more coffee?”
“I can get it myself.”
“I’m sure you can.”
“And I suppose you’d like me to pour you some more coffee while I’m at it?”
“If you do, I’ll share these with you….” He held up a bag from a local bakery.
“Where did those come from?”
He read the side of the bag. “The Busy Bee Bakery.”
“I meant how did they get here?”
“I brought them.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“You’re telling me you went to the bakery in the fifteen minutes I took to get dressed?”
“No.”
She tried not to grit her teeth in frustration. “Are you always this exasperating?”
“No, I can be much worse.”
“That’s great to hear.”
He held up the bag and waggled it. “So, do you want some or not?”
“What’s in the bag?”
If he’d said a chocolate éclair, she could have resisted the temptation. But when he said, “Brownies,” she knew she was a goner.
“Are you interested?” he said.
“An even trade. A refill on your coffee for a brownie.”
“Works for me.”
She loosened her grip on the chair and busied herself getting plates out of the kitchen cupboard before taking the coffeepot over to the table to refill his mug. “I still don’t know how you got these here.” She pointed to the bag of brownies.
“I carried them.”
“When? And don’t tell me this morning unless you’re ready to suffer the consequences.”
“I had them in my hand when I first arrived, but when you reached for me…”
“I was reaching for the paper!” she corrected him.
“I dropped them on your front porch.” He peered inside the bag. “Luckily they didn’t suffer from that little mishap.”
“And you retrieved them from my porch while I was getting dressed?”
“That’s right. Are you always this intent on solving mysteries?”
“I like things to be in order.”
“Marines like order, too. See, that’s something else we have in common.”
Chloe wasn’t so easily convinced. “Before you distracted me with decadent baked goods, you were going to tell me about this romantic bad luck you had.”
Steve wasn’t sure what to say, which wasn’t unusual for him. Confiding had never been his thing. And telling her about Gina meant telling her about his inheritance.
Who was he kidding here? His grandmother had probably already told Chloe about the money.
Was that why Chloe had acted the way she had? Was this all an elaborate hoax to get his attention by pretending to avoid it?
He couldn’t help being suspicious, given his recent track record where females were concerned.
Then his logical side reminded him that he had no intention of falling for Chloe. There was no danger of that. Sure he was a bit intrigued by her, but he was only here in Chicago for a short period of time during his leave.
Not telling her would mean he was afraid to. So he bit the bullet and started talking. Reluctantly. In his own way and in his own time. “Well, you’ve probably heard the sad story before—poor guy inherits money and a beautiful woman cons him into thinking she’s in love with him when all she really wants is access to his bank account.”
“Were you in love with her?”
Love. That four-letter word that had ended up sucker punching him without warning. “I thought I was.”
“How do you know she was only interested in your money?”
“I don’t tell many people about it. I’m assuming my grandmother told you, right?”
Chloe nodded before hurriedly assuring him, “Believe me, I’m not interested in your bank account.”
“You’d hardly tell me you were, now would you?”
“True.” She shifted uncomfortably before quickly returning the spotlight on him. “But getting back to your story.”
He could tell she didn’t like talking about herself. Something else they had in common.
“This girl—” Chloe was saying when Steve interrupted her.
“Her name was Gina. She was smart and classy. Gorgeous. A real knockout. And I discovered the truth when I found her with a good buddy of mine. I overheard them talking. He’d told her about the money. I’d told him, never thinking…” His jaw tightened. What an idiot he’d been. “Anyway, they both duped me.”
“What did you do?”
“Walked in and told them the game was over. Gina tearfully tried to tell me that I’d misunderstood.”
“Had you?”
Steve shook his head. “I saw the guilt in my buddy’s face.”
“So it was actually a double whammy. You were betrayed by both a gold-digging woman and by your buddy.”
“At least he wasn’t a Marine,” Steve said. “He was a civilian.”
“Oh, that explains it then,” Chloe noted dryly. “Civilians aren’t to be trusted.”
“Hey, I spill my guts to you and you respond by mocking me?”
“You were reciting facts of what occurred. That’s not the same as spilling guts.”
“Like I’m ever gonna get all sappy about stuff,” he scoffed.
“That would never happen, right?”
“I’m a Marine.” His voice was brisk and powerful. “We don’t do sappy.”
“Right. You do tough and in control.”
“Affirmative.”
“Except where it comes to your grandmother?”
“Affirmative.
