“Do you make an outline?” I open the car door for her and go around.

“Not really,” she tells me as she pulls the seatbelt over her body. “My editor likes to review it, so I give her a super rough one. It’s a waste of time for me to make anything more than a rough outline. I change things too much.”

“That’s interesting. You probably get asked this all the time and you’re wanting me to shut up, right?” I back out of the driveway.

“I don’t mind,” she assures me.

“Good, because you’re going to be bombarded with questions as soon as you walk through the door.”

“I can talk about writing and horses all day. Be warned: I can get pretty talkative.”

I steal a glance at her. “I think I can handle it.”

She looks out the window, watching the scenery pass by. “Have you run into anyone else since you’ve been back in town?” she asks after a few minutes tick by.

“No, but I haven’t really left my parents’ house much.”

“Same. The few times I have left, I’ve run into you. Funny, isn’t it? We go years without talking and it’s like I can’t avoid you.” She turns, and I can feel her eyes on me. Slowing at a stop sign, I take my eyes off the road for a second to look at her. “I think you are stalking me.”

“I was going to say the same about you. I was at the bar and Silver Café first. You showing up after I was already there means you’re the stalker.”

“Hah, that’s the same thing I said to Lauren today.”

“Lauren?” I question.

“The girl from the bar…we saw her at Sunset Tavern.”

“Oh, the chick Mason went home with. Maybe? He was with her friend when I left, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he brought them both back with him.”

“You left without Mason?” she asks, eyes going wide.

“Yeah, I’m not his keeper.”

“And you went back to your parents’ house?”

I shake my head. “Jacob’s. I had to check on the dog.”

Chloe smiles and lets out a breath. “That’s really sweet. And if I was stalking you…would you mind?”

“If you stalked me? I suppose it would depend on the reasoning.”

“So I could kidnap you, lock you in a dark basement, starving you so your skin gets all baggy and I can cut it up to make a quilt.”

“I would expect nothing less.”

“I’d sell your organs on the black market too.”

“Make sure you get top dollar. I like to think I’m rather expensive.”

“You are, though I might have to knock a few thousand off due to your old age.”

“Please,” I retort. “I’m only two years older than you.”

“I know, I know…I’m getting old too. At least I don’t look like it.”

“And I do?” I laugh.

Chloe reaches over and messes with my hair. It sends a shock through me and I grip the steering wheel tightly. “Nah. You don’t have any grays yet. Though it’s so unfair guys are ‘sexy’ and ‘distinguished’ with salt-and-pepper hair and women are shamed.”

“Are people really as superficial in LA as TV shows make them seem?”

“Yes and no. It depends on where you are and what crowd you’re running with. Anyone in the film world is always worried about their looks but mostly because the media will criticize them and it can be a hard pill to swallow.”

“It would be, and I would not enjoy public criticism. At all.”

“Lucky for you,” she starts. “There’s little to criticize.”

“Thanks for the ego boost.”

“Like you need it.” She’s smiling at me, and I start to get a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. It’s not something I’m used to, and I don’t like it, not one fucking bit.

“Wow,” Chloe says when we pull onto the gravel driveway of my parents’ farmhouse. “It looks the same.”

“Are you getting emotional?” I tease.

“Maybe,” she says back with a laugh. “But it’s just like old times.”

It hits me then, that that is exactly what’s causing the bad feeling. It is just like old times. Old times where I’m stealing glances at Chloe, counting down the days until she turns eighteen so we can be together, because I was so sure everything would magically work out by then.

It’s just like old times, when Chloe will go home, alone. I don’t want it to be just like old times. And I won’t let it. I’m going to do whatever it takes to make Chloe mine.

Chapter Eighteen

Chloe

“It’s so good to see you!” Mrs. Harris pulls me in for a big hug. Sam and I just stepped into the farmhouse and Mrs. Harris bombarded me just like Sam warned she would. Mrs. Harris really stepped in when my mother died, and losing contact with Sam meant not talking to his family anymore either.

“You too.”

“It’s been way too long.” She gives me a final squeeze before letting me go. “You’re even prettier than I remember. You look like your mother.” Mrs. Harris blinks away tears, and I have to blink several times to keep from tearing up as well.

“Dinner smells amazing,” I tell her, looking at the spread of appetizers on the counter. “I hope you didn’t go through too much trouble.”

“It’s never trouble for you, dear.” She smiles.

“Hey, Chloe!” Rory whispers, coming into the room holding her sleeping baby. I flash her a big smile.

“Hey,” I say back, just as quietly. “He’s so sweet.”

“He is, but my arm is falling asleep and I have to pee,” Rory chuckles softly.

“I’ll take him,” Sam, who’s standing behind me, offers. My ovaries threaten to explode when I see Rory gently hand off the sleeping infant to her oldest brother. Sam rocks the baby, keeping him sound asleep.

“Everyone is outside,” Mrs. Harris says. “Michael is outside grilling the steaks. The boys are all out there too.” She turns and checks on the sweet potato fries she has in the oven.

“Do you need any help with dinner?” I ask.

“Oh, no, but thank you.” She picks up another glass dish that’s on the counter and puts it in the oven. “I’m just keeping things warm now. Would you like anything to drink? Sam, why didn’t you offer her anything to drink?”

“Seriously?” Sam mumbles, looking at the sleeping baby in his arms. We’ve only just walked in the house. Sam hasn’t even taken his shoes off yet.

“I’m good for now,” I say.

“Help yourself to anything, dear,” Mrs. Harris says. “I think things are mostly in the same place as they were before.” She turns and looks at Sam, smiling. “You need to have one of your own.”

“I’ll get right on that, Mom,” he says dryly. Rory comes out of the bathroom and takes the baby back from Sam.

“Mom, I’m laying him down. Please do not go get him.” She looks at me. “We’re trying to get him used to napping in his crib at home. He hates it.”