she was sorry and ran away.”
Reese cursed. “Chloe would never do something like that.”
“No, I don’t think she would.” Chloe wouldn’t leave. He had a hard time imaging her running from anything. “As for my friends, they didn’t know what to say to me. Most of them worked in the hospital with me. They thought I blamed them because the bastard tortured me inside the hospital and no one came to help me.”
“Did you blame them?”
“That’s question four. And I don’t know. Maybe.” He only knew he hadn’t been able to talk to them. They hadn’t understood him any longer. No one had. “I was adopted when I was a kid. My biological mother lived here in New Orleans. I lived with her until she passed away.” Then he’d gone into the system. Bounced around in some foster homes and gotten very lucky. The couple who’d adopted him had been willing to open their hearts to a surly, distrustful kid. They’d taken good care of him. But they were dead now, too, and after Joel’s attack… “I had some good memories here. So I thought, since my life in Dallas wasn’t working, I’d try new scenery.”
A moment of silence as Reese seemed to absorb that explanation. He shifted a little against the couch cushions. “And are things working for you here?”
“I met your sister. You tell me. Is that something good? Or something bad?”
Reese opened his mouth, as if he’d answer, then he caught himself. More silence ticked past.
“Sorry about your parents,” Joel murmured.
“And I’m sorry about what happened to you.” Reese eyed the remaining beer. “There’s a whiskey room in the main house. Left by the previous owner. Chloe hates whiskey, so she told me I could do whatever I wanted with it. Want to go and pop open a twenty-year Pappy with me?”
“Hell, yes.”
“Excellent.” Reese gave an abrupt nod and rose to his feet. “I hate drinking alone.”
Joel uncurled much more slowly. “Did you know the previous owner?”
“No, he was some friend of Chloe’s.”
“I heard he was a mobster.”
Reese laughed. “Sounds right.”
That shit is not funny.
Chapter Thirteen
He was swimming.
Chloe paused along the pathway that led to the swimming pool. Technically, the pathway branched. If she went to the right, she would head to the main house. It was close to two a.m., and she was exhausted. She could slip inside and crash in the big bed that waited for her.
Or she could go to the left. She could follow the faint sounds of splashing. She could go to Joel.
She found herself turning to the left.
The pool lights glowed a dark, deep turquoise from beneath the surface, and she watched as Joel’s powerful arms circled into the water again and again as he made laps around the pool. He was quite good. Quite fast.
Very focused for a man who’d been drinking whiskey.
She kicked off her high heels. Headed to the side of the pool. She slipped down until she was sitting on the edge, she hiked up her dress, and she let her feet dangle in the water.
Her head cocked as she watched him. Chloe was fairly certain that Joel wasn’t wearing swim trunks. He was moving very quickly, but from what she could see—
“Chloe.” He’d stopped on the opposite end of the pool. His breath sawed in and out as he lifted a hand and shoved wet hair off his forehead. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a few minutes.” Her feet moved lazily in the water. “You’re an extremely good swimmer.”
He pushed away from the wall and swam toward her. She couldn’t help but tense as he approached. There was something about the way he was moving through the water and keeping his focus locked on her. He rather reminded her of a shark.
Is he coming to take a bite?
When he reached her, his hands rose and curled along the pool edge on either side of her body. She knew the water was about five feet deep in that area, so he stood easily.
“You remind me of a shark, swimming after prey.” Chloe wasn’t sure why she’d admitted that. But it was true.
When did I become his prey?
“Did you have fun tonight?” Joel asked her.
Fun? “Not particularly.”
Water trailed down his chest. “Marie said you were on a date.”
“No.”
“Your brother told me you weren’t dating anyone.”
“I’m not.” She couldn’t look away from him. She’d known that Joel was strong. But, seeing him this way…the man was cut. He must exercise like a fiend.
“I’m sure there are plenty of