Chloe shuddered. “She doesn’t knowyou’rehere, that you’re involved. I might actually get a bye based on that.”
His grin grew, causing her frown to deepen. “Your mom always liked me.”
“Liked. As in past tense. Then you stole her favorite wedding gift, cleaned out her wallet and made me cry. I suspect she’d be in the front of the line, even before my brothers, to kick your ass.”
Blake was sure she was right. And that thought hurt. He’d always adored Chloe’s mother. She was the only mom in history who hadn’t taken one look at his ripped-up jeans, leather jacket and bad attitude, then issued an order for him to get the hell away from her daughter. Instead, she’d invited him in for Sunday dinner, engaged him in conversation and seen something of value inside him that Blake couldn’t see himself at the time.
Then he’d betrayed Mama Lewis’ belief that he’d do the right thing, rejected Chloe and run off like a thief in the night.
No. Notlike. Literally a thief. He’d stolen two hundred dollars from Mama Lewis’ purse and a silver serving platter.
“I’m sorry, Chloe.”
She studied his face for several quiet moments. He didn’t bother to hide. He wanted her to see, to read the sincerity in his words. His life was overflowing with regrets, but stealing from Chloe’s family and leaving her ranked at the very top of the list.
“Maybe you are. But you’re not forgiven.” Her words were hard, final.
And not at all surprising. Because he’d stolen more from Chloe than just some money. He’d taken her virginity and her young girl’s love and trust and he’d trampled all over it.
“I’ll tell my captain to find someone else from the NOPD to pose for the calendar. You’re more valuable to the project than I am.”
She nodded. “Fine.”
He took one last look at her, wondering how long—if ever—it would be until their paths crossed again. Would he have to wait months? Years? Longer? He’d thought of her more than he cared to admit over the past decade—her face often the last one he saw when he closed his eyes at night. He’d always wondered if she was happy, if she’d married or fallen in love, had kids. A quick glance at her bare ring finger answered the marriage question.
The idea of never seeing her again was more painful than he would have imagined. “Goodbye, Chloe.”
He turned to leave, but his exit was cut short when Captain Rogers’ wife appeared with two other women in tow. “Oh, Detective Mills, I’m so glad we caught you and Chloe before you started. My friends and I were just heading out for lunch and I wanted them to meet you.” She turned to the women with her, briefly introducing them as fellow committee members. “I was absolutely delighted when you volunteered for this project.”
“Short straw, huh?” Chloe muttered.
“I was afraid my husband was going to have to recruit someone unwilling. Heaven only knows how that would have turned out.” Mrs. Rogers turned to Chloe, beaming. “Didn’t I send you a wonderful subject? And I have no doubt his bio for the calendar will be the most impressive one. After all, he received the Medal of Valor when he saved two people from a burning building and his work with juveniles has been truly inspiring. Speaking of bios,” Mrs. Rogers pulled several sheets of paper from her purse. “Here’s Blake’s bio, along with two others. I told your mother I’d drop them off to you today.”
Blake didn’t turn to look at Chloe. He hated being the center of attention. He’d done his job, nothing more. To hear Mrs. Rogers going on and on about his accomplishments like he was some sort of freaking superhero made him uncomfortable.
“I didn’t do anything more than any other officer on the force would have done.” He hoped that answer would be enough to kill the subject. It wasn’t.
Mrs. Rogers was on a roll. “Plus he was instrumental in shutting down a major drug ring. My husband said it was the first time in all his years he felt a spark of hope for our local kids. Blake ensured there would be a lot fewer dealers on the playgrounds. All of this and he’s only been on the force for five years.”
Taking down that drug ring was one of the hardest things he’d ever done in his life—because it had involved him arresting his own father. That was one of the lowest moments in Blake’s life, and to hear Mrs. Rogers discussing it as an accolade made him sick to his stomach.
“Actually, Mrs. Rogers, I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to?—”
“Take the pictures today,” Chloe interjected. “Detective Mills and I were just discussing some possible locales.”
Blake turned to look at Chloe. She’d just threatened to walk off the project if he was involved. Now it sounded as if she was volunteering to make the job even harder. Locales?
Mrs. Rogers frowned, confused. “I was under the impression all the photographs would be shot here in your studio.”
“That was the original plan, but after talking to the detective, it occurred to me that the photos would be more interesting if they were taken in a variety of locations and included something that reflected each man’s interests.”
Blake nodded, not about to miss this opportunity to spend more time with Chloe. “I’m into motorcycles, so we were thinking of riding out to Lake Pontchartrain and snapping some shots. Or we even discussed the possibility of taking River Road and posing at the plantations.”
Chloe scowled, but didn’t contradict him. The two of them had spent hours flying up and down the highways on his bike when they were younger. The plantations on River Road and the lake had been their favorite destinations. Blake had only gotten his motorcycle—an ancient Harley he’d seen an ad for in the classifieds—that summer. Chloe had been shocked to discover he’d never seen anything outside of the city limits, so she’d made it her mission to expose him to all the beautiful places he’d missed. In a few months, she’d done a great job of opening his eyes to the world just outside the city.
Mrs. Rogers clapped her hands together. “Oh! This sounds wonderful. Even better than we’d hoped. Well then, don’t let us distract you from your work. I can’t wait to see the end result.”
With that, Mrs. Rogers and her friends left in a flurry of excited chatter.