She could hear his smile when he said, “I’m just the next in a long line of victims, then?”
Playing along, she said, “Yeah. Basically. What can I say? It’s what I do.”
“Well, that was nice of him, I guess, if not misguided.”
“Pretty much. He gets an A for effort,” she agreed.
“How are your shoulders holding up?” he asked.
“They’re not. They fell off. I think I may have to quit CrossFit. I’m in so much pain today.” Pausing for a moment, she added, “Although I feel that some of my achy muscles may be from another activity altogether.”
“Aww. Poor baby. You could come over and take a swim in my tub if you want,” he said, a hint of lasciviousness in his tone now.
Chloe laughed, then asked, “Is this how you lure women back to your den? Promises of whirlpool bath tub swimming?”
All traces of humor gone, he said, “Nope. You’re actually the first woman that’s been in my tub. It was a night of firsts, I guess.”
She was quiet for a moment, taking that in, and then she asked, “Really?”
“Yeah,” he said, honestly. “I don’t normally do the whole what did you call it? Slumber party thing? The tub is mostly for my knee. Last night was the first time I’d used it like a recreational device.”
Hearing the smirk in his voice now, she relaxed a little.
“So, no sleepovers, huh? Is that some sort of personal rule?” she asked, curious.
“Obviously not a very steadfast one,” he said. “But, I’ve known you so long that it’s kind of different between us. We’re comfortable around each other. When we met each other, we were probably both at our worst. Knowing all of the shit that we do about each other, it seems silly for me to treat you like some random chick I just met.”
“You clearly put some thought into that,” Chloe said. “I agree. We did probably meet when I was at my worst. When my mom left, that really fucked me up. You probably know the worst things about me and still want to take my pants off. There’s something kind of comforting about that thought.”
“Hell yeah, I do,” he said.
Laughing now, she said, “I am gonna go take a hot shower, then try to put some of that muscle stuff on my shoulders again.”
“All right, then. Hope it helps. Talk to you soon.”
“Night.”
“Night.”
Chloe was impressed with her own restraint. Rather than asking him the million questions that had been running through her mind, she’d just followed the natural lead of the conversation. He’d divulged more about his feelings than she’d ever expected him to.
He’d admitted that he was treating this situation with her differently than he did with other women. Maybe she’d take a leaf out of his book and not ask him all the questions that were flooding her mind. If he was willing to change his patterns, then maybe she should, too. God knows the whole “nag them to death” approach hadn’t been working out for her thus far.
Chapter 10
By lunch time on Monday, Chris was done with most of the prep work for Innova needed for the following day. He had reworked the proposal slightly based on the suggestions from Jim last week. He was about to meet with Jim and Deacon both. Between the three of them, they’d be able to find anything he might have missed.
He was really looking forward to sitting down with the group from Innova. They were a fun bunch, and they really seemed to know what they wanted. There was nothing worse than a client who had no idea what they wanted.
They were meeting all day tomorrow and part of Wednesday. He really hoped to have some signatures before they left. It was looking promising, based on their last meeting.
When Chris had printed out the final copies of the proposal, he grabbed all three and headed to Jim’s office. Sticking his head in the door, he saw that both of them were there, waiting.
“Hey, guys. Here’s the most recent copy. I added some additional commercial time on NBC during major sporting events. I managed to talk them into a deal, provided that we throw an exclusive interview their way this year. They weren’t particularly concerned about with whom,” Chris said.
Jim nodded and said, “I’m sure we can work something out there. Surprised they even entertained the idea. The last guy I spoke to there acted like I had the plague.”
Shrugging, Chris said, “He was a fan of my college career. He was impressed I could string a sentence together. I fucking hate that kind of shit.”