Trust
Page 26

 Jana Aston

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 I tilt my head and wonder why she stopped. “The guy used butter for what? To kill someone?” I guess, knowing her love of murder mysteries.
 She blinks then agrees. “Yup. That’s what he did. Anyway, want to hear another joke?” She’s really interested in moving on from the butter, which just piques my interest even more.
 “How?”
 “What?” She blinks like a deer in the headlights.
 “How did he kill someone with butter?”
 She pauses too long so I already know she’s about to lie. “Um…” Her eyes flicker to the window. “I forgot.”
 “You forgot?”
 “Yeah.” She shakes her head and picks up the sweetener packet snowball she made earlier and rolls it between her finger and thumb. “I don’t remember.”
 “Huh,” I reply and stare at her for a few moments while I think about that. “What kind of book was it?” I ask and her eyes widen. Bingo. “Was it a murder-mystery book, Chloe?” I ask just to fuck with her. “Or maybe a cookbook?” I’m completely straight-faced. “Were you looking up a pound cake recipe? Lots of butter in pound cake.” I trail off and rub my jaw. “Or… wait. Was it a filthy romance novel?” I fake stupefaction. “Were they using butter to do dirty sexual things? Chloe Scott, I am shocked. Shocked. You teach the second grade.” I shake my head in mock disappointment. “I can’t believe you would fill your head with such filth.”
 The waitress stops by to take our orders and refill our coffees. I tell her Chloe wants extra butter with breakfast while Chloe groans and slaps her palm against her forehead. When the waitress leaves Chloe rolls her eyes at me and asks if I’m done or if she needs to put me in the timeout corner, which just makes me grin.
 “Tell me more about the timeout corner, Miss Scott. I might be interested.”
 “Hey, can I tell you a joke about pizza?” she responds, apparently ready to change the subject.
 “Okay.” I nod.
 “Forget it—you’ll think it’s cheesy.” She grins. “Get it? Cheesy!”
 “You must be very popular at school.”
 “I do okay,” she says, but she smiles shyly and shrugs.
   ***
   After breakfast we continue towards Vail, getting back onto Highway 6 before quickly merging onto I-70. We’ll be in Vail Village in under half an hour. The highway isn’t straight here. The road curves through the canyon, following the path of least resistance as it was constructed. It makes for an impressive view with which Chloe is enamored. I can’t blame her. Vail Village in the fall is something to see. I don’t usually visit until there’s enough snow for skiing, but maybe I’ll start. Chloe is hypnotized over the colors of the trees and the sheer size of it all and I’m captivated by watching her enjoy it.
 We’re turning onto Frontage Road headed into Vail Village when she tells me she met someone.
 “What’s that?” I ask, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.
 She nods and pulls out her phone. “On Facebook. I don’t know why I’m bothering with dating sites when there are guys like this available.” She waves the phone.
 Fuck that. I’m available.
 “I don’t think you’re ready yet,” I snap. “We’re still practicing your dating skills, remember?”
 “Oh.” She frowns. “Are we exclusively practicing? I didn’t know. I thought this guy would be good practice.”
 I make a mental note to hack her and alter all the incoming messages from men. Why the hell didn’t I do this the day I met her? When she told me about men sending her photos of their dicks?
 “So tell me about him,” I finally say. I might as well get his name so I can delete his shit first.
 “His name is Tom,” she gushes, “and he really wants to meet me.”
 “Uh-huh.”
 “But first he needs me to send him money for airfare. That sounds reasonable, don’t you think?”
 “No.” I frown as I take a right onto Lionshead Circle. I’m putting an end to this today and I’m feeling pretty satisfied that I had the foresight to pack my laptop. Bye-bye, Tom.
 “Well, Tom is ready to make a commitment. He is”—she glances at the phone—“much impressed with me and would like to proceed our courtship. I think he might be a keeper because he doesn’t even care that I’m pregnant with your baby.”
 Jesus fuck. She’s messing with me.
 “He said”—she scrolls through the messages on her phone before continuing—”‘These are the things that happen and we must all love the babies.’”
 “Chloe,” I groan.
 “Then I asked him if he liked long walks on the beach and he asked me for my age date.”
 I pull into the valet at the Arrabelle and put the car into park before looking at Chloe.
 “So what do you think?” she asks, eyes wide. “I mean obviously we have a little language barrier to work out, but I think he has potential.”
 I snatch the phone from her hand and tap out a quick ‘fuck off’ to Tom before blocking him from Chloe’s account and passing the phone back.
 “Hey!” she protests, but she’s laughing. Little imp.
 “Why would you even reply to that guy, Chloe?”
 “I don’t get out much, Boyd. I gotta practice where I can.”
 “You don’t need any practice being a smartass.”
 “Boyd Gallagher.” She lowers her lashes and gives me a seductive glance. “That might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” Then she laughs.
 
 
Thirteen

 Chloe  Holy wow. I’m in Vail with Boyd. For the weekend. The entire freaking weekend! Why did I agree to this? I never should have agreed to this. He caught me off guard, showing up at my apartment last night. It never occurred to me that the wedding would be anywhere other than Philadelphia and then when he showed and told me to pack a bag I couldn’t think fast enough of any reasonable reason not to go.