Sweet Sunshine (12 page)

And the icing on the shit-filled sundae that was my night? My raging bitch of an ex-wife, standing less than two feet away from me.

“What the hell are you doing here?” I bit out between clenched teeth.

She let out a condescending
tsk
. “Now, is that any way to speak to the mother of your daughter? Are you going to introduce me to your friends?”

My mouth opened, the bitter words I was dying to hurl at her ready to bounce right off my tongue when I suddenly felt something on my hand. Looking down, I saw Chloe’s small, delicate hand clutching mine in a tight grip. The words dried up in my mouth before they even made their way out.

“Hi,” she said kindly, shocking the hell out of me by smiling politely up at Layla, aka, the fucking devil. “I’m Chloe, it’s nice to meet you.”

Her hand not currently wrapped around mine reached out to Layla in a friendly attempt at a handshake. Layla glared at it as if it were diseased before her hateful stare landed on our touching hands. “Uh… well, I just have to tell you, you have an amazing daughter,” Chloe continued. I had to give her credit; she really was making the old college try. I wanted to tell her it was pointless, that Satan was incapable of accepting or giving kindness to anyone. “I’ve had the pleasure of meeting Eliza several times and she’s absolutely wonderful.”

Layla’s lips curled derisively. “Chloe.” She sneered. “I know who you are.”

“This will be my one and only warning,” I spoke in a low, threatening voice. “You will never speak to her like that again.” Both her and Chloe looked at me with equal expressions of “
Holy shit, what’d he just say?
”

“Well isn’t that just lovely,” Layla sneered. “It’s bad enough you’re subjecting our daughter to your…
women
, but actually have the nerve to defend her to me? All I’ve heard about since you took her to that stupid carnival is how wonderful
Chloe
is!”

The woman in question, the one Layla was talking about like she wasn’t even there, opened her mouth to speak, but I cut her off, standing from my chair. “Maybe that’s because she finally realized what it was like to have a positive female role model in her life for
once
in nine goddamned years.” I stepped closer to her. “And you’re making me repeat myself, Layla. What the hell did I just say about how you talk about Chloe?”

My ex-wife was never one to back down from a challenge so I wasn’t surprised when her eyes narrowed into furious slits as she seethed in a hushed voice. “I won’t allow you to try and play family with one of your
whores
around Eliza. You think you can try and replace me? I’m her mother.”

“Excuse me!” Chloe snapped from her chair. “We’re not even together. I’m with this guy!” She threw her thumb over her shoulder to Austin who looked about two seconds away from fleeing the scene. “And he’s on a date with her!” One quick glance at Carla showed she wasn’t too far behind the roided out dick-head.

“And maybe,” I continued, ignoring Chloe’s little outburst, “if you acted like a fucking mother once in your miserable life, Eliza wouldn’t be looking to someone else to fill that role.”

“Uh… guys?” Carla spoke when neither of us did anything other than glare for several seconds. “People are starting to stare.”

“If you think I’m going to let you parade your slut around Eliza, you’ve lost your damned mind,” Layla whispered harshly.

“You know,” Chloe piped up after downing more of her wine. “I’m getting
really
sick of being called a whore and a slut. Like, for real.”

“You’ve got no right telling me how to raise my daughter when she’s with me,” I ground out. “It’s Saturday night, Layla. It’s your goddamned weekend! Care to explain where my daughter is right now?”

She crossed her arms over her chest, her haughty expression pushing at every one of my buttons. “She’s with my sister. I’m enjoying a night out with friends. Despite what you think, I
am
allowed to have a life, you know.”

I could feel the blood coursing through my veins beginning to boil. “Yeah, you can have a life. Every. Other. Fucking. Weekend. When Eliza’s in Pembrooke with me. When it’s your weekend, you spend time with her.”

“You know,” she smirked, “It’s amazing that you think I have to listen to anything you have to say. I stopped having to listen to a word you said when I left your sorry ass.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” I chuckled sarcastically, “You know damned good and well I was the one that left your ass ‘cause I was sick and tired of fucking a dead, frigid fish every night.”

She sucked in an outraged gasp. “You sorry son of a bitch!”

Austin stood, reaching into his back pocket and throwing some bills on the table. “You know what, I think I’m gonna get out of here. I just remembered, I have a… thing…”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chloe waved him off. “Run along. And while you’re at it, do me a
huge
favor and lose my phone number. M’kay? Thanks, bye.” Like the punk-ass he was, I saw Austin move away from the table out of the corner of my eye.

“Excuse me,” the server interrupted, stopping next to my stand-off with Layla. “Is there a problem here?”

Chloe answered before anyone else. “Nope, no problem. We’re actually ready for our check if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Certainly.”

“Oh!” she reached for the money on the table and handed the bills to the waiter. “And this is for the other gentleman’s check. You know, the one that kind of looked like a gorilla?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the server grinned.

“If there’s any change left, feel free to keep it.

“Thank you,” he tilted his chin up at Chloe before turning to Layla with a knowing expression. “Ma’am, may I help you back to your table?”

She might have been a bitch, but Layla wasn’t stupid, she knew a dismissal when she saw one. I was leaving our server a fat tip; that was for damned sure. Not saying another word, Layla shot one last hideous look in my direction before stomping off to whatever gutter she’d drug herself from.

As I turned back to the table, I noticed Chloe stand on wobbly legs. “Well,” she sighed heavily, obviously feeling the effects of her wine. “You two enjoy the rest of your night. Pretty sure I’m going to go home, climb in bed and pray that, when I wake up, this whole evening will have been nothing but a really bad nightmare.”

“Whoa,” I clasped her arm as she tried to pass. “No way in hell you’re driving, sunshine.”

“
Pfft
. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Yeah?” I found myself grinning for the first time since my succubus of an ex-wife walked to our table. “Tell that to the bottle of wine you downed. I’m taking you home.”

The server reappeared with our check and I deftly slid my wallet from my back pocket, placing more bills than necessary in the small black folio, but the man deserved it. It was the least I could do.

“But — my car…”

“Carla can drive it back,” I answered deftly.

“Uh, what?” I looked over to an incredulous Carla, no longer caring if she thought I was the world’s biggest asshole. There was no way I’d ever subject myself to a second date with that woman. Hell, I was already regretting agreeing to the first. “I had wine, too, you know.”

“You had a glass,” I told her. “And you didn’t even finish it.”

“But—but…” she sputtered, trying to come up with a solid argument, despite the fact it was pointless. My mind was made up. “Can’t she just take a cab or something? This is supposed to be
our
date!”

“Yeah, it was. And now it’s over. Now, I can’t imagine you’re the type of person who’d actually put the wellbeing of someone else in jeopardy by, say, putting them in a cab with a stranger when they’re highly intoxicated.” Yep, I wasn’t above guilt-tripping, not one damn bit.

“I’m not
that
drunk,” Chloe argued, folding her arms over her chest and wrinkling her brow in an adorable pout.

I ignored her. “And I certainly wouldn’t want to believe you’d rather Chloe get behind the wheel of a car after drinking when you could easily do her the kindness of driving her car home so I can put her in my truck and we
all
make it back to Pembrooke safely.” I squinted my eyes and tilted my head as I went in for the kill. “Or am I completely wrong about you?”

“Fine,” she said through clenched teeth, throwing her napkin onto the table. “You know, this probably has to be the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

“Hasn’t been a cakewalk for me either, sweetheart,” I deadpanned. Chloe let out a little hiccupping giggle and I knew she was drunk enough that she was going to be hurting come morning.

I kept my arm firmly around Chloe’s waist as I guided her through the busy restaurant. Holding her body next to mine was the complete juxtaposition to how it felt when Carla clung to me on the way here. Carla was all sharp, narrow points, while Chloe was warm, lush curves that molded to me as we walked. I didn’t feel any bone when I placed my hand on her, just the smoothness of her waist dipping in before those intoxicating hips flared out. She had a woman’s body, through and through, and I wanted to kick myself for even noticing how good she felt against me.

“Where’s your car, sunshine?” I whispered in her ear. Was I closer than I needed to be in order to speak to her? Hell yeah. But I seemed to have lost all control over my body when it came to her, and the way she shivered against me as I spoke had my arm hugging her even closer to my side. My pants had grown uncomfortably tight as my erection strained against the fabric. For Christ’s sake, I felt like a goddamned teenager unable to control his boner around the pretty girl. It was pathetic.

“Uh,” she cleared her throat as she pulled against my arm. I could either refuse to let her put any space between us — like my body wanted to do — and risk some seriously fucked up mixed signals, or I could loosen my hold, allowing her the space she seemed to need from me. I went with the latter, even though every inch of me rebelled at the loss of her warmth. “I’m there,” she answered, pointing to a small, two-door Honda.

“Keys?” I asked quietly, closely, unable to help but close the distance whenever the chance arose.

With a small, shuffled step to the side, she dug in her purse until she unearthed her keys and handed them to a butt-hurt Carla. Turning her face toward mine as Carla climbed in and started the car up, those bright green eyes shone up at me, just a hint of glassiness thanks to the wine. “I should — I should probably ride with her.”

“You’re riding with me,” I insisted, my tone sounding a little too direct, even to my own ears.
Jesus
, what the hell was wrong with me? I couldn’t seem to think straight and all the blood in my body was rushing to one particular area. Since walking into The Peak and seeing Chloe dressed to the nines, something inside me, some protective instinct had scratched and clawed its way to the surface, only growing stronger and stronger as both Carla and Layla spit their hatefulness at her. I couldn’t stand to watch it.

“But—”

“I don’t want you alone with Carla.”

She stared, mouth open, eyes wide for a few seconds. “You think I can’t defend myself to
her
? Please,” she snorted. “I could take her.”

“I have no doubt about that, killer,” I chuckled. “But fact of the matter is, she’s been a bitch to you all night long.”

“Only because I crashed your date!”

“If I remember correctly, I was the one who insisted. You didn’t crash anything.”

Her face grew contemplative as she stared up at me. “Yeah. Yeah, you did kind of push in. What was up with that? Were you just itching to have the world’s most uncomfortable date or something?” She snorted again, and damn if I didn’t want to lean down and kiss her cute mouth.

I needed to get my shit together, and fast, or I was going to do something to screw up our friendship — and why the hell did just thinking that word suddenly leave me feeling bitter?

“What can I say? I’m a masochist like that.” I guided her to my truck and had to help her into the cab, I wasn’t sure how much more my poor, high strung body could take. I needed a cold shower and a couple minutes alone with my palm before my head exploded.

I walked around the hood of my truck and climbed in, twisted the key in the ignition and put it into drive, only to be hit with the realization I had no clue where Chloe lived. Suddenly, my dick wasn’t the problem anymore. No man alive could maintain an erection once he recognized what a shitty human being he was. I’d known Chloe for a year and a half, I claimed to be her friend, and all this time, I didn’t know anything about her. Hell, I didn’t have the first clue where she lived.

I coughed awkwardly, drawing her attention. “Are you, um… are you sober enough to give me directions to your place?”

The glimmer that was just in her green eyes moments ago got swallowed up by something else. Her usually open expression closed down as she spoke in a small, pained voice, “You don’t even know where I live?”

“No,” I admitted, my tone apologetic. “I mean… well, I just never really thought about it.”

“My apartment’s right above the bakery,” she said in a flat, emotionless voice as she turned to look out the window. I couldn’t have possibly felt any lower if I’d tried.

“Well that’s convenient, huh?” I asked way too enthusiastically.

She didn’t look at me. “Yep.”

“I didn’t even know there was an apartment over the bakery.”

“Mmhmm,” was all I got in return.

The whole drive back to Pembrooke was made in uncomfortable silence. I’d finally felt like I’d taken some big steps forward when it came to Chloe, and after tonight, I couldn’t help but think that I’d just put myself back at square one.