Page 86 of Making New Plans

Then she heated my blood from a simmer to a boil when she did that light leap that she does and wrapped her legs around my waist. I always lost my mind when she did that. My hands clamped onto the underside of her thighs as I walked us to her office door.

I needed a surface, any surface.

I jiggled the knob and kicked the door open, never letting her mouth escape mine. My fingers ached to shred every piece of clothing between us. Arms shaking with restraint, I laid her gently on the desk. Her agile hands slipped under my shirt and teased my tense muscles while dipping into my waistband.

I yanked one of her blouse sleeves down. “Hmm, that black one I love,” I said as I lifted the satin bra strap with one finger to lightly sink my teeth into her shoulder.

She gasped and lifted off the desk, slamming her hips into mine as she did so. I growled at the almost-painful pleasure swirling in my abdomen. My lips worked their way down her chest.

“Chloe Miranda Higgins.”

We both shot upright at the irate voice. While Chloe slid off the desk and pulled her clothes back together, I eyed the small woman who looked like she might club me with her purple handbag. My scattered brain made the fleeting connection that, of course, Chloe’s mother would foist her name on her daughter.

Miranda hissed at Chloe, “So, this is what was so important that you had to miss Sunday night dinner. Again.”

Once put together, Chloe faced her mother, hands clenched at her sides. “I texted you that I was busy. That should be sufficient.”

“Busy? Busy?!” The woman’s voice was reaching new heights of angry screech owl. Her eyes brimmed with vengeful fire. “Busy is when you have multiple committee meetings in one night. Busy is when you’re running a town through your dolt of a husband while making it look effortless. Busy,” she snarled, glaring at me, “is not fornicating on a desk at your job where anyone could walk in and see you.”

I felt Chloe shaking next to me, so I rested my hand on the small of her back to comfort her. But she shifted away from me. I pulled my hand back, that slight movement scaring me more than the Medusa in the doorway.

“Look, Mom,” Chloe started. “There aren’t any guests currently in the lodge. I would never—”

“I caught you, didn’t I?” Miranda interrupted icily. “And that still doesn’t explain why you’ve been avoiding me all week, sending me a few insulting texts here and there. I understand that you’re going through a serious lapse of judgment like you sometimes do, but this is ridiculous, bordering on seriously damaging. Now, I want you to tell me here and now, what the hell you think you’re doing with this man?”

She spat out “man” like she really meant a different word. My heart pounded. My stomach hurt. I wanted to say something in defense of myself, in defense of Chloe, but my mind was still wrapping around her rejection of my small, comforting touch.

Chloe’s eyes never left Miranda’s, like I’d ceased to exist. “This is none of your business, Mom. Please leave.”

Miranda drew herself up, her imperious posture intimidating despite her short stature. “No.”

Chloe reared back. “No? You can’t be serious.”

“Oh, I assure you I’ve never been more serious. You were always a flight risk, with your penchant for that awful music and your inability to commit to the things that matter to this family. Your father and your brother have already failed me. I’m not letting you fail me, too.”

Chloe’s shoulders twitched as if she’d shuddered.

Red spots of fury danced over my vision, and I took a step forward. “Don’t talk to her that way, Miranda. You need to listen to Chloe and leave.”

An ugly smirk twisted Miranda’s lips. “Or what? You don’t own this property. You’re not a resident of this town. In fact, I believe you’re leaving at the end of the week. Why should I listen to you?”

A growl rose in my throat. “Because you’re making an ugly scene at the place your daughter works.”

She laughed, a short, bitter sound. “No less ugly than the scene going on when I entered.”

My brain started to short-circuit. How could this woman be so insensitive, so judgmental, so cruel?

Chloe’s quiet voice pierced the silence. “I’m not the one making a mistake here, Mother. You are.”

“I beg to differ. You’ve already thrown away two other good relationships and insist on passing up others that could actually benefit you.” She pointed an accusing finger at me. “What does he have to offer you? What is he willing to sacrifice? His parents accomplished nothing. And I’ve seen nothing from him that suggests he has ambitions otherwise. Yet, you climb right into his bed.”

Something splintered in my chest, and poisonous pain spilled over the glass edges. Miranda had landed a direct hit.

Nothing. That was what I summed up to in her mind. Me and my parents. Nothing. What if Chloe thought that? No, she couldn’t. But she’d barely said a word in our defense.

Everything suddenly felt shaky and uncertain. The dormant desire to run woke and surged through my veins.

I almost missed Chloe’s next words. “I don’t want your help or your opinion. Get. Out.”

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