he wasn’t telling.
Chapter Six
Sitting in the diner with Harper, Chloe tried to pretend an appetite.
Since, under normal circumstances, she horked down more than her fair share of breakfast when they met for food, Harper would know something was up if she picked at the food. Even if it was as tempting as sawdust. “So, when is the blessed event?”
Harper added more cream to her coffee before answering. “Two weeks. This sure has been a busy summer for weddings. Anyway, Lucy said the bachelorette party is this Friday night.”
“Do you really want to go see a bunch of strange men stripping down to their shining silver thongs?” Chloe poked at an egg yolk and tilted her head at Harper.
“No. I mean, I have Dylan at home. Who needs strippers?” Harper giggled, happiness written on every inch of her face.
“Everyone needs strippers, dear.” Mrs. Miller, walking past their table with her husband, paused to interrupt their chat. “Strippers make the world just a little more fun.”
Chloe covered her smile. “Seen a lot of strippers, Mrs. Miller?”
Mr. Miller caught his wife’s arm before she could answer, inserting, “She not only saw them. Tell the girls about the time you bit one in the behind, hon.”
“You bit a stripper on the ass?” Chloe didn’t cover her jaw drop.
“Don’t be crass, dear. And before you ask, yes, alcohol was involved.”
“But you guys are happily married and—”
Mrs. Miller cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Happily is the key word there, Chloe. We don’t lie to one another and to pretend that we can’t find beauty in a well-made body of the opposite sex is little more than a lie. I like to look at pretty men. Mr. Miller, here, likes to look at a well put together woman. Nothing wrong with that. That part is nature. Love is coming home to the one that matters, even when their skin starts to sag and their hair starts to gray. You know that, though.”
Actually, Chloe had a hard time believing in it.
Knowing tonight was the big date, she stabbed the poor egg again, since it was defenseless on her plate and therefore easy to abuse. Harper and the Millers continued to speak but all that roared through Chloe’s mind was the knowledge that Jack wanted marriage, two point five kids, and happily ever after.
And though she planned to go out with him tonight, she still didn’t believe it was a realistic desire. She couldn’t have kids, miscarriages proving that when she was younger, and she sucked at relationships.
Why the hell did she suddenly wish she didn’t know those very important factoids?
***
The movie theater was dark and the smell of hot buttered popcorn a rich temptation in the air. Chloe watched the people moving across the screen, but her attachment to the plot was tenuous at best.
How could she even pretend to care what happened to the actors in this stupid movie with Jack, smelling clean and absolutely edible, right next to her?
And his arm kept brushing hers.
Stupid. It seemed unbelievably stupid to feel a zing of awareness each time his arm brushed hers, but she did.
When his hand curled over hers, in a completely comfortable and wholesome way, she couldn’t help but watch a movie of her own, played behind her eyelids—them as horny young kids in a movie theater doing things that got them kicked out.
She couldn’t remember what movie that had been either.
His fingers ran slowly back and forth across her wrist, causing a fresh wave of lust to break over her.
Did someone just learn to fly in the movie? What the hell was this flick about, anyway?
Not sure, but wishing the people on the screen would distract her from the man currently filling her thoughts, she tried to focus.
His laughter rumbled out of his chest, undoubtedly because of some funny bit of the movie, but the sound rolled her under.
It wasn’t fair she was dying in unrequited lust while he just sat there, enjoying the film.
She released his hand to take a sip of
Chapter Six
Sitting in the diner with Harper, Chloe tried to pretend an appetite.
Since, under normal circumstances, she horked down more than her fair share of breakfast when they met for food, Harper would know something was up if she picked at the food. Even if it was as tempting as sawdust. “So, when is the blessed event?”
Harper added more cream to her coffee before answering. “Two weeks. This sure has been a busy summer for weddings. Anyway, Lucy said the bachelorette party is this Friday night.”
“Do you really want to go see a bunch of strange men stripping down to their shining silver thongs?” Chloe poked at an egg yolk and tilted her head at Harper.
“No. I mean, I have Dylan at home. Who needs strippers?” Harper giggled, happiness written on every inch of her face.
“Everyone needs strippers, dear.” Mrs. Miller, walking past their table with her husband, paused to interrupt their chat. “Strippers make the world just a little more fun.”
Chloe covered her smile. “Seen a lot of strippers, Mrs. Miller?”
Mr. Miller caught his wife’s arm before she could answer, inserting, “She not only saw them. Tell the girls about the time you bit one in the behind, hon.”
“You bit a stripper on the ass?” Chloe didn’t cover her jaw drop.
“Don’t be crass, dear. And before you ask, yes, alcohol was involved.”
“But you guys are happily married and—”
Mrs. Miller cut her off with a wave of her hand. “Happily is the key word there, Chloe. We don’t lie to one another and to pretend that we can’t find beauty in a well-made body of the opposite sex is little more than a lie. I like to look at pretty men. Mr. Miller, here, likes to look at a well put together woman. Nothing wrong with that. That part is nature. Love is coming home to the one that matters, even when their skin starts to sag and their hair starts to gray. You know that, though.”
Actually, Chloe had a hard time believing in it.
Knowing tonight was the big date, she stabbed the poor egg again, since it was defenseless on her plate and therefore easy to abuse. Harper and the Millers continued to speak but all that roared through Chloe’s mind was the knowledge that Jack wanted marriage, two point five kids, and happily ever after.
And though she planned to go out with him tonight, she still didn’t believe it was a realistic desire. She couldn’t have kids, miscarriages proving that when she was younger, and she sucked at relationships.
Why the hell did she suddenly wish she didn’t know those very important factoids?
***
The movie theater was dark and the smell of hot buttered popcorn a rich temptation in the air. Chloe watched the people moving across the screen, but her attachment to the plot was tenuous at best.
How could she even pretend to care what happened to the actors in this stupid movie with Jack, smelling clean and absolutely edible, right next to her?
And his arm kept brushing hers.
Stupid. It seemed unbelievably stupid to feel a zing of awareness each time his arm brushed hers, but she did.
When his hand curled over hers, in a completely comfortable and wholesome way, she couldn’t help but watch a movie of her own, played behind her eyelids—them as horny young kids in a movie theater doing things that got them kicked out.
She couldn’t remember what movie that had been either.
His fingers ran slowly back and forth across her wrist, causing a fresh wave of lust to break over her.
Did someone just learn to fly in the movie? What the hell was this flick about, anyway?
Not sure, but wishing the people on the screen would distract her from the man currently filling her thoughts, she tried to focus.
His laughter rumbled out of his chest, undoubtedly because of some funny bit of the movie, but the sound rolled her under.
It wasn’t fair she was dying in unrequited lust while he just sat there, enjoying the film.
She released his hand to take a sip of
Similar Books
