“Hey,” Gwen said, sounding breathless.“You busy?”
Chloe glanced at her worktable, and the pile of finished jewelry that still needed to be photographed, priced and bagged.“Not really.What’s up?”
“I’m meeting Jesse and Knox at the apartment,” Gwen said.“I have to decide on finishes.”
Chloe’s belly gave a little flip.She hadn’t seen either Knox or Jesse since the encounter at the diner with Sawyer, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to.Something about it had been…well, weird.And not just because she’d been sitting there with a sex worker, talking about a threesome, when her dream threesome partners had walked in the door.
Of course it had been weird because of that, but there had been additional weirdness, and it made her feel…well, weird.
“I need a better vocabulary,” she muttered.
“What?”Gwen said.
“Nothing, nothing,” Chloe said.“What were you saying?”
“Well, I’ve decided on the flooring, but I can’t decide on the cabinets or the paint.I need you to help me decide.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Gwen.”
“Come on, please?”Gwen wheedled.“You said you’re not busy.”
“I know, but…” Chloe bit her lip.“I haven’t seen them since the diner.”
“Oh.Not at all?”
“No.They haven’t come into the pub, and I haven’t gone over to check on the reno.It just felt…I don’t know, off.”
“I get that,” Gwen said.“But I really need your opinion.Please?”
“I don’t know.”
“You can zip and right back out,” Gwen said.“Honestly, I just need you for a few minutes.Please?”
Shit.Chloe sighed.“All right.Come here first, though, so we can go over together.”
“You’re the best,” Gwen crowed, and smooching sounds came through the line.“I’m on my way, see you in ten.”
Chloe hung up the phone, then scowled down at the leggings and oversized T-shirt she was wearing.Excellent work-from-home wear, terrible seeing-the-guys-you’re-crushing-on clothes.And her hair was probably a mess, too.
Hating herself for it but too proud not to, she headed to the bedroom to change—but not into that damn pushup bra.
Nine minutes later she opened the door to Gwen, wearing clean leggings and an oversized flannel shirt with the cuffs rolled to the elbows.It hung open over a plain white T-shirt, under which she wore a comfortable bralette that pushed absolutely nothing anywhere.She’d fluffed her hair, swiped on some mascara and lip gloss, and called it good.
“Hey.”Gwen leaned in to kiss Chloe’s cheek, her lips chilled from the cold.“Mmm, you’re warm.”
“And you’re not,” Chloe said, noting Gwen’s bright red cheeks and fogging glasses.“Did the heater go out in your car again?”
“Yes, and I’m going to kill that rat fuck mechanic.”Peeling off her gloves, Gwen slapped them on the kitchen counter and glowered.“Nine hundred dollars to fix it, and it lasted two weeks.”
“Want me to sic Roman on him?”Chloe asked.
“Why would I want your older brother to talk to my mechanic?”Gwen wondered.
“He can be very intimidating,” Chloe claimed.“Which is ironic, because normally he’s such a teddy bear.”
“Uh-huh.”
“He is,” Chloe insisted.“His patients love him.Last week he came to Mom’s for dinner with his fingernails painted purple because a little girl on his floor gave him a makeover.”
