Score (Gina Watson) (2 page)

Cal popped Cory in the back of the head.

Rubbing at his head, Cory said, “What the fuck?”

“I told you to keep your damn mouth shut.”

Dean said, “Uh, we already know.”

Going lightheaded, Cal asked, “How the fuck do you guys know?”

Bradley looked to both Cory and Dean, then frowned at Cal. “You texted us.”

Cal pulled his phone out of his pocket and glared at it. He quickly deleted the messages.

Cory shrugged. “What’s the big fucking deal? You won five hundred bucks.”

“No!”

“What?” Dean asked.

“No money, no bet. We don’t speak of this ever again. Is everyone clear on that?”

The men murmured their agreement. Cal pulled his brother close and said, “And you keep Alyssa’s mouth shut.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

“By not being the dick you usually are.”

Cory crossed his arms, looking just as obstinate as he had been when they were young. Cory screwed a lot of women without ever looking back. It could create problems, especially in a town as small as Whiskey Cove.

“You’ll have to play nice. Take her out a few times, let her down easy so she doesn’t retaliate.”

Cory’s eyes narrowed. “No can do, bro. That woman’s overly dramatic in the sack. You know how I hate that.”

“Cory, please. Can you make just one sacrifice to help me out?”

“Shit!” Cory stomped off.

Cory’d take care of Alyssa as well as he could. Which meant that Cal only had to deal with Chloe.

He leaned against the wall, his eyes fixed on her as she approached. She refused to look at him, even angled her body away from his when she sat.

She was still mad. Fine. She deserved to be. He recalled her angry speech from earlier. Yeah, mad was a mild word for what she’d felt. But she’d revealed more than anger. She’d admitted that she thought of him. Just as he’d thought of her. Her words hadn’t been all that coherent when she’d been ranting, but her admission indicated she’d thought about them being intimate. Course, then she’d gone and called him a man-whore. That was harsh. He wasn’t really, promiscuous. He’d just done what every other male did at college—gotten drunk at parties and headed off with a girl.

Just because it had been a different girl at every party didn’t mean he was a man-whore.

He crossed his arms. She could pretend he didn’t exist for now, but that shit wasn’t going to fly when they got home. Chloe Mills wasn’t going to ignore him for long. Not after sharing her bed and her body with him.

He shifted when he grew hard at the remembered perfection of her body. He needed to get to the bottom of her wanting.

No, she wasn’t going to write him off. Six condoms said there was something between them, something worth exploring.

And the next time he explored Chloe’s body, he planned to be sober. He intended to not only imprint himself on her so she wouldn’t so easily be able to turn away, he intended to brand his memory and his own body with her every response and her scent and her flavor.

2

C
HLOE HAD GRADUATED with a degree in marketing. The only problem was, she couldn’t obtain a job in this market. That was how she found herself back at Louisiana State University majoring in speech pathology. She was in her last semester and currently finishing her internship at Baton Rouge General Hospital.

She’d been working with her patient Steve LeBlanc and his wife and two daughters. The stress was taking a toll on her, though she’d never admit it. Her family and the LeBlanc family attended the same church. While watching her patients struggle was difficult, that difficulty was magnified a thousand when she knew her patient. Chloe had cried herself to sleep more than once because of Steve’s bleak prognosis.

Steve had been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease more than two years ago. Chloe had been working with him for so long now that it was hard to remember Steve had been a healthy thirty-six-year-old with a solid real estate career and a growing family. To look at him now one would never believe there had been so much life behind those blue eyes. From his hospital bed, he observed his girls and his wife when they came to visit. And that was all he could do—watch. He couldn’t even eat as those muscles had been taken from him too. He received nourishment through a tube, and the subsequent weight loss left him unrecognizable to even his closest friends.

Chloe witnessed a hint of a sparkle in his eyes whenever he looked at his wife, which always comforted her. She hoped Sharon could see it too. Sharon LeBlanc had been strong these last few months, watching as Steve’s condition had deteriorated to the point that now the only muscles he could control were those that innervated the eyes. He’d gone down fast, so fast it was hard for Chloe to keep up. She had to continuously adjust his communication device. At first he was able to supplement his speech with use of an alphabet board. When he could no longer use the speech muscles, Chloe had ordered a speech output computer, but Steve couldn’t even use that device anymore. God knew she tried to be encouraging, but she understood the moment he’d told her he had no fight left in him and asked her to look after his girls, all three of them. She’d told him it would be an honor and he needn’t worry. He said he knew they would be in good hands.

Today Chloe was seated at Steve’s bedside in the hospital where she interned. The girls, Sarah and Riley, and Sharon were there. They were talking about getting frozen yogurt on the way home. Sharon worked nights now that Steve no longer had income, and Chloe watched the girls on the nights Sharon worked. Tonight she’d have the girls. Chloe had offered to help monetarily so Sharon wouldn’t have to work, but Sharon wouldn’t hear of it. The entire town knew Chloe’s family had money, knew it wouldn’t be missed, but Sharon had refused. She’d taken on Steve’s role as provider for her family, trying to make their lives as normal as she could. Chloe couldn’t fault her for that.

≈

You spent four thousand dollars on video equipment boy?

As Cal walked into the hospital where Chloe worked, he deleted his father’s text. He wondered what it would be like to have a father who believed in his work. Cal was finishing his coursework for a graduate degree in film studies, loving what he did, jazzed about the possibilities that technology brought to the art. His professors told Cal he was talented, said he had the drive and the skills, even the insight, necessary to make a name in the field, but Clifton St. Martin wouldn’t know anything about that, not having attended his son’s academic awards banquet. Not having been interested in most of Cal’s projects.

Cal shrugged it off. His dad had his own interests and dreams, and they’d never matched Cal’s. He’d been hoping for his dad’s acceptance since he’d been a teen, but he’d been disappointed every time. He didn’t know why he expected anything different from the man.

He shook off the familiar and pointless thoughts and turned his mind toward Chloe. That subject brought pleasure rather than disgust.

Cal had thought of nothing but her over the last few days since his return to Baton Rouge. The image of her that night in Vegas haunted his dreams, and he wasn’t concentrating very well in his classes either. He was supposed to have turned in his master’s thesis outline but with his every thought consumed by Chloe, he was behind. Every morning he woke hard as steel. He could recall her every sound during the height of his possession of her body. He remembered how her sweat-streaked skin glistened in the moonlight filtering in from the window in the cheap motel. He remembered the feel of her muscles as she contracted around him. He remembered her heat. And he’d been hard ever since. He’d even resorted to whacking off in the shower, something he hadn’t done since his teens.

He’d called, texted, and emailed Chloe since that night, yet she refused to respond. He was glad to have an excuse to find her—her expensive Tag Heuer watch had made it into his belongings. Given the extent of what was some serious marathon sex, Cal guessed how that could have happened.

As he neared the nurses station, Cal saw a face he hadn’t seen since the last time he was at church, Easter morning. “Mrs. LeBlanc. It’s nice to see you.”

When she saw him, she smiled warmly. “Caleb, please stop making me feel old and call me Sharon.”

Caleb leaned over to give her a hug.

The nurse behind the counter ogled Cal, her eyes slowly studying him. He was used to the reaction and smiled. He didn’t add any heat to the smile, however. He was looking for Chloe, not a woman interested in a thrill or a quickie in some empty closet.

The nurse greeted Cal with a large toothy smile and bright eyes. “What can I do for you today?”

Cal checked out the nurse’s nametag. “Nancy, I’m looking for Chloe Mills. Am I in the right place?”

Sharon tugged at his sleeve. “In fact, you are. Come with me.”

When Sharon and Cal stopped at the door to Steve’s hospital room, they saw Chloe hoist a big camera to her shoulder.

“Okay, girls, climb up on the bed next to Daddy.” The girls squealed and did as they were told, looking up at Chloe with wide grins. “And where is it you want to go when we leave here?”

In unison they answered, “Ice cream!”

Chloe’s muffled voice answered from behind the large camera. “Ice cream? I thought you said you were in the mood for broccoli and brussels sprouts.” More squeals came from the girls.

Cal stood alongside Sharon, taking in the scene. He remembered his father telling him something about Steve LeBlanc being ill, but he’d had no idea it was this dire. Cal remembered Steve had worked with the St. Martin family quite a few times over the years. He didn’t look good now. In fact, he was hardly recognizable as the man Cal had known.

Cal wondered about the old VHS camcorder Chloe used and asked Sharon about it.

“Chloe lent me a digital recorder, but it got stolen out of my car so she brought in this old one. She’s making videos for us so the girls will remember their father when they’re older. It’s really a godsend because I wouldn’t have even thought of it with everything else that’s going on.” They both turned back to the girls in the bed.

Chloe slowly lowered the heavy camera. When she saw Cal, she blushed furiously. Voice breathy, she said, “What are you doing here?”

He reached into his pocket. “I’m returning your watch. I tried calling and texting, but you won’t answer me.”

With his statement, and the fact that he had her watch, he’d just revealed they’d been intimately involved, but he couldn’t help himself. He’d always loved to goad her.

She didn’t disappoint—a blush bloomed and worked its way across her cheeks and down her neck. She laid the camera on a chair and strode to Cal to retrieve her watch. With clenched fists and tight lips she said, “Thank you.”

Cal shifted. Damn, just watching her walk, hearing her voice, aroused him.

From the bed one of the girls asked, “Why do you have Chloe’s watch?”

Cal knelt beside the bed and answered, “Because Chloe’s a silly-willy girl who forgot to put her watch on this morning and she needs it for work.” The girls laughed at him. Steve made eye contact, and Cal nodded. The girl closest to Cal reached her hands out and leaped into his arms. Steve’s eyes filled with liquid. Cal didn’t know what to do. He simply stood staring at Steve with a wiggling girl in his arms. Seconds ticked by.

Chloe cleared her throat. “All right, girls, it’s time for us to get going. Tell your mom and dad goodnight and meet me in the hallway.” Chloe hugged Sharon and said goodbye to Steve. Cal followed her out to the nurses station.

Just being near her brought back erotic memories from that one night. Cal moved even closer. Closed his eyes and inhaled her scent.

Chloe tapped into a computer nestled into a nook against the wall, and Cal stepped back to give her privacy to update Steve’s chart. But he watched her every gesture and nuance, hoping for a sign that she was as affected by his presence as he was by hers.

Chloe’s head turned to meet his gaze. Her brow rose. “Cal?”

“I like ice cream.”

“You want to go with us?”

“I do.”

“Why?”