Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(55)

My gut was churning, and I ran a hand through my hair. I’d prepared a speech for this, but I couldn’t remember a single word of it. Dammit, why’d I drink that scotch on the patio?

“Hey.” Chloe came over to me and slipped her arms around my waist. “Talk to me.”

I looked down at her concerned expression, at the place where I knew her dimples would appear if she were smiling. And I couldn’t bear to think I’d never see them again. This plan had seemed so brilliant before I’d fallen for her.

“It’s nothing,” I said, hating myself. “I’m just tired after the long drive, and my family can be a bit much.”

“Can’t everyone’s?” She gave me a quick kiss on the chin and went back to rummaging through her bag. “What are you wearing to dinner? Should I wear my dress?”

“Casual is fine.”

“I should probably wear the dress,” she said with a sigh. “Your mom and grandmother’s idea of casual isn’t really the same as mine. Do you mind seeing me in it again?”

“Not at all.” I watched as she removed her shorts and shirt and bra, slipping the white dress over her head. My blood warmed a little at the sight of her breasts, but I couldn’t bring myself to go over and touch her. I didn’t deserve it.

“I hope this isn’t too wrinkled. Shouldn’t you change?” she asked me, tying the drawstring at her waist. “We only have a few more minutes.”

Fuck!

“I have to tell you something,” I blurted.

“Okay.” She pulled her sandals from her bag, dropped them to the floor, and dug around in her bag some more. “Where’s my hairbrush? Did I stick it in here? I hope I didn’t leave it at the hotel.”

“It has to do with my inheritance,” I went on, feeling a sweat break out on my back. I could’ve sworn I heard the tick of a clock somewhere in the room.

“Oh, there it is.” She pulled a brush from her bag and came over to use the mirror above the dresser, standing next to me. “What about your inheritance?”

I swallowed hard. My throat was dry as the fucking desert. “Uh, as you know, I was granted partial access to my trust fund after I finished graduate school, when I was twenty-five. Right before I ran into you in Chicago.”

“Right. I remember.” She pulled the brush through her long, dark hair in rhythmic strokes.

“And the thing is … I sort of … um, blew it.”

She paused with the brush in the air. In the mirror, she met my eyes and blinked. “You blew it? All of it?”

“Pretty much.”

“On what?”

The knots in my stomach tightened. “Uh, partying. Playing. Being irresponsible.”

“Jesus Christ, Oliver. That had to be a lot of money.”

“It was.”

“What possessed you?”

“I was running away. From family, from responsibility.” I swallowed again. “From you.”

She didn’t say anything.

“I knew I was making a huge mistake, but I didn’t want to face it. I just thought, fuck it, if I’m going to mess up my life, I might as well have a good time doing it. I was looking to numb the guilt I felt. It was idiotic and immature, and I’ll always regret it.”

“So how did you start Brown Eyed Girl?” she asked, turning around and leaning back against the dresser.

“When I finally came to my senses, I returned home and scraped up just enough to get going. The distillery does well, and I think with the expansion it will do even better, but it’s going to take some serious cash to implement the plans we’ve been discussing.”

“The land.” Chloe came off the dresser, her eyes going wide as she started to panic. “Oh my God, Oliver—if you don’t have the money, how are we going to buy the land on South Manitou? How are we supposed to build a facility at Cloverleigh?”

“Don’t worry. I have a plan.”

It might have sounded more convincing if my voice hadn’t cracked on the word plan.

“A plan? Oliver, everything hinges on your capital. I don’t have anything to invest, and Cloverleigh doesn’t have any liquid assets.”

I tried to stand taller and speak more confidently. “It’s going to be okay, Chloe.”

“But we promised the Feldmanns cash up front! Those were our exact words to them. If we have to go through a bank and get a loan, they’ll take that other guy’s offer, and there goes our land. There goes our story. There goes our hope.” She bit her lip. “I wish you would have told me this before.”

I took her by the shoulders, forcing her to face me. “Do you still want to do this with me?”

She looked torn. “Well—yes. I mean, I’m not happy you didn’t tell me about the money, but …”

Relief rushed through me. Maybe there was still hope. Maybe she’d even think I was a genius for thinking up this idea. “But if I can come up with a way to get it, you’re still in?”

She thought for a second, and then she nodded. “Yes, I’m still in. You were an idiot, and you should have told me, but we all make mistakes.”

“Thank God.” I hugged her tightly. “Leave everything to me. It’s going to be fine.”