Chapter 8
Tex
We ended up sitting at my kitchen table and talking until two in the morning.
It was the weirdest thing, but Chloe waseasyto talk to.
Our conversation started off slow and subdued. But by the end, words were flowing between us freely, punctuated by pleasant pauses of silence.
Chloe was thoughtful with her words. And she seemed to study people and situations before interjecting her thoughts. I appreciated that about her. I was kind of similar, I guess.
Not that there weren’t differences of course.
And no matter how much I might enjoy this woman’s company, it didn’t mean anything.
Even if we did end up sleeping with each other—which the spicy heat between us suggested might happen—we still wouldn’t end up together. She’d already said she’d lived a life without roots.
And that was all I had. Roots.
But I was just trying to enjoy the present moment. I couldn’t think too far ahead.
The present moment said her eyes were starting to get sleepy.
“Maybe we should go to bed.”
That popped her wide awake. “Bed. Yeah.”
She almost looked nervous, so I made it effortless for her.
“Let me dig out an extra toothbrush for you. I have a new one that I haven’t used yet, still in its original package. There’s soap if you want to wash your face. Nothing fancy, though. Nothing that smells like fruity bubbles. Or if you want to take a shower before bed—not that you have to! But if you wanted to, you could. There’s shampoo in the bathroom. I don’t have a clean towel, though. You’ll have to use mine.”
“Yours?” she asked as she stood up and followed me to the tiny bathroom.
“I only keep one towel. It’s only me here usually.”
“Oh. Interesting. So you’re a one-towel kind of man.”
“Yup. I guess so.” I looked her up and down. “You probably have a dozen towels, all with pretty flowers on them and high thread counts. Do they make Egyptian cotton towels? You look like an Egyptian cotton woman.”
She laughed. “No. I haven’t seen Egyptian cotton since I left my ex. I have a few towels from a thrift store. My finances haven’t been… there hasn’t been a lot of extra room for luxuries lately.”
That made my brow furrow. She looked well put together, but I couldn’t deny that the car parked out front had seen better days, and her winter coat looked like it came from the one-dollar resale bin at a thrift shop. I didn’t like the idea of Chloe living such a tight existence that she couldn’t afford a frilly towel or two.
Look at me, acting the fool.
I was practically ready to buy her some pretty towels myself.
I’d never been one to fall into the trap of rescuing beautiful women from their plights. But something about Chloe made me want to fix all her problems.
She’s the kind of woman who deserves to be spoiled.
Which made the direction of my thoughts even more ridiculous.
What did I have? Not much.
This place, and the few acres of woods around it, and an old pickup truck that I kept running well, even if it wasn’t a beauty queen anymore. Plus a seasonal job doing construction during the warmer months.
The idea that she could want a man like me for anything more than a night in the sack was preposterous.
