Indiscretion: Volume Three (Indiscretion #3) (7 page)

BOOK: Indiscretion: Volume Three (Indiscretion #3)
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We got lucky and didn’t have to wait long for a table. I decided to take Chloe’s advice and order the ravioli—believing her claim that it couldn’t be beat. Once we were settled at an intimate table for two beside one of the windows, Chloe unknowingly asked one of the only questions that could make me uncomfortable around her.

“Tell me something random about yourself. Something no one else knows. A deep dark secret.” She smiled and took a sip from the straw in her drink.

My heart sputtered momentarily, and then restarted at a faster pace. It was an innocent enough question, to her. After all, I had asked almost the very same question earlier in the car. It was clear from her tone that she was joking around, but her question forced the memories I had tried to keep hidden in the murky depths of my mind to float up to the surface.

I tried to blink away the shame and guilt as I cleared my throat and nonchalantly wiped my clammy hands on my shorts. “Sorry. No dark secrets hanging around my past.” There. That sounded convincing, didn’t it?

“Come on,” she pressed. “There has to be something no one else knows about you.” She tilted her head, and a cute expectant smile spread across her face.

Fuck.

If she only knew what I had done. I pushed the memories to the back of my mind, not willing to go there. Not with her here.

I searched my mind for some piece of mundane information that I could satisfy her curiosity with, shifting in my seat several times until I thought of something. “Alright, I thought of something. But if you tell anyone…” I narrowed my eyes in jest.

Her own glinted with mischief. “I swear. I won’t tell a soul.” She leaned forward, eagerly awaiting my confession.

“Okay. I secretly loved The Notebook,” I deadpanned.

“Really?” She laughed. “Movie or the book?”

I gave her my best are-you-serious face? “I’m not completely giving up my man card, Chloe. The movie. I wouldn’t read the book.”

Her hands found mine across the table. “That is so sweet. It’s one of my favorite movies. Why did you like it so much?” The tone of her voice sounded like she was talking to a cute puppy or an infant or something.

Fuck me. What had I started here?

I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was just a good story, I guess. Two people that didn’t let anything come between them being together in the end…time, distance, different upbringings. They were destined for each other. When they were given their second chance, they made the most of it.”

Chloe held my gaze intently and squeezed the hand she was still holding over the table. I shifted my hand so I could run my thumb over her knuckles. The skin there was so soft, like silk.

Something changed between us in that moment. Neither of us uttered a word, but as we looked deep into one another’s eyes, it was like the tectonic plates below us were shifting, shaking everything up and, when it finally ceased, we knew nothing would be quite like it had been before.

The sound of someone clearing their throat beside our table drew my attention, and I glanced over. It seemed our dinner had arrived.

“Your meals. Be careful because the plates are hot,” the waiter said, setting both our meals in front of us on the table.

“Thank you,” I said.

We each set our napkins on our laps and fidgeted with our cutlery in preparation to eat, both of us trying to avoid the awkwardness that had settled over us after my little speech on the merits of The Notebook, and the intimacy that followed. What the hell was with me lately?

Chloe dug into her ravioli with gusto and moaned around her fork when the pasta hit her mouth. The sound had my cock twitching.

“Good?” I asked.

She finished chewing and motioned with her fork in the direction of my plate. “See for yourself.”

I cut a ravioli in half and speared it with my fork. Chewing on the tender pasta, I saw exactly why she’d had the reaction she did. It was phenomenal. The flavor of fresh tomato and basil exploded in my mouth and mixed with the cheese and pasta in perfect proportion.

“My God. This is excellent.”

“Told you,” she said with a smug grin, winking at me.

The rest of the meal was uneventful, with no more talk of dark secrets from the past or chick flicks. We were both content to savor our meals quietly with little conversation. Normally it would prove awkward if I was out with a woman and we weren’t filling those inevitable moments of silence. That wasn’t the case with Chloe. The silence was comfortable, comforting almost.

After I took care of the bill, which Chloe tried to persuade me to go dutch on (I still have no understanding of why women try to do this from time-to-time), we decided to take a walk through the different downtown neighborhoods so I could get a better feel for the city.

Holding hands, we strolled amiably through the Old Port District, down to the waterfront, and back up to the Arts District. I was fascinated by the fact that
all
the stores we passed were mom and pop establishments. Chloe explained that the town worked hard to keep large corporations and franchises out of the downtown core. I was a city boy at heart, having been born and raised in New York City, but Portland was quickly growing on me with its big city vibe and small town sensibilities.

Eventually, we ended up wandering over to Monument Square. A bunch of teenagers with died black hair, tattoos, and piercings in places I didn’t even want to think about had gathered in the center and were performing tricks. Some were dancing with fire, while the others beat out a tribal rhythm on what looked like African drums.

Intrigued, we stopped to take in the show. The girl in the center was holding a chain in each hand, and the bottom of each was a burning ball of fire. She began swinging them around in circles, one on each side of her body, in time with the drums. When she’d reached enough speed, she crossed them in front of her, one in front of the other, and then behind her. The trail the fiery ball took left a trace of light in the darkness, like a sparkler on the fourth of July. After a minute or so, she made her way down to her knees, the glowing globes missing the concrete by an eighth of an inch. It was almost impossible to take my eyes off her, the steady beat of the drum and the warm summer evening working together to put us both in a trance-like state.

I stood with Chloe in front of me, leaning back into my chest, my arms draped around her waist, my chin settled on the top of her head, and I inhaled the floral scent of her shampoo, lowering my chin to kiss the top of her head. This was the first moment in so long that I recalled feeling such peace and contentment. I had no idea what it all meant, but I liked it. And I didn’t want to lose it, but the days of summer were whizzing by. Emptiness began spilling into my chest but I pushed it back, determined to enjoy the time I did have with Chloe to the fullest.

We watched as the next performer took to the center of the circle of onlookers with a hula hoop-looking device that had been set on fire in six or seven different spots. She undulated her hips to build momentum. When she had it going fast enough, she brought it up to her neck, craning it to make enough room, then circled the fiery instrument around and around.

Without warning, Chloe sucked in a breath and stiffened underneath my embrace.

“What’s wro—“

Before I could get the words out, she’d sprung from my arms and was hastily making her way through the crowd. I pushed my way through the people, grabbing hold of her upper arm when I reached her.

“Where are you going?” I asked, concerned.

She spun to face me; her eyes were wide with fear, her color ashen. “We have to get out of here.” She pulled her arm from my grip and walked in the opposite direction as fast as her legs would take her.

Stunned, I stood there for a second just gaping after her. What the ever-loving fuck? When I had my wits about me again, I jogged until I had caught up with her and matched her pace for pace.

“Where’s the fire?” I had a momentary thought of how stupid that was to say, given the fact that there actually
had
been fire back where we were, but she didn’t seem to notice.

Chloe took a quick look over her shoulder, and then answered with a shaky voice, “Back there in the square. Mrs. Gilbert was there.”

“Who is Mrs. Gilbert?”

“From the fundraising committee,” she said, losing patience.

“Where was she?” I hadn’t seen anyone. Granted, I’d been in my own world, content with the feel of Chloe in my arms and not worrying about much else.

“Across the square.” She bent her head and covered her face with her hands. “Oh God, do you think she saw us?”

“There were a lot of people back there. I’m sure she didn’t see us.” I was praying that what I said was true.

Chloe continued walking briskly, chewing on the tip of her index finger. “I hope you’re right. Otherwise…”

I couldn’t let her go there. I wouldn’t let our short time together here get ruined by unfounded paranoia. “Let’s not jump to conclusions.” I draped an arm across her shoulders, but she pushed it off her and took another glance behind us.

Ouch.
That hurt.

Brushing it off, I shoved my hands into my pockets and walked along side her. I understood why she’d been so shaken. I did. Buying into the brokerage represented stability to Chloe, something she’d never had much of. With that in mind, I pushed away the hurt that I’d felt momentarily. I could deal with this. The last thing I wanted was her feeling the need to push me away again. Maybe we’d almost been caught, but we’d slipped away. It was alright.

We walked back to our hotel through the warm summer night without speaking, each of us deep in our own heads. When we reached the hotel, I asked Chloe if she wanted to get a drink before heading up to the room.

She shook her head. “I think we’re better off going straight up to the room. What if Mrs. Gilbert is staying here?”

I thought that doubtful, but I wasn’t going to argue with her about it. She was rattled, and I wasn’t going to push my luck. I didn’t want to lose this bubble we’d found ourselves in, this fragile freedom—I wanted it to continue. Even if it was in the confines of our hotel suite.

We arrived back in the room and, as soon as the door closed, I started in, “Before you say anything, Chloe, it was just a fluke. The odds of us running into someone again when we’re out of town are one in a million, and we’re careful when we’re at home.”

“I know.” She still sounded unsure to me.

I stepped forward and took her hands in mine. “I’m not letting you push me away again.” I steadied my gaze on her, forcing her to believe what I was telling her.

She looked like she wanted to believe me, but she began breathing deeply, her chest heaving up and down. “I don’t want to, I just...”

I pulled her into my embrace and nuzzled into her neck before she could give voice to all the fears that plagued her. We’d dodged a bullet for sure, but there was no point focusing on what we couldn’t change. When she wrapped her arms around me and held me tightly, I released a relieved breath I hadn’t known I was holding. In the face of having our secret discovered, she was pulling me closer rather than pushing me away.

We were leaving late in the day tomorrow and I wasn’t about to complain about spending time in a hotel room with Chloe—we’d certainly find something fun to do. Naked, of course. There was a small part of me, though, that was disappointed I wouldn’t get to be out, discovering Portland with her tomorrow. Today, I had enjoyed doing the regular couple things together, rather than hiding out with her. But I knew if I wanted to continue to see her, this was the way it needed to be. So I kept my mouth shut.

Chloe

As we got closer and closer to Bar Harbor, I felt more and more like an idiot for my overreaction yesterday when I’d spotted Mrs. Gilbert. I’d been so shocked. After having fallen into a rhythm with Max, acting like a regular couple and not having to worry about being seen by anyone, spotting her across the square had been an unwelcome return to the real world.

Max’s hand came across the console and rested above my knee, and he squeezed. “What are you thinking about? You’re quiet.”

“I’m thinking about what an idiot I feel like for how I acted last night.” Embarrassed, I moved my gaze to the scenery zooming by outside the window.

“Don’t. You weren’t an idiot. You were surprised, that’s all. Hell, so was I when you told me.”

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