Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(68)

Joy squeezed my heart. “I love hearing that.”

“I realized today when I was out on the water that none of it would matter if I didn’t have you by my side. I wouldn’t even want that stupid farm.”

I had to laugh. “You’re not supposed to lie to me, remember?”

“I’m serious.” He tucked my hair behind my ear and tipped up my chin. “I love you, Chloe. It’s okay if you don’t believe me, or if you don’t love me back. I’m still going to love you.”

I tilted my cheek against his palm. “You know I love you. I’ve always loved you—well, mostly. When you weren’t pranking me or calling me chicken or betting I wasn’t brave enough to jump off a roof.”

“I take it all back.” He pressed his lips to mine. “You’re the bravest person I know. And I’m sorry you broke your leg.”

“I’m sorry you broke your collarbone. But you were kind of an idiot to jump after you saw how badly I’d landed.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you best me,” he said, looking and sounding like his eleven-year-old self again. “I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself. And besides.” He grabbed me and pulled me across his lap, tipping his forehead to mine. “You jump, I jump. Always.”

I smiled. “Always.”





25





Oliver





NOW



We walked out of the library and into the dining room hand in hand. Everyone was seated at the table already, and they must have been talking about us, because conversation came to a halt the moment we appeared.

“Everything okay?” my mother asked nervously, setting down her fork. The food on her plate—on everyone’s plates—was untouched.

“Everything is okay,” I said.

She looked at Chloe for confirmation.

“Everything is okay,” Chloe echoed.

“Oh, thank goodness.” My mother leaned back in her seat, hand on her chest.

I elbowed Chloe. “She never could resist me.”

My mother rolled her eyes. “Good grief, Oliver. Behave yourself. You’re barely out of hot water with Chloe as it is.”

“I’m used to him by now,” Chloe said. “Sorry to hold up dinner.”

“Don’t worry about it,” my dad said. “Glad you kids have worked things out. And tomorrow, son, we’re going to have a talk about work ethic and strength of character. You’ve got some explaining to do.”

“Uh, sure thing, Dad.” I pulled out Chloe’s chair for her and took my seat, trying to think of a way to avoid my father’s insufferable work ethic lecture. I’d heard it at least a million times growing up. Clearly I’d have to do better with my own kids. Or come up with one that was even more torturous.

The thought actually made me smile. I could see myself being that dad one day.

And I saw Chloe by my side. It was the first time being a husband and father hadn’t seemed like something I had to do because it was expected—it was something I wanted to do.

“So what will you do about the land you planned to buy for the rye?” my brother asked. Of course.

I tried not to let it bother me as I spread my napkin on my lap. “I’ll apply for a loan, I guess. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

“Just a minute.”

Everyone looked at Gran.

She rose to her feet at one end of the table. “It seems there’s still a business opportunity to be had here. And as I’m ninety, I feel like my time to invest in talented entrepreneurs might be running out.”

I shook my head. “Thanks, Gran, but I’ve decided I want to do this on my own.”

“I’m not talking about you. I’m talking about Chloe.”

My jaw dropped. Everyone’s jaw dropped.

“What do you mean?” Charlotte asked.

“I mean, I’m going to invest a million dollars in Chloe. What she chooses to do with it, and whom she chooses to share it with, is her business. But she impresses me. She’s got heart and smarts and moxie, and it doesn’t get better than that.”

We all looked at Chloe. Her face was white as a sheet. I glanced back at Gran, and she winked at me.

I smiled back, appreciating what she was doing for me.

“What do you say, Chloe?” Gran asked. “Will you accept my offer to invest in your future?”

Chloe met my eyes and I shrugged. “Your decision. No pressure here.”

“This is insane!” she cried, laughing and wiping tears from her eyes. “A million dollars?”

“A million dollars.” Gran’s eyes glittered. “And maybe a bottle of that fancy whiskey you’re going to make.”

“Deal,” Chloe said, putting her hand on her chest. “Oh my God, my heart is racing so fast. I can’t believe this! Thank you!”

“You’re welcome. I have the utmost faith in you.” She looked at me and smiled. “In both of you.”

“Thank you, Gran,” I said, my throat tight. “That means a lot to us.”

“Chloe is going to be a busy woman,” said her father.

We all looked at Uncle John.