“Subtlety is overrated,” Bailey argued.
“That should be your motto,” Gwen said drily.
“Besides that, subtlety takes time, and in case you didn’t hear me the first time, I’m fucking hungry,” Bailey continued.
“And I have to pee,” Gwen put in.
“All right, I’m going.”Taking a deep breath, Chloe opened her car door.
“Remember, they might not know Sawyer’s a sex worker,” Bailey said, leaning over to peer at Chloe through the open door.“Don’t out him.”
“Right.”Chloe slammed the door behind her and started up the walk.The house loomed in front of her, a gothic shadow against the snowy night, and under any other circumstances she would’ve been charmed.Climbing the trio of steps to the front door with butterflies doing the rhumba in her belly, she lifted the heavy door knocker and banged it against wood.
She winced at the sound—loud in the snow-cushioned quiet—and stepped back, hands tucked in the pockets of her coat, and began to count.
If no one answered by the time she got to thirty, she’d go.
She was at seventeen when the door swung open and Jesse stood in the glowing circle of the porch light.He wore a Henley of soft blue nearly the same color as his jeans, and his feet were bare.The light gilded his hair, tipping the tousled curls in gold, and cast his face in shadow.
“Chloe?”he said, surprise and puzzlement in the tone.
She pulled a hand out of her pocket to wave like a dork.“Hi.”
He stepped to the threshold and the light struck his face.Concern darkened his eyes.“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, sure.”Feeling awkward, and trying not to stare—he looked really good, and why were bare feet so sexy?—she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.“You live in a church.”
“Yeah, converted.Are you sure everything’s okay?”
“Yeah, I just…”Suck it up, she ordered herself.“I wanted to talk to you and Knox about something, if you have a minute.”
“Sure,” he said to her and taking a step back, opened the door wide.“Come on in.”
With no graceful way to back out without looking like an even bigger dork—she couldn’t believe she’d waved—she stepped inside.She could see his eyes now, warm and soft and confused.“Thanks.”
Because looking at him made her nervous, she looked around.And promptly forgot about being nervous.“Whoa.”
They stood inside a small entryway.The walls were paneled in rich, dark wood, carved and polished so it glowed.There was a door to her left that echoed the shape of the lancet windows.And at the top, forming the peak of the lancet, were three panels of exquisite stained glass.
“This is beautiful.”She reached out a hand to stroke the paneling, running her fingers along the carving.“Is this wood original?”
Jesse nodded.“Most of it.We matched what we couldn’t save.”
“It’s stunning,” she said and, realizing she was stroking the wall like she would a lover, tucked her hand into her pocket again.
“It was a lot of work, but worth it.”He opened the inner door.“Come on in.”
They walked into what would have been the main area of the church, where pews would have once marched in rows, facing the altar.But the only thing that marked it as a former house of worship now was the glow of stained glass and the scent of candlewax.Now, it was one large, open living space, with a pool table at the front and at the center, a cozy living area with a pair of couches in rich brown leather and plush velvet chairs the color of spring grass.On one wall, between stained-glass windows, hung a large-screen TV and on the other, a gas fireplace that flickered and glowed.And along the back wall was a kitchen, outfitted with marble counters and gleaming appliances.Candles in an iron stand that might have come from this very church stood on the island, reminding her of her childhood Sundays spent at morning Mass.
There was an archway next to the kitchen—lancet shaped, naturally—leading somewhere she couldn’t see, and the ceiling was the same old, polished wood as the paneling in the entryway.A trio of light fixtures—though chandeliers was probably a better word—that looked like they cost more than her car hung over each area, further defining each space.There were plush rugs over the wood floors, something bluesey played low on a speaker somewhere, and over the candle wax she could smell the spice of red sauce.
“Wow,” she said.
“Is that a good wow?”Jesse asked.
“That’s a wow, wow.”She turned in a circle, trying to take it all in.“Did you guys do all this work yourself?”
“Pretty much.”Looking pleased and proud, Jesse tucked his thumbs into his pockets.“We had to work it in between other projects, squeeze in time at night and on the weekends.We were living in a construction zone for a while.”
