Divorced, Desperate and Dead (Divorced and Desperate Book 5) (28 page)

“Oh, baby, come here. Mama’s home.” Chloe grabbed her black cat, held it to her chest, and cooed in its ear. “I’m sorry this mean man wouldn’t let me come back last night. You need a snack? I bet you do.” She cut Cary a smile as she took off to the kitchen to get the cat treats.

Cary watched her disappear and then went to the window and looked out. He’d called Chase Kelly on the drive here to see if Joey was still watching the place. He was. Cary then called Joey, to let him know they were coming. The big guy said no one had come a-calling.

Which was odd. They knew where she lived, had shot up her bakery, but hadn’t bothered to come here? From the window, he could see where he’d run after J.D. Andrews, and remembered the kid just standing there. Nothing about any of this was adding up.

He moved away from the window to a bookshelf. Chloe didn’t have near the amount of books her mom had, but the apple didn’t fall that far from the tree. He looked at the titles. Some of them appeared to be old, and all a part of a series. Had she read these as a kid?

He moved up the bookcase and spotted some newer releases. Romance novels. On the next shelf were some photos. The same picture of her and her dad holding fishing poles. One of her with her mom and dad. And another of her as a teenager, with a friend. He studied the face of her friend and it appeared to be Sheri, without the pink hair.

He heard Chloe walk back in and he looked over his shoulder. “Is this Sheri?”

“Yeah.”

“How long have you two been friends?”

“Since kindergarten,” she said.

He looked back at the books. “Have you read all of these?”

“Of course,” she said. “That’s my keeper shelf.”

He noticed she had a bag of cat food in her hands and she set it by the door. “Can I help you get anything?”

“I think the cat carrier is on the top shelf of my hall closet,” she said. “I can get it, but I’ll need a chair.”

“I’ll get it,” he said.

She followed him into the hall.

“I’ve got an extra litter box I can bring.” She bit down on her lip. “Are you sure you wouldn’t just prefer I go back to my mom’s. It’s a lot of stuff.”

“It’s not that much,” he lied. He opened the closet and reached up for the cat carrier. When he did, he saw what was hanging below. A wedding dress covered in clear plastic.

It hit him then. Who Chloe Sanders was. The kind of woman who wanted and deserved the white dress. The white picket fence. She was a keeper. She kept her books, kept her friends.  Kept her wedding dress that she’d never worn. She was the kind of woman men kept. And he wasn’t the keeping kind.

What the hell was he doing?

He turned around to tell her that she was right. She’d be better off at her mom’s. But he saw her staring at that dress. This was going to hurt her. And, bam, there it was again—that need to protect her, to fix the wrongs in her life.

She blinked and a slight sheen of emotion brightened her eyes. “Wow, can you believe I forgot it was there?”

“Do you want me to toss it in the garbage?” And while he was at it, he’d throw away the two presents.

She shook her head. “It cost over five thousand dollars.”

“Then sell it,” he said.

She nipped at her bottom lip. “Can you imagine me explaining why I’m selling an unused wedding dress?” She shook her head. “I’ll probably donate it to Goodwill.” She moved closer and ran her hand over the plastic cover. Exhaling, she looked up at him. “It looked really good on me, too.” There was a smile on her lips. A small one.

“Did it?” he asked.

“Yeah, it hid every flaw. I felt . . . like a princess. And I’m not even into the whole princess thing. The day I found it, I’ll bet I tried on fifty wedding dresses and none of them felt right. But the moment Sheri zipped this one up, I loved it. I didn’t want to take it off.”

“Well, I’d argue you don’t have any flaws, but. . .” He pulled out the dress and held it to her. “Let me see.”

She looked at him as if he was crazy. Maybe he was. But he wanted to see her in that dress. And for some unknown reason, he thought it might help. Let her put it on. Let her feel like a princess again. Make her realize that she didn’t deserve what happened to her.

“What?”

“Put it on. I want to see you in it.”

She laughed. “You’re joking.”

“No, I’m serious. You say it looks good on you. I want to see.”

She hesitated, then laughed. “Fine.” She grabbed it and ran into her bedroom.

He stared at the bedroom door for the next five minutes, his gut tightening, worried this had been a terrible mistake. Then the door opened. She swung around before he got a good look at her. “You gotta zip it.”

He moved in. Her shoulders were bare. Her hair, a little messy, but beautiful all the same, hung around those delicate shoulders. Reaching down he found the little tab and pulled up the zipper.

She turned around. “You’ll have to imagine me with makeup on and my hair up.” She pulled her hair on top of her head. A few loose strands fell to the side of her face.

His breath caught. Hung in his lungs. Fuck. It had been a terrible mistake.

“What do you think?” she asked.

His chest gripped. “I think . . . that you’re right. And you’re wrong.” He exhaled. “That dress is amazing. You do look like a princess. But it doesn’t hide your flaws, it just shows you for what you are. Stunning.” He nudged her to stand in front of the dresser.

“Look at you. You are so goddamn beautiful. On the outside. On the inside. And you were correct. That’s the right dress. Jerry just wasn’t the right guy. Keep . . . looking for the right guy.”
But not here. Don’t look here.

Their eyes met in the mirror. He felt a knot rise in his stomach. “I guess we should get you packed up.”

• • •

Chloe shed the wedding dress for jeans and a t-shirt. After loading up her car, she followed Cary to his condo, looking at her phone on the passenger seat and trying to guess what time her mom would be in Florida.

Cupcake meowed from his carrier in the backseat. “Almost there,” she said in a soothing tone, but truthfully, she didn’t know where Cary lived.

“Oh, crap,” she muttered, questioning if going to his place was the right thing.

All of a sudden, her phone rang. She grabbed it, worried about Nana, but it was Sheri’s number.

She debated answering then decided she needed some moral support. Or maybe she needed Sheri to talk some sense into her. “Hey,” she said.

“Don’t you hey me,” Sheri snapped. “Your mom called me and asked who the guy was sleeping with you in your bed. So, was he awesome?”

“Better than awesome,” Chloe said. “Too good. So good, I think I’ve lost my better judgment.”

“Ooohhh. This sounds good. What are you doing?”

“I’m following him to his place. I agreed to spend the night. Tell me I’m totally crazy.”

“Wow. He asked you back to his place?”

“Yeah.”

“He really likes you then.”

“How do you know?”

“Duh, a guy’s not going to bring you to his place if he really thinks it’s a one-night stand.”

“Yeah, but what if I kind of told him it was okay if it was?”

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know. I could tell he was still scared of me and I . . . I didn’t want him to run away. So I told him I wasn’t looking for promises.”

When Sheri didn’t say anything right away, Chloe felt more panic start bubbling inside her. “I screwed up, didn’t I?”

“Not necessarily,” Sheri said. “I still think it’s a good sign that he asked you back to his place.”

“Oh God, Sheri, I can’t think straight when I’m with him. He asked me to try on my wedding dress and I did it. At first, he was just telling me how beautiful I was, and then . . . and then he got quiet, like he was afraid again.”

“Whoa. Slow down. You tried on your wedding dress for him? I didn’t know you still had your wedding dress.”

“I know . . . I kind of forgot, too.”

“Okay, don’t panic. I mean, he hasn’t taken back the invitation to stay at his house, has he?”

“No, but . . .”

“Then chill. I mean, you two did meet in the afterlife. I think that might be a sign that you two are soul mates.”

Chloe took a deep breath and realized how selfish she was being. She wasn’t the only one who had boy problems. “Speaking of soul mates . . . how did the red underwear go over?”

“Ugh. We’ll talk about that later.”

“You didn’t have sex?”

“No,” Sheri said.

“Sheri, I’m so sorry. You just need to bite the bullet and talk to him.” A terrible thought hit. “You don’t think Kevin’s depressed, do you?”

“No, I think he just . . . fell out of love with me, and doesn’t know how to tell me. And sadly, I’m not sure I haven’t done the same.”

“You still need to talk.”

“I know,” Sheri said. “And we will. Eventually.” She exhaled. “So you’re staying at his place tonight. Are you planning to go back to your place tomorrow? If you want, you can stay here. We can commiserate.”

“Yeah, that might work.” Chloe followed Cary into a condo parking lot.

“Good. Kevin is leaving early tomorrow. Just come over when you want. You can tell me all about your great sex and I can live vicariously though you.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Chloe said, trying to lighten the tone.

“Oh, honey, it’s not the kissing I want to hear about. It’s the good stuff that comes after the kissing.”

They both laughed. “Look, I’m pulling into his place now. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay, have fun. You deserve this.”

“Thanks,” Chloe said.

She parked beside Cary. She saw him getting out of his Camaro and walking toward her car. He wasn’t smiling. Did he regret asking her to come here?

Maybe she shouldn’t even unload her stuff. Just offer him a thanks and drive off.

• • •

J.D. had waited for hours for Cary Stevens to call or maybe even to show up.  He hadn’t done either. Sitting in his empty bedroom, hungry and so bored he occasionally talked to the angel stain on the ceiling, he dialed the police station’s number again and asked to speak to Detective Stevens.

“He’s not here,” the woman asked. “Is this an emergency? If so, I can connect you with another officer in homicide.”

He considered it, but his gut said it needed to be that Stevens guy. He hadn’t shot J.D. when he’d had the chance. That had to mean something. “No, but can you tell me when he’ll be in?”

“I’m not aware of his schedule, which is why I might suggest you speak with another officer.”

J.D. gripped the phone tighter in frustration. “No, just give me his voicemail please.”

Listening to the voice message and waiting for the beep, he tried to decide what to say. He’d said everything that needed to be said, hadn’t he? The beep came.

“Yeah, it’s J.D. again. I need to talk to you, and to see you. Again, I’m at my grandmother’s old place. Call me.” He hung up, and feeling exasperated, he slammed his shoulder back against the bedroom wall. “Goddamn it!”

His gaze shifted up to the ceiling where the angel seemed to be staring down at him. “Yeah, I’m not supposed to say that, but I’m hungry, I’m going to run out of minutes on my phone, I’m out of gas, and I don’t have much money. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

The angel didn’t answer him. Of course she didn’t answer him. Closing his eyes, he curled up on the floor and tried to decide what to do next. He couldn’t wait forever. If the cop didn’t call him back soon, he was going to have to come up with a new plan.

He closed his eyes and tried to decide what that new plan might be.

• • •

Chloe stood right outside her car door and met Cary. “Why don’t you bring in the cat and I’ll get the rest of this stuff?”

Ask if he’s sure he wants you here? Ask him!

“Are you sure?” It wasn’t the direct question she’d planned to ask, but was close.

“Yeah.”

Now she was left to wonder why he didn’t sound so sure.

“Okay,” she said. Now, away from the car, holding the cat carrier as still as she could, she spoke softly to Cupcake to calm the feline. She didn’t know what she could do for Cary—except leave. He seemed almost as freaked out as her cat.

What had she been thinking? Sure, it had been his idea, but she should have known that trying on a wedding dress for a commitment phobic boyfriend was stupid.

Yeah, really stupid.

Or was it?

For some crazy, insane reason, it was as if trying the dress on had changed something—for her, not him. Or maybe it just made her realize things had changed.

That dress should have plopped her right back in that painful mental state of grief and anger over Jerry’s suicide, and for a few seconds, it had. But, then when she had that dress on, she felt it again. Like a princess. It was as if she’d suddenly realized that while Jerry had taken his life and hers, her dreams hadn’t really died. They, like the dress, had just been left in a closet, forgotten. Neglected.

As absurd as it sounded, it was as if Cary had known trying on that dress would somehow wake something up inside of her. But how could he have known that?

He carried the litter box and bag of litter in one hand, and pulled her small suitcase with a few clothes, makeup, and her laptop in the other. Give him an out, the little voice in her head said. Tell him you don’t have to stay.

He sat the things down on the small porch to unlock the door.

A shrill bark came from the other side.

Cupcake hissed. Chloe looked at him. “Do you have a dog?”

“Shit!” he growled.

“What?” she asked.

“My sister.”

“What about your sister?” she asked, confused.

“She’s still here.” He opened the door, holding his foot in front of the door to block a small dog from running outside. “Kelly?” he called out his sister’s name.

Chapter Thirty-one

Chloe stood there holding the cat carrier as Cupcake meowed and shifted anxiously from one side to the other.

“Kelly?” Cary called again. If his sister was there, she wasn’t answering.