he finished, a sense of well-being catalyzed Chloe. Vigor renewed, she pulled out her planning board.
Chance handed her dry-erase markers as she plotted her plans and needs. Despite his upbeat attitude, the more she wrote the more she became overwhelmed. Discouragement took stabs at her. She girded her courage and pressed on.
Untold minutes ticked by. “I’m getting tired. Maybe I need a break.” That whole quitting thing suddenly seemed appealing. But Chance’s enthusiasm over her program catapulted her on. As Chloe researched, more urgent needs and time-consuming tasks emerged.
“My to-do list is about a mile long,” Chloe groaned.
An owl hooted outside. Chance rose and stretched. Then he eyed his watch. “It’s nearly midnight, and I’ve got an early class in the morning with new recruits. If I didn’t have to get up before the birds, I’d stay longer. I need to chat with Brock a minute if he’s still up and grab a few things from his place before I go.” He offered her an apologetic glance, which is when she remembered she had his jacket still draped over her shoulders.
She went to remove it, but he shook his head. “I like the way it looks on you better.”
She brushed fingers along the dark denim, enjoying the rugged-but-soft texture. “Are you saying I can keep it?”
He smiled a slightly sad grin as a flash of nostalgia drifted like a sideways sunset across his handsome face.
“For a while, but not forever. It was the last gift Mom gave me before she died, or I’d let you have it.”
Her hand fell to his arm. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks. I know you’ve been there.”
She nodded. Swallowed back lumps. How had she come to care for this man already? Frightening. Not having words for once in her life, she nodded and her bangs slipped from behind her ear.
His vision drifted there and for a moment he seemed mesmerized. His hand moved as though to brush them back off her forehead, but his fingers curled into his hand.
She couldn’t deny the disappointment flooding her.
But it was for the best that they didn’t act on this emotional attraction. If they did, it would be a detriment to her dreams. She moved so her chair sat safely between them, creating a physical barrier like the one she was trying to keep in place in her heart.
“I’ll see you and Ivan tomorrow afternoon,” she said in her best professional tone. It must have fallen short because he dipped his head and grinned. The way his dimples seemed to wink at her, maddening! Flustered with herself, Chloe grabbed her papers and went into an organizing frenzy.
His grin only widened as he knelt to pet Midnight, then ventured slowly toward her door. He paused halfway and peered back at her. His eyes said he didn’t want to go. Her heart answered that cry with a squeeze and made her glad he took his time getting to the door. “See you tomorrow.”
“Looking forward to it.” Chance’s stuttering had waned the more time he’d spent in her presence. “Let’s do this again sometime. Often as we can.”
His kindness gave her something to look forward to. “I’d like that.” She reached to shake his hand. “As friends.”
He ignored her hand and stared deeply into her eyes. “I like being with you, Chloe.”
Don’t say it back. Don’t.
Hand snaking back to her side, she bit her lip against the sentiment trying to burst from her throat. If she admitted out loud that she liked being with him too, she might be tempted to let this fly like a fighter jet beyond the runway of friendship.
And she just couldn’t. Not with her dreams just within reach.
She felt adrift when he turned away and walked into Brock’s unit. The air around her grew empty and filled with loneliness.
She crossed her arms over herself and rested her hands along his jacket’s sleeves. Then she tilted her head down and breathed in his manly scent evident in the traces of woodsy cologne. Powerful, like the draw that had pulled his eyes to hers while he took reluctant steps away. Though he couldn’t possibly see in the window, she noticed that he cast glances over his shoulder, like he hadn’t wanted to end their time together.
She could relate.
After one last, lingering glance her way, he closed Brock’s door behind him.
Chloe remained on alert after Chance left, waiting to hear him emerge from Brock’s unit. What seemed like hours later, footsteps sounded on the boardwalk. Was she imagining that they paused outside her door?
Chloe took a step, nearly stumbled over Midnight, sleeping in his bed beneath the window, and watched Chance walk to his car. He must still be in the process of moving. He had armfuls of clothes and teetering stacks of books. Titles she recognized as global bestsellers, as well as famous classics.
He was an avid reader? This big, bad Special Ops soldier? There were so many layers to this man. “Special is right.” She sighed and closed her blinds so she didn’t feel like a stalker spying on him as he loaded the Jeep.
Since Chance seemed to do a lot with Brock, that meant she’d no doubt see Chance more than anticipated. She’d also see him while working with Ivan, but that was a professional environment. Here at Evie’s B&B she could be more casual, friendlier.
Chance had said his dad wasn’t typically this difficult, but that using Midnight might not work. In such cases, Chloe didn’t push the issue of animals in her therapy.
But Chloe felt in her gut that Midnight could help Ivan far faster and better than if she only used traditional therapy.
Ivan was already in jeopardy of it being too late, too long after the stroke to do much good as far as regaining dexterity and mobility.
Chloe yawned and rubbed her temples. It had been a long day, filled with a roller coaster of emotions. Chance’s unexpected friendship and her attraction to him. Fiona’s medical emergency. The complications with planning her program in Refuge. She headed toward her bedroom, knowing she needed to get some sleep so she could tackle whatever challenges the morning would bring.
The next evening, after a long grueling day of errands related to building her Refuge program, Chloe sat down with Ivan’s chart. His therapy had brightened her day, even though Ivan had been a real pill through it and refused most of her new exercises.
Complicating matters, she’d been disappointed not to see Chance. Ivan said he’d taken a new recruit to lunch because the recruit had asked about Chance’s church. That Chance had chosen to go to lunch rather than see her during Ivan’s session needled her, even though she knew her reaction was ridiculous.
Her fax machine bleeped and she approached it. Good. Ivan’s physician faxed her more of his history.
She kicked off her shoes, grabbed a pear and sat at the small kitchen table Evie had furnished.
Midnight lay down on top of her feet.
“Hmm. Ivan likes to work with clay. He has an Internet business and sells custom-made
