Free Fool for Love by Beth Ciotta

suddenly that she’d lost Bert’s trunks in the river and that she was standing there in her thong and demi-bra. The inner tube pretty much covered her front, but Devlin had seen her backside when he’d carried her out of the water. Just now said backside was exposed for the world to see—should anyone happen by.
    Shoot me now.
    He moved in behind her, concealing her bare butt, and helped her into his shirt.
    She dropped the tube and hurriedly buttoned up. Although his shirt was soaked and probably see-through, it was better than nothing.
    She started to thank him, but Daisy emerged from a thicket of trees, hurrying toward them in her bra and girdle. “Are you all right?” she asked Chloe.
    “I’m fine. You?”
    “Dandy. Except for my killjoy grandson here. I—”
    “We’ll talk about this when everyone’s dry and decent.” Stern-faced, he guided them through the trees, up an incline, and toward the covered bridge.
    Even though his bare torso was glorious to behold, it was difficult to enjoy when his mood was so prickly. Chloe fell into sullen silence while contemplating the best way of defending her actions without blaming the entire mess on Daisy.
    Daisy pouted from the time Devlin loaded them into his Escalade to the moment he dropped them at Bert’s, where they retrieved their clothing and the Caddy. Once the two women were alone in the old car, Daisy let loose with her gripes and concerns about her uptight, controlling grandson, then lapsed into an excited ramble about tonight’s cupcake meeting. She had a new recipe that she was dying to share and hoped Tasha—whoever that was—didn’t rain on her parade, again. The conversation was mostly one sided. Partly because Daisy wouldn’t stop talking, partly because Chloe was obsessing on the man who’d insisted on following them home.
    Unsettled and dreading a showdown, Chloe was beyond relieved when she parked the Caddy in Daisy’s driveway and, after pausing to make sure they headed directly inside the house, Devlin kept driving.
    Maybe he’d decided there was nothing more to talk about. He’d pretty much said it all with his hard looks and stony silence. Chloe had screwed up and he wasn’t happy about it.
    She could live with that. Now if she could just erase the image of those wet clothes clinging to his hard body and the memory of his strong embrace, she would be, as Daisy was fond of saying, dandy.
    Desperate for a shower and some downtime, Chloe grabbed her suitcase. “If you could show me to my room—”
    “Later.” Daisy grasped her arm and tugged her toward the kitchen. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a cocktail. While we’re at it, I want your opinion on my Cinnamon Applesauce Cupcakes. By the way,” she added before Chloe could get a word in, “I think my grandson has the hots for you.”

 
    EIGHT
    “I can’t believe Dev allowed you to borrow his house,” Monica said. “For the meeting, I mean. He’s so private. Wasn’t he worried we’d poke around?”
    “Worried enough to scrub the bathroom and kitchen,” Rocky said as she poured her friend a cup of Earl Grey. “He must’ve really gone at it. The toilet bowl’s gleaming.”
    “You checked the toilet?”
    “Are you serious? You know men.”
    “I know Leo. He’s usually pretty good, but once in a while he splashes the rim. What’s so hard about aiming their willies for the middle?”
    “Did you just say ‘willy’?”
    “Leo and I made a pact to clean up our potty mouths. You know, for when the little one comes.”
    Was that a hint of thrilling news? Rocky grinned. “So you’re—”
    “Not yet. Hopefully soon. You’d think after three months of doing it every day, twice a day…”
    “Wow.”
    “Yeah, well, Leo’s starting to wear on stamina … and patience. Don’t get me started.” Monica sipped tea, regrouped, then smiled. “So, why’d you ask me to show early? What’s up?”
    “My curiosity. Maybe you know something I