Page 33 of Pain in the Axe
And she was coming here. To my house.
What would she see?
A recluse who’d built a fortress in the woods? A lonely man clinging to an identity that no longer fit him?
I wanted Chloe to like my house. It was an extension of who I was. Part of me wanted to show her that I’d been just fine. That I’d recovered from losing her and that I’d done well. And at the moment, I didn’t have much to show for myself except my house.
The FBI meeting had gone well today, and truth be told, we’d made a good team. Afterward, the dinner invitation came out of my mouth before I could think better of it, and I’d gotten the shock of my life when she’d accepted.
I hadn’t wanted to spend extra hours reviewing every single detail with the legal team, but I’d done it for the company, and, if I was being honest, for her.
She’d bailed us out. She’d taken it all on. And she didn’t deserve to be dragged down by my dad. The shit with him was over. Done with. Of course, there would always be crime. This was rural Maine, and shit went down all the time, but thiscompany had new leadership and a fresh start. Chloe deserved that.
She arrived exactly on time, holding two bottles of wine.
“Double fisting?” I asked as she climbed the porch steps.
She shrugged. “I figured I’d need a whole bottle to myself to survive dinner with my ex-husband. Don’t worry, Karl will come pick me up. I won’t drive like this.”
I nodded, already feeling out of sorts. This was a terrible idea. Why had I even suggested it? I’d given into a moment of weakness, and now I’d be paying for it all night.
Terrible idea or not, Chloe looked beautiful. She was wearing a slouchy black dress and simple sandals, with her hair swept into a ponytail. The look so different from what I was used to seeing in the office. Almost as if she’d worked hard to make it look like she hadn’t made any effort.
My brain had been flooded with nothing but thoughts of her since our day together in the woods. The forest had the magical ability to cut through bullshit and pretense.
I’d seen the real Chloe then. The smart, determined, fierce woman I’d fallen in love with so long ago.
My Dragonfly. She was still in there, beneath the designer clothes and the closed-off ice queen facade.
And it was fucking with me. Because I didn’t like her anymore. I resented her.
Our youthful mistake was ancient history, yet emotions were resurfacing far too frequently and far too potently. I wasn’t sure how to manage them, especially in light of the woman currently standing in my kitchen.
She was stubborn. And superior. She’d purchased my fucking company and was going to change every detail of the one thing I’d devoted my life to.
I opened one of the bottles and poured us each a glass.
When I held hers out to her, she took it and raised it to me silently. All the air escaped me when she hit me with a soft, warm smile as she brought the glass to her lips. There were no pithy, fun toasts fitting for this situation, so silence was probably the best option.
“Have a seat,” I said, flipping a dishtowel over my shoulder. “I’m almost finished.”
She headed over to the couch and sat on one end, near Clem. My dog watched her cautiously but didn’t cower when Chloe gently stroked her ears.
“She is certainly… unique for a pit bull.”
I looked up from my chopping. “Shelter said she likely has some spaniel in her too.”
“You’re beautiful and one of a kind,” she cooed to Clem, who then did the most shocking thing I’d witnessed since my dad’s arrest. The dog jumped onto the couch and put her head in Chloe’s lap.
“You’ve got to be shitting me.” I was so blown away by the move, I almost cut myself.
Chloe sipped her wine, happily petting my dog. “What?”
“She’s afraid of everyone. Never wants to cuddle.”
“Even you?”
“Especially me. We’ve reached an understanding, but there are no spontaneous displays of doggie affection in this house.”
