Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 (15 page)

“So you're protecting
me
? You think I need protecting from a slimeball like that?”

How had this gotten so out of hand so fast? She drew in a slow breath and told her racing heart to settle the heck down. “Please. Can we dial this back? Can we
not
have this argument right here in the middle of the stairs?”

He answered much too quietly, “Sure, Chloe. Where, then?”

“How about if we just don't have this argument at all?”

He was not about to let it go. “
Where
, Chloe?”

Fair enough. She gestured toward the top of the stairs. “The great room, then.”

He turned around and marched back up. Reluctantly, she followed.

In the sitting area, he took an easy chair and she took the sofa. They faced off across the coffee table.

He asked, oh so reasonably, “Did you write that sucker an email and tell him to leave you alone?”

“Yes, I did. And then I blocked the address he used.”

“Good.” He dropped his tablet on the coffee table and leaned toward her, powerful forearms braced on his spread knees. “So, what's the sudden issue with letting him know that you're with me now and I know what he's up to?”

“It's an overreaction.”

“The hell it is.”

“Flowers, Quinn. He sent flowers once, a month ago. And he emailed me two weeks ago. That's all he's done.”

He made a low, angry sound deep in his throat. “All he's done? He hit you, more than once. He cheated on you. And then when you divorced him, he wouldn't leave you alone. It got so bad you moved back home. And now he's started in again.”

“I'm talking about recently.”

“You're lying to yourself.”

“Two times,” she repeated. “Two times he's contacted me in more than a year. Flowers and one email. And now I'm keeping a record of every move he makes on me. I've blocked his email address and he won't be sending me flowers from Bloom again. I've told him, in no uncertain terms, to get lost. That's enough for now. That's...appropriate to the situation.”

“Appropriate.” He said it as if it tasted really bad in his mouth. “Tell you what. Forget it. Let's drop this right now. Have it your way. Let it go.”

“Great. All I need is your word that you won't be looking him up online or calling some private investigator to find him. Promise me you won't go off on your own and contact him.”

“I'm not agreeing to that.”

“Then we're not done here. I mean it, Quinn. You have to stay out of this. Ted is not your problem.”

“You keep saying that.” He sat back, then forward again. She saw the born fighter in him so clearly right then. Testosterone seemed to come off him in waves. “Ted
is
my problem.” He growled the words. “Anything that ties you in knots and keeps you awake nights and drives a wedge between us...” He jerked his thumb toward his broad chest. “My problem.”

She folded her arms protectively across her middle, realized she was doing it, and unfolded them again. “Ted is... He can be a real snake, Quinn.” Across the low table from her, he shifted again, furious, coiled, ready for action. She went on before he could interrupt. “He's a really good lawyer. Clever. Ruthless. You get in touch with him, you could end up slapped with a restraining order, or even a lawsuit.”

Quinn shot to his feet, the move lightning-fast. He was sitting across from her—and all at once, he was looming above her. But when he spoke his voice was careful and even. “You think I give a good damn about his dirty tricks?”

She answered truthfully, “No, I don't. But
I
do. I care if he makes trouble for you. I will not be the cause of that. I just won't.”

“You won't be the cause of anything. Your ex,
he's
the cause. And I'm responsible for my own actions. It's not on you if I communicate with Ted. So whatever he tries on me, fine. He can bring it.”

Where to even start? “Will you please just...sit down?”

He surprised her by doing what she asked, dropping back into the chair and leaning forward on his spread knees again. “I told you last night that I'm not going to be anything but polite and respectful to that piece of crap.”

“You're missing the point. I'll say it again. This is
my
problem and you don't get to solve it. I don't want you to solve it. That wouldn't be right.”

“Yeah, it
is
right. You're with me and I stand up for what's mine.”

“No, Quinn.”

“Wait.” His eyes burned into hers. “Now you're telling me you're not mine?”

So strange. Such fury in him right now—and yet she wasn't in the least afraid of him. She knew he would never hurt her, never lay a finger on her in anger, that all he wanted was to protect her.

But in this particular situation, she couldn't let him do that.

“Are you mine or not?” he demanded again.

And she gave him a slow, very definite nod. “I am yours, Quinn. Yes. Absolutely.”

Heat flared in his eyes and he said, low and evenly, “Give me that email address.”

“No.”

“Damn it, Chloe.”

“Don't swear at me. Listen. I don't feel I have to protect you from Ted and I certainly don't feel I have to protect him from anything. I am with you and only you. You're the one for me. I want your help. I want your strength and your support and I'm grateful for your advice. What I don't want is you standing up
for
me. The whole point here is that I have to learn how to stand up for myself.”

He seemed unable to stay in the chair then. Shooting upright again, he glared down at her. “I don't like it. That guy needs to know you got backup, that you're not alone and the man you're with now will fight for you.”

“It's my choice, Quinn. Tell me that you will respect my choice. Please.”

“Angel, you ask too much.”

“Please.”

He turned from her, went to the wall of windows and stood staring out, feet apart, hands linked behind him. She resisted the powerful need to plead with him some more. Finally, he said, “I don't like it.”

“I get that. It's painfully clear.”

He faced her again. “Do I still have your word that you'll tell me if he sends you more flowers or tries in any way to get in touch with you again?”

“Yes.”

“Then all right. I won't contact him. Until he makes some other jackass move, I'll stand down.”

Chapter Twelve

A
fter Quinn agreed not to contact Ted, the night went on pretty much as usual. They sat out on the deck under the clear night sky. They made beautiful, passionate love.

But it wasn't the same, not really. Except for their lovemaking, which was as intense and ardent as ever, something was missing. There was a certain edge between them. A certain distance.

Chloe hated that distance. But what could she do? No way would she give him her blessing to get into it with Ted.

The next evening, he came over at six-thirty. In the half hour before her mother's arrival, Chloe reminded him that she was running this little talk. He was there to lend support.

He didn't even argue. “I get that. No problem.”

His immediate acceptance of her terms surprised her a little after how hard he'd fought her on the issue of his contacting Ted.

And he knew it, too.

He said wryly, “No worries. I don't want to give your mom a bad time. She's going to be my mother-in-law, remember? Eventually I'm hoping she and I can get along together.”

“Have you
met
my mother?”

He chuckled then, an easy sound. She dared to hope that maybe they were getting past their disagreement of the night before.

The doorbell rang right at seven.

Chloe opened the door. Her mother stood there in tan trousers, a cream-colored silk blouse and the triple strand of Mikimoto pearls Chloe's dad had bought her for their thirtieth anniversary four years ago.

“Chloe,” Linda said with a cool nod.

“Mom.” She stepped back. “Come in.”

Linda spotted Quinn as she crossed the threshold. She put her hand to her pearls and arched an eyebrow at Chloe. “I didn't realize
he
would be here.”

Quinn moved closer. He didn't seem the least offended by her mother's snotty tone. “Good to see you, Mrs. Winchester.”

Her mother blinked at his outstretched hand as though she feared it would bite. But then she gave in and took it. “Hello, Quinn.”

Quinn might not be upset by Linda's attitude, but Chloe had to resist the urge to boot her mother right back out the door. “Tell him to call you Linda, Mother.”

Her mother sent her a barbed look—then caught herself and said in a tight voice, “Yes. Please call me Linda.”

“Will do.”

Chloe gestured toward the sitting area, and they filed over there. Chloe and Quinn took the couch. Linda perched on one of the chairs.

“I thought maybe you would bring Dad with you,” Chloe said.

Linda carefully placed her folded hands on her pressed-together knees. “He wanted to come. But I was under the impression it would be just the two of us, just...between us.” She sent a disapproving glance in Quinn's direction and then swung her reproachful gaze right back to Chloe. “So I insisted that I would come alone.” She cleared her throat, an officious little sound. “That's a beautiful ring. I hope...you'll be very happy.” The words seemed to stick in her throat. Still, they were a definite improvement over the awful things she'd said about Quinn a few weeks ago and yesterday on the phone.

“Thank you, Linda,” said Quinn.

Chloe put in, “Give Dad my love, will you?”

A grudging nod. And apparently, Linda had decided she'd had quite enough of making polite noises. “Now, what's this about?”

“It's about Ted, Mother.”

Linda stiffened. “What more can possibly be said about Ted?”

“Well, Mom. In the past month, Ted has sent me flowers and then contacted me by email. I want nothing to do with him and I have told him that repeatedly. I've told
you
that often. But I got the impression from what you said at the first of the month that you and Ted have been in touch.”

Her mother sniffed. “Oh. I see. Now it's my fault if Ted sent you flowers.”

Quinn shifted beside Chloe. She reached over and touched his arm, reminding him of the agreement they'd made half an hour before—that he was there for support.

She said, “I'm going to ask you a direct question, Mom. I want a simple yes-or-no answer.”

Linda wore her I-am-gravely-wounded face. “What is this, an interrogation?”

“Have you been in contact with Ted since I moved back to town? Yes or no?”

“I don't see what—”

Quinn spoke up then, his voice coaxing and gentle, “We just want your help, Linda. I realize that you know already, but I think it can't hurt to say again that Ted Davies wasn't a good husband to Chloe. He punched her more than once and he betrayed her with another woman.”

“Well, I... Ahem. Yes, I'm aware. Chloe has told me all that.”

Chloe took the lead again. She tried really hard to keep the antagonism out of her voice. “So, have you been in touch with him since I moved back to Justice Creek?”

“I don't...” Linda patted her hair, straightened her shoulders. And then, finally, she confessed, “He called me.”

“How many times?”

“Once.”

“When was that?”

“The middle of July. A week before we left for Maui. He was, well, you know how kind and flattering he's always been toward me. He just said he was thinking of me and hoping I was all right. At first, when he started talking, I reminded myself I needed to tell him that I didn't approve of the way he had treated you and I was going to say goodbye now and I didn't want him to contact me again. But then he just kept on talking and telling me how horrible he felt about how it had gone with the two of you. He said you were the best thing that had ever happened to him and he missed you every hour of every day. He said that things weren't going well with him and that new wife of his, that he deeply regretted letting you go. He just...seemed so sincere.” She let out a small sound of honest distress and brought both her hands up. Pressing her fingers to her mouth, she looked at Chloe through pleading eyes.

Chloe made herself speak gently. “Ted is very good at seeming sincere.”

Linda drew in a steadying breath and put her hands in her lap again. “Yes. Yes, he is. Before he hung up, he asked me not to tell you that he had called. He said that he...didn't want to cause any trouble.”

Not cause any trouble? Ted? Now, that was a good one. “What did you tell him about me, Mother?”

“Nothing. I promise you. He did all the talking. At the end, he said he would like to send you a little card or something, just to say he was thinking of you. He asked for your address. But I told him I wasn't at liberty to give him any of your personal information. And he said of course, that was all right. He completely understood. He said if he decided to reach out to you, he would get your address some other way. He said it wouldn't be a problem. He seemed...very confident about that.”

“I'll bet.”

Linda's face crumpled, all her earlier bravado cracking to nothing, falling away. She cried, “All right. I just have to say this. I just have to tell you that I
have
been thinking, I truly have, since that horrible evening four weeks ago when you and I fought so bitterly about this. I need you to know that I... Chloe, oh, Chloe... I
know
I was wrong. I was wrong to listen to him at all, wrong not to tell him immediately to leave us alone and then hang up the phone, wrong not to tell you right away that he'd called me. He...well, he charmed me. He fed my ego. And I fell for his lies. But I did
not
tell him anything about you. I gave him no information. I swear it. I didn't!”

Quinn reached over and brushed the back of Chloe's hand. She glanced at him. His eyes spoke of forgiveness.

But Chloe wasn't to the point of forgiving her mother—not yet anyway. She said, “All right, Mom. I believe you. And the truth is if he's determined to reach me, I'm not that hard to find.”

“That's what I
told
you, remember, four weeks ago, right before you...threw me out?”

“I remember. Did Ted say anything else?”

“Not that I can think of. Really, that was it. That was all. I haven't heard a word from him before or since.”

“Did you tell Dad about that call?”

Linda shook her head. “Not until last night.”

A little wave of relief washed through Chloe that her dad hadn't known, hadn't kept that secret from her, too.

Her mother went on. “After you called to say you wanted to speak with me tonight, I just got so upset about everything. I stewed over what you would say to me, knowing that I really did need to admit to you that Ted had called me, to tell you what he said. I just...well, I started crying and I couldn't stop. Your father was so worried. He had no idea what was the matter with me. I realized I couldn't keep the truth from him a minute longer. So I ended up telling him everything, beginning with the call from Ted and ending with exactly what happened when you and I fought four weeks ago.”

“So he knows the whole story now?”

Her mother bobbed her head and fingered her pearls. “Your father's not very happy with me at the moment. I know I can't blame him for that. I only want you to know, Chloe, that I have been thinking about what I've done. Not only thinking about how I've kept a secret of the fact that Ted called me. More than that. So much more. I've been thinking of the past, too.”

“Mother, I—”

But Linda wouldn't quit. “No. Please. Don't stop me. I need to say this. I need you to know that I see now, I do. So many ways that I have been wrong. I've been thinking how very proud I was at your beautiful wine-country wedding. How sure I was that you had everything then—and that
I
deserved a lot of credit for how well you'd done, how I had worked so hard to make you the kind of woman you are, an accomplished woman who marries just the right man. I've done a lot of bragging, about you and your ‘great' life down in San Diego.”

“Mother, I just don't...” Her objections trailed off as Quinn's big hand covered hers. She drew strength from that simple touch, strength enough to let her mother continue. “Never mind. Go on.”

“Thank you,” Linda said. “Because there are so many ways I know that I've failed you. That first time you left Ted, when you came home to us and said you weren't happy with him? You said you were finished with him, you never wanted to go back. And what did I do? I pushed you to try again, to work it out, even though you told me he'd hit you, even though you said that sometimes he frightened you. I was so very proud of the fine life I thought you had, the life I had insisted you make for yourself—so proud, that I refused to see your desperate unhappiness. If I had listened to what you were telling me then, you might never have gone back to him. He wouldn't have hit you again. But you did go back. And he did hit you. And he betrayed you, too. And I see that I have to face all that now. I have to admit that it happened, to own my part in it. I have not been the mother that you deserve. But I want you to know, at least, that I do finally see how wrong I've been. I hope that someday you will find it in yourself to forgive me. I love you so much, Chloe Janine. You're the bright, shining star of my heart. I hate having to count all the ways I've let you down, all the—”

Chloe couldn't take any more. “Please stop.”

Her mother shut her mouth and stared at her, stricken.

Chloe stood. “I would like you to leave now. I need a little time, you know? To process all this.”

Linda gazed up at her, eyes brimming, mouth trembling, looking suddenly every one of her fifty-nine years. “Yes. Of course.” She got up. “I understand. I'll just...” She waved her hand, a weak little gesture, as though she couldn't recall what she'd started to say. And then she turned to go.

Chloe followed her and pulled open the door.

Linda said in a small voice, “Please believe me. I am so sorry. And I hope that someday you'll give me another chance.”

Chloe only nodded. She knew that if she said another word, she would lose it.

Quinn was right there, at her side. He said, “Linda, do you need me to drive you home?”

A single tear tracked down her cheek. She refused to wipe it away and she kept her chin high. “Thank you, Quinn. But I'll manage.”

And then she went out into the fading light. Chloe stood in the open door and watched her walk along the breezeway to her car. As soon as she disappeared around the far corner of the garage, Chloe shut the door.

So gently, Quinn took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. She didn't want to look at him. He always saw too damn much. But he put a finger under her chin and made her meet his waiting eyes.

That did it. With a hard sob, she threw herself against him.

His big arms closed around her. “Hey, now. Hey...”

Chloe held on tight to him and surrendered to her tears. She didn't even know for certain why she was crying.

Maybe it was the shock of seeing her mother like that—so broken and sad. Or maybe it was relief that for the first time in her memory, her mother had actually admitted that she'd been wrong.