Undeniable (Cloverleigh Farms #2)(69)

“I am?” asked Chloe.

“Yes.” He put his arm around his wife and looked at his daughter. “Your mother has finally convinced me to retire this fall, and the only person I trust to run Cloverleigh is you. You’ve been there longer than anyone and know the place inside and out. You work hard, you work smart. You’ve got the education, the experience, the work ethic, the gut instincts, and the passion it takes.”

“But what about April?” Chloe asked.

Her mother smiled. “April is happy doing what she does. She’s one hundred percent on board with you taking over as COO. Everyone is—Sylvia, April, Meg, Frannie, Mack, Henry … if you want the job, it’s yours.”

I found myself getting choked up and grabbed Chloe’s hand.

“This is all so surreal,” she said, blinking back tears. “I feel like everything is happening at once.”

“Do you need some time to think things through?” her mom asked.

“No!” Chloe burst out. “When have I ever taken time to think things through? I want the job—give it to me!”

Everyone laughed and I kissed her cheek. “Congratulations. We will make this work, I promise. You’ll be busy, but you can do it.”

“Thank you,” she said breathlessly, squeezing my hand.

“Well, hear, hear!” my father said, raising his glass. “A toast to new beginnings!”

My mother quickly poured wine for Chloe and me. “A toast to a wonderful past.”

“To love and family,” said Aunt Daphne with shining eyes.

“To friends who are family,” said Uncle John.

Chloe lifted her glass. “To second chances.”

I leaned toward her. “I might need more than that.”

“I might give them,” she teased.

We locked eyes as we drank to our past, our present, and our future.





Later that night, we undressed and climbed into bed. I wrapped my arms around her beneath the covers. “I can’t believe I almost lost you again.”

“Me neither.” She snuggled up tight, her head on my chest. “That was a close call.”

“I’m going to try really hard to be the man you deserve, Chloe. I mean that.”

“All I want is you.” She kissed my bare chest. “And you don’t have to be perfect. Just honest.”

“I will be. For example, I’m honestly thinking that I’d really like to have sex with you right now.”

Giggling, she shook her head. “No way. Your parents, my parents, your grandmother, your nephews—they’re all right down the hall. And this old bed squeaks.”

“So let’s do it on the floor.”

“The floors in this house creak more than the beds!”

I sighed. “You’re really going to make me wait until we get home to be inside you again?”

“Sorry. Yes.” She was silent for a moment. “So where will home be?”

“Where do you want it to be?”

She picked up her head and looked at me. “Honestly?”

I flicked her earlobe. “Duh.”

“Right at Cloverleigh.”

“Then it will be home to me too.”

Her smile lit up the dark. “You mean it?”

“Sure. I’ll get a condo in Traverse, or buy a little house in Hadley Harbor. I’ve never lived small town life. Maybe it will suit me.”

“I hope so.” She brushed her fingertips across my collarbone. “Or you could stay with me at Cloverleigh if you want. Even if it’s just temporary.”

“Chloe, if I move in with you, I’m never going to want to leave.”

“Really?”

“Really. I mean, you’ll be there all the time cooking for me, doing my laundry, ironing my shirts—”

She smacked me on the chest. “Very funny.”

“I’m teasing.” Grabbing her arms, I flipped her onto her back. Kissed her lips. “I’m never going to want to leave because I love you. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There’s nothing I don’t want to share, and I can’t believe I wasted so much time.” I kissed her again. “I don’t want to waste any more.”

Slipping her arms free, she looped them around my neck and wrapped her legs around me. “You’re making me want to risk the squeaky bed,” she whispered.

“We could.” I moved my mouth across her cheek to her ear. “Or we could go into my closet, where I first kissed you.”

She went completely still. “You remember.”

“Of course I remember. Who forgets their first kiss?”

“It wasn’t really a kiss.”

I pulled back and looked down at her. “Um, our lips touched. Also our tongues.”

“And we decided it was so disgusting, we’d never kiss anyone else again.”

“We were pretty young.” I pictured her at that age—pigtailed and gap-toothed. Dimpled cheeks.

“We had to be, what, six?” she wondered.

“If that.”

She laughed. “I never told a soul about it.”

“Me neither. I think I tried to block it entirely from my memory. I was so grossed out.”