Crazy For Love. Victoria Dahl
“You remember that?”
“I remember him talking about the ATV, yes.”
“And when you two dropped me off at my place?”
“Yes?” Chloe asked shortly, belatedly remembering that one of Mrs. DeLorn’s pet peeves was one-word sentences. We’ve lost all the elegance of our language, she would complain. Which maybe had something to do with Thomas’s strange tendency to speak in full sentences during sex. Oh, yes, Chloe, I love how it feels when you do that.
She managed to choke back a laugh, but her amusement was made worse by Mrs. DeLorn’s irritated huff. “Well, I was only calling to remind you of the money I loaned Thomas.”
Chloe couldn’t hide the incredulous shock in her voice. “Mrs. DeLorn, I don’t know anything about that. Are you trying to imply that I share part of the debt? Unfortunately, I’m kind of high and dry right now. I put a lot of money into the wedding. I’m sure you remember?”
She’d never been rude to the woman before, but she couldn’t believe this was the conversation they were having after her son had turned Chloe’s life upside down. When Mrs. DeLorn had left those messages, Chloe had expected some sort of plea for forgiveness on behalf of Thomas. What the hell was this?
There was a long enough pause that Chloe was left wondering if Mrs. DeLorn had hung up, but then she finally made a little humming sound in her throat. “I’m so sorry about that, dear. You know, why don’t you let me take care of those bills?”
Chloe pulled the phone away from her face to look at it in shock. When she pressed it back to her ear, Mrs. DeLorn was still talking. “—Always been generous with both of you when you needed help. I won’t begrudge you a little cash any more than I’ve begrudged Thomas all the gifts I gave him.”
What in the world? She was tempted to just agree, but it felt a little like being bought off, so Chloe thanked her for the offer and told her she’d consider it once all the bills were sorted out. Thomas owed at least half of the deposits, after all, if not all of them.
Then she hung up the phone and stared at it for a little while longer.
“What was that all about?”
She spun to see Jenn standing in the doorway, legs still streaked with white. “I think Mrs. DeLorn is losing it.”
“That was Mrs. DeLorn?”
“Why do you look so freaked out? You don’t even know how weird she was being.”
Jenn’s shocked look quickly turned to nonchalance. “What did she say?”
“She was just talking about some money Thomas owed her. It was strange as all hell. So what’s Max doing?”
“Still digging.”
Chloe tossed her phone back on the table and went out to watch the show.
MAX SULLIVAN WAS HOT on land, but on a boat…on a boat he approached nuclear levels of hotness. Chloe watched him with the complete freedom offered by her dark sunglasses as he spoke with the diving guide. He looked perfect out here, hair tossed by the sea wind, sun glinting off the golden hairs on his strong arms. His mouth widened with a laugh as he slapped their guide, Jacob, on the arm and shook his head.
A few words drifted to her ears, but she couldn’t make sense of them. Names of dive sites or harbor towns, she assumed. The guide’s eyes took on a starry look of admiration as he shot questions at Max.
Ten minutes of excited conversation later, with a couple of miles of sea behind them, Chloe half expected the guide to turn and ask if they’d be willing to skip their lesson so he could dive with Max Sullivan. Instead, he shook Max’s hand and gestured generously toward the tanks lined up against the side of the boat.
Max knelt down and began picking up tanks and shifting them around as if they weighed nothing. Chloe knew they were heavy. Just as she’d suspected: utter hotness.
His strong hands cradled the tanks, turned knobs and ran over every piece of equipment. Chloe watched, heavy-eyed, relaxing into the fantasy of him so thoroughly checking her over. The boat rocked. Chloe sighed.
He hadn’t made a move last night, and she’d been surprised at that. At one point, she’d been sure he was about to kiss her and then…nothing. A couple of beers, some nice conversation and way too many marshmallows. On the one hand, he’d invited himself along on this trip. On the other, he looked far more interested in the diving equipment than in her. Not a good indication that they were headed toward a fling.
The guide shouted something that was snatched away by the wind. Max straightened and gave him a thumbs-up and a big grin as he shouted something back, but she caught the way his mouth twitched to a frown when he crouched down and tapped on one of the tank dials. Was something wrong?
Chloe glanced at the other two. Elliott wasn’t paying any attention. He was watching Jenn from the corner of his eye, and Jenn was too busy staring out at the waves and pretending not to see Elliott.
The frown remained on Max’s face. He peered closer and eased a knob open in a slow circle. What if there was something wrong? What if there was a tragic accident and things went bad down there? Chloe pictured her face splashed all over cable. On every magazine cover and Web site. She’d die in the prime of the scandal, and no one would ever remember her for anything else. She’d be Chloe the Bridezilla for eternity.
She jumped up and rushed across the boat.
“Hey!” she said breathlessly. “Is everything okay?”
When Max raised his face, he was wearing a blinding smile. “Sure, everything’s great!”
“Why were you frowning?”
“What?”
“You were frowning. At that tank.”
He stood and wiped his hands. “Just concentrating, I guess. The tanks look good.” He moved his hand toward a clipboard tucked into a pocket of the boat. “He keeps good records.” When he glanced down at the board, the frown flitted across his face again before he replaced it with a smile.
Chloe grabbed his wrist. “Listen. The lesson in the pool today was fun. And I wanted to have a tiny adventure out on the sea, but I don’t want to go this way, okay? I don’t want to be on the news and on the… Sorry, I don’t mean to freak out. It’s just…”
She took a deep breath and tried to channel Island Chloe. This was Max’s job. Something as easy as pie for him. It wouldn’t be cool to hyperventilate and pass out in a puddle of urine or something. “Chloe—”
“Whew,” she said with a laugh. “Sorry. Being surrounded by all this water makes me feel insignificant. And fragile. But you know what you’re doing, so just tell me that this guy is okay, all right? I’ll be fine.”
He wrapped his free hand around the fingers clutching his wrist in a death grip. “Diving is inherently risky. Things can go wrong. But I talked to the guide about the dive this morning while you were finishing your lesson. We decided to do an easy dive—only thirty-five feet down. The wreck is wide open on the sea floor, so there aren’t any spaces to get caught in. And I wouldn’t let you near that water if the equipment wasn’t safe. Okay?”
“Okay.” Her fingers didn’t loosen, despite the warmth of his hand on top of hers.
“I don’t recommend finding a dive guide at the grocery store, but you lucked out.”
“Okay,” she said again. Her hand didn’t relax, but she purposefully flexed her fingers. No panic attack. Not this time. She’d only had one actually, but the idea of having another was enough on its own to spiral her close to an attack. Evil, vicious circle.
Max’s hand let go of hers and rose up to cup her chin. Warmth edged over her jaw and calmed her down. “Hey, we’ll stick together, okay? I could do this in my sleep. But—” he said hastily as Chloe opened