, the loving sister. The woman who was determined to be a role model for his daughter.
The problem was that although he had an agenda to actually talk to Chloe each time they met, she scrambled his brains with