Chapters (71)
- Epigraph
- 1. Barrett
- Barrett
- 2. Chloe
- Chloe
- 3. Barrett
- Barrett
- 4. Chloe
- Chloe
- 5. Chloe
- Chloe
- 6. Barrett
- Barrett
- 7. Chloe
- Chloe
- 8. Chloe
- Chloe
- 9. Barrett
- Barrett
- 10. Chloe
- Chloe
- 11. Barrett
- Barrett
- 12. Chloe
- Chloe
- 13. Barrett
- Barrett
- 14. Chloe
- Chloe
- 15. Barrett
- Barrett
- 16. Chloe
- Chloe
- 17. Barrett
- Barrett
- 18. Chloe
- Chloe
- 19. Barrett
- Barrett
- 20. Chloe
- Chloe
- 21. Barrett
- Barrett
- 22. Chloe
- Chloe
- 23. Barrett
- Barrett
- 24. Chloe
- Chloe
- 25. Barrett
- Barrett
- 26. Chloe
- Chloe
- 27. Barrett
- Barrett
- 28. Chloe
- Chloe
- 29. Barrett
- Barrett
- 30. Chloe
- Chloe
- 31. Barrett
- Barrett
- 32. Chloe
- Chloe
- Epilogue
- FOUR MONTHS LATER
- Sneak Peek
- Thank You
- Also by Erin Hawkins
- About the Author
I nod. It’s the only thing I can manage with Chloe’s body tucked into my side. One hand pressed into my stomach while the other has snaked under my suit jacket behind my back.
With a hand on my shoulder and one on Chloe’s, Frankie air kisses us both before Fred ushers her into their car.
Once they’re down the street, Chloe pulls away from my side.
“I think that went well,” she says.
The frustration I’ve been feeling all night with the lack of opportunity to talk with Fred comes to a head. Not to mention the fact that Chloe was an unwelcome distraction. While that may not be her fault, it’s maddening as hell.
“Are you kidding? That was a disaster. I made no head way with Fred because you and Frankie talked the entire time.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was unaware I was supposed to help you in your business dealings.” Chloe’s arms spread wide and I’m momentarily distracted by her cleavage. “That makes perfect sense because I was unaware about anything for this ‘date.’ Next time you blackmail someone into being your date, maybe fill them in on the details. It would be helpful.”
Having summoned him earlier, Marcus pulls up at the curb.
“Forget it.” I yank the car door open. “I’ll take you home.”
She wraps her bare arms around her mid-section. “No thanks. I’ll order a ride share.”
“I can take you home,” I repeat.
“It’s fine.” She doesn’t bother to look at me while she types on her phone.
I blow out an exasperated breath. This woman frustrates the hell out of me, while also managing to make my dick as hard as stone. It’s a paradox I want nothing to do with, but I can’t let her shiver on the sidewalk. I remove my jacket and drape it over her shoulders.
“I’m fine. Really. I don’t need your jacket.”
She tries to shake it off, but I move out of her reach.
“Goodnight, Chloe,” I say as I climb into my car.
“All set, Mr. St. Clair?” Marcus asks.
“Please wait until Ms. Anderson’s car arrives,” I run my hand through my hair in frustration, “then we can go.”
“Yes, sir.”
As we idle there on the curb, I reflect on the evening again.