Figure of Speech - Page 7/66

Jim smiled wryly. “I hate to say it but I’m beginning to think of him that way too.”

The brothers shared a sympathetic glance before Jim gave his attention once more to Chloe. “So. Once my parents figured out I was helping Spencer, they both freaked and demanded I stay away from him.”

“Yeah, the sperm donor even went so far as to call and threaten me. Said he’d cut Jim off if I didn’t drive him away.”

Jim glared at Spencer. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Spencer shrugged. “It didn’t matter.” That cheeky, lovable grin crossed his face. “Besides, you would have ignored me if I’d tried.”

“True.”

“Worse, it happened.” Spencer tightened his grip on Chloe’s hand when she tried to pull away. “His father stopped speaking to him months ago, and his mother? She’s kind of…well…”

Jim shrugged fatalistically. “Rage-tastic?”

“Status Dramaticus?”

He frowned as he tried to come up with another one. It was a game they played, both of them enjoying the play on words. “E-vil-gelical?

Spencer tapped his finger on his chin. “She likes to go mid-evil on your ass.”

Jim rolled his eyes at that one. “That was bad.”

“I try.”

“Next time she calls you’ll just have to grim and bear it.” Chloe blinked innocently. Whether the misspoken word was meant or not, Jim chose to believe it was. She was playing their game.

Spencer sighed happily. “I like her. Can we keep her?”

“Do I get a say in it?” Chloe tried to pull free once more, but Spencer was like a dog with a bone when he wanted something, and he wanted Chloe for Jim.

His poor mate didn’t stand a chance.

“Nope.” Jim stood, holding out his hand. “So, take a walk with me?”

“Wait. Hold up there.” Spencer let go of Chloe. “You’re leaving me in estrogen central?”

“Why do guys keep calling it that?” Emma tilted her head, her ponytail brushing her shoulder.

“I don’t get it,” Becky added.

Sheri chuckled. “I do, but I’m not telling.”

Jim ignored the playful banter between the three women and pulled Chloe to her feet. Like Emma Cannon didn’t know exactly what men thought when they entered Wallflowers for the first time. “Come on. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Chloe glared at him but took his hand. “I mill haven’t decided if I forbid you yet.”

“I know. But are you willing to give me the chance to earn your forgiveness?” He didn’t know what he’d do if she said no. Probably become some sort of creepy stalker she’d need a restraining order and some wolfsbane pepper spray to get rid of.

She nodded slowly, her expression almost reluctant. “I can try.”

“Good.” He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles.

The color that flooded her cheeks made him grin. He loved that she blushed so easily. He had so much to learn about his mate, so much that he’d let slide by him. Now that Spencer was home, he could concentrate on fixing the mistakes he’d made with Chloe, starting now.

And if she wouldn’t let him, well…

Wolves were very good at stalking their prey.

Chapter Three

Chloe couldn’t believe it. She was walking down the street with her mate, her hand held tightly in his. The quick little glances he kept sending her, as if he expected her to run if he loosened his grip, were oddly reassuring. He was making it clear he wanted her right where she was.

Chloe blew out a breath and tried to steady herself. She was so nervous she was afraid she might not be able to speak, and her left hand kept twitching uncontrollably.

“How’s the speech therapy going?”

Chloe startled. They’d been walking in silence for so long she’d sort of expected it to continue that way. “I’m trying to burn to slow my beach down, but it’s harder than it creams.” She sighed wearily, wondering how Jim would take her garbled speech.

“Take your time. I won’t rush you.” Another quick glance. “Your speech is barely slurred.”

“It was glad in the beginning, but it’s gotten a slot better.”

Jim stopped and turned toward her, forcing her to halt as well. “I want you to do what your therapist said, and slow down a bit. All right? I’m listening, and I know what you’re trying to say.”

Chloe once again tried to relax. Jim smiled sympathetically, but that didn’t help at all. “I…” She frowned, the words lost for a second. Sometimes it was almost worse when she tried to concentrate. It was as if she could feel the words slipping and sliding through her mind, hiding from her. “I’m. Still. Hungry.”

Jim laughed. “You didn’t get to finish your sandwich, did you?” He began walking again. “Let’s hit Frank’s, and we can talk some more.”

“Yay.” Chloe grimaced. Her family might put up with her weirdness, but she doubted Jim would for long.

“You don’t want to talk to me?”

She blew out a frustrated breath, the words sliding away again. “No.” She shook her head. “Yes.”

Jim lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. While her Fox was doing the Snoopy dance, her head was telling her that at some point he’d pull away again. A one-eighty like this couldn’t last, could it?

They entered Frank’s Diner. Jim put his arm around her shoulders and began maneuvering them through the lunchtime crowd.

“My valance is fine.”

Jim blinked, but it didn’t take him very long to figure out what she was trying to say. “Oh. Balance? I know.”

“Then why are you holding me?”

He grinned sheepishly. “Because I want to.”

Before she could respond they were at a booth. She slid into the seat, and Jim took the one across from her. “So.” She picked up one of the rolled napkin and silverware thingies and began to unravel it, picking the napkin apart into tiny little pieces. “Spencer.”

He nodded. “My father had an affair with a woman living in Chicago. When she became pregnant, he abandoned her. She was a single mom with no support from him or the rest of her family, and she was too proud to go after a married father for child support. She raised Spencer on her own and did a damn fine job of it.”