“Do you want to come inside?”I ask, immediately thinking better of it.Last night blurred a line that we shouldn’t even be near.
“Thanks, but I’ve gotta go to work.We’re always super busy the day after a storm.People like getting out after being cooped up, and they all want to share storm stories.You know how it is.”
I really don’t.If this was Philly, everyone would already be getting back to their normal lives like the storm never happened.Racing to their next meeting or trying to beat rush hour traffic.
“I’m so sorry again about your truck.”Chloe pouts.
So am I.
“Isn’t it kind of funny that I got lectured on tree safety in storms, yetyourcar’s the one that had its ass handed to it?”she adds.
Yeah, yeah.Probably not the time to point out that her tree is the one that fell.“Everything go okay with your dad when you got back?”I ask instead.
She glances down.“Yeah.”
That’s all she gives me—one word, which I don’t believe in the slightest.Her face is telling me a different story.
“Oh!I almost forgot.I’ve come bearing gifts,” she says before I can push for more.“This one’s first.”She hands me the bag.
I peer inside it to find the T-shirt and sweatpants I loaned her yesterday, both neatly folded and smelling like a basket of coconuts.There’s something else in the bag.A canvas painting of a… crab?
I glance up, my brows lifting as I wait for an explanation.
“When I first saw it, it made me think of you.Now, it’s yours.Something to remember us by when you leave.”
A chuckle slips out.“Thank you.”That’s so sweet.This woman really is something else.
“You’re welcome.Now, open your hand.”
I hold out my upturned palm.She presses a car key into it.
“That’s the key to Wilma.You can use her until your truck gets fixed.”
“Chloe—no.”
She holds up a hand.“You took me in last night when you didn’t have to, and now I want to do something for you.”
I tilt my head, my eyes fused to hers.“Taking you in last night wasn’t exactly a hardship.”
“No?”Her gaze drops south to my sweatpants, clinging there before rising back to my eyes.“It seemed pretty hard to me.”
She flips her sunglasses down over her eyes, grins, and heads back to where a little hybrid is parked beside her yellow Cabriolet.
“Are you sure about the car?”I call out, but Chloe just gives me a big “bon voyage” sort of wave, then slips into the waiting vehicle.
I stare after her for way too long.
I think about the last words she said for even longer.
Chloe’s sweatshirtand jeans from yesterday are still in my dryer.I fish them out, and a scrap of lace slips into my hand.My fingers freeze against Chloe’s panties, then curl into the silky fabric.
Ignoring the burn in my sweatpants, I snatch the rest of her clothes out of the dryer and stuff everything inside the canvas bag she gave me.
After I eat a second round of toast, I head outside to check the house properly for storm damage.Some of the siding came off, but other than that, it thankfully held up all right.
Chloe’s shack, on the other hand, is missing more shingles off the roof, debris is scattered everywhere, and one of her water pipes is bent.I’m not licensed to do any major work on her house, but surely I can help a friend out with some small repairs.It’s not like her dad is out here cleaning things up.
Still, I don’t want to overstep.
