Free Forty Candles by Virginia Nelson

of hell itself stop me from finding happily ever after. Not everyone is wired like that. I enjoy my freedom, enjoy not being tied down.”
    Harper snorted. “Okay, well, if you ever want to talk…”
    Pasting on a smile, Chloe focused on Harper’s hair since she didn’t feel right looking her in the eye. “It was a simple question, Harp. I thought Jack was hot and horny last night and he got my motor revving. Then he left. It seemed weird, is all, so I just wondered…”
    “Nope,” Harper answered, relaxing back in her seat as their coffees were topped off by the waitress. “Never struck me as anything other than a woman hungry cowboy cop.”
    Chloe shrugged. “Still, weird that he left.”
    “I don’t think so.”
    “Why?” Chloe chewed over possible reasons why he left all night and most of this morning. Nothing made sense, hence her broaching the shaky territory with her best pal.
    “I think he’s trying to keep you off balance. If he sleeps with you, it becomes easy for you to lump him in whatever category you’ve lumped other men. By waiting, I think he’s showing you that you mean more than a turn in the sack.”
    Chloe snorted. “Or, well…”
    “What?”
    “Maybe he’s not attracted to me?” She didn’t mean it to come out as a question and bit her lip.
    “Honey, the man stares at you like you’re his oasis in the desert. He’s mooned after you since we were kids. I think he fell for you the moment you got out of that over packed U-Haul and moved in next door to him. Attraction? Yeah, that’s not the issue.”
    Chloe shrugged. The idea bothered her, more than she could admit.
    Maybe she was getting old, less attractive, losing her mojo.
    “I think he might love you, Chloe.”
    Rolling her eyes, Chloe sipped her coffee. “Yep, and I believe in Santa. If by love, you mean cares about me and always has? Sure. He loves me. I love him. But in love? Like happily ever after, in a Dylan and Harper sort of way? That kind of thing happens so rarely…the odds alone say that’s not what’s up here.”
    “If you say so.” The secretive smile curling Harper’s lips annoyed her so much that she stood, flipping some money onto the table.
    “I got breakfast. I’ll call you later.”
    “Mmm-kay.” Harper tugged her cell phone free of her purse and began clicking. “Give it some thought, though. Remember when you asked me what was holding me back with Dylan? The fear of what might go wrong… might being the key word. What’s the worst thing that will happen if you just relax and let the Jack thing play out?”
    “Lots. Not all love stories end like yours, Harper.” She headed out, but couldn’t escape the memories.
    Bright and clear as if she relived it, Chloe pictured her mother, crumpled in a corner in the bathroom.
    The light slanted through the window, tinted by gingham curtains and reflected off lovely walls. Their house was the kind of house that screamed American Dream—stereotypical in all the best ways and always smelling of something her mother cooked.
    Curled in that corner, next to the toilet and looking as out of place as could be, her mother huddled, eyes red from crying, broken like some china doll discarded by a careless child.
    Seeing Chloe staring, her mother stood, wiping snot and tears on the sleeve of her well-pressed blouse. “Baby, I’m sorry.”
    Shaking her head, Chloe ran from her. Daddy would fix this. Everyone always said she was Daddy’s little girl. Down the stairs, skipping steps, she raced.
    The slamming doors, the yells, they’d just stopped so he was still here. He hadn’t left yet.
    The sound of the engine starting filled her with panic, with silent screams that battered her brain and ripped at her chest, begging to be set free. Letting the door connecting to the garage gape open behind her, she ran at the car, flinging herself on the hood. “Daddy!”
    The engine turned off and his car door opened. “Chloe, let go of the car. Go back in the