CHAPTER FOURTEEN: CHLOE

I interlaced my fingers and stretched my arms out in front of me, making one of my knuckles pop.

“Ah,” I gasped as the little ‘knock’ rang through the air and reached my ears. “That felt good.”

There really was nothing like cracking knuckles after typing for a long time. I couldn’t do it in the office because the sound of popping joints apparently gave Melody ‘the ick,’ as she put it, and I tried to refrain from doing it around Theodore because…

Well.

It was a bit of a bad habit of mine, and it was easier to keep some kind of distance between us if I kept up the air of perfect professionalism.

That very same air was why I was sitting at the dining table on a Saturday morning, writing up the report I’d delayed last night. I’d timed my working minutes perfectly, and I’d managed to only go over by ten minutes.

I wasn’t going to demand overtime for that.

Really, if I’d just done it yesterday instead of listening to a certain someone whining about how hungry he was, I’d have had it done during working hours.

The drawn-out exhale of a yawn filled the air, and I turned towards the source right as another one erupted from the half-asleep, half-naked man who was responsible for it.

This was the third time this week.

Him showing up half-naked, that was. Not half-asleep.

For someone who was often running downstairs at the last minute, he was surprisingly chipper on a morning.

It seemed as though that morning personality didn’t extend to the weekends.

Neither did the clothing on his upper body.

And, honestly, it was the purest definition of being between a rock and a hard place.

Theodore Black had the kind of perfectly toned body that wouldn’t be out of place on a poster attached to the wall of a teenage girl’s bedroom. It was the body of someone who ate a good diet and worked out regularly but didn’t live and die by the gym. His shoulders were broad, and his back was toned, and there was just enough visible vein in his forearm to make a girl really stop and think about her life choices until now.

It was me.

I was the girl stopping and thinking about her life choices until now.

Mostly about how the heck I’d ended up here.

Theodore turned on the coffee machine and leant back against the opposite counter, reaching down to scratch his groin.

All right.

I had to make my presence known now.

“Good morning.”

He jerked, jumping away from the counter and turning in my direction. “Jesus Christ, what are you doing over there all quietly?”

“Writing the report on the Sango project,” I replied, hitting the shortcut to save it once more. “What else would I be doing this early on a Saturday morning?”

“I told you that you could leave that for next week.” He pulled a mug down from the cupboard. “Coffee?”

“I have tea.” I pointed to my cup. “And yes, you did, but I wouldn’t be able to rest this weekend with it looming over me.”

“Didn’t you make a point about not working on a weekend?”

“Yes, but I finished early yesterday thanks to you being on your deathbed due to hunger, so I just worked that time instead.”

“Very efficient of you.” He put the mug under the machine and pressed the button to make it brew. “Although you didn’t take my complaints very seriously, given that you did yoga and had a bath before cooking.”

“With your permission,” I reminded him. “And you should buckle up because I’m going to start teaching you how to cook. Starting tonight.”

Theodore froze. “You really don’t need to do that.”

“I really do. Then you can cook for yourself the next time you starve to death.” I reached for my mug and sipped, cradling the still-hot cup in my hands. “It seems too cold for April, don’t you think?”

“Mm, it’s a bit chilly.” He pulled his mug from under the machine and walked over to the table. “Have you finished the report?”

“Yes. Want me to email it to you?”

“No, I’ll just be tempted to work, and I’m trying to find some balance.” He sipped. “Have you seen the lettings office in person yet?”

I peered up at him. “That doesn’t sound like a question someone trying to find some work-life balance should be asking.”

He pressed his lips together. “You’re right.”

“You should also put on a t-shirt.”

“I’m good.”

“I’m not.”

“Am I that bad to look at?” There was an almost playful glint in his eye.

“I believe it was only yesterday I was telling you I’d be horrified to see you naked. My position has not changed since then,” I replied, closing down what I’d been working on. “We’ve also discussed this several times. If I’m wearing a bra, you should be wearing a shirt.”

“Are you wearing a bra?”

“It’s so cold that I can guarantee you’d know if I wasn’t.”

Theodore dropped his gaze to my chest before quickly raising it up again. “Excellent point.”

“Please put on a t-shirt and refrain from ogling my chest.”

“Forgive me. It was a reflex.” He chuckled and took a step back. “Fine, I’ll go put on a t-shirt in a minute. What are you looking at there?”

“Where?” I jerked my attention back to my laptop and paused. “Oh. I was doing some research on the area. I was thinking about getting out and doing something today.”

“Weren’t you just complaining it was cold?”

“If the cold stopped me leaving the house, you’d get no work done all winter,” I pointed out as a knock sounded from the direction of the front door. “Uh, are we expecting Auntie Pat today?”

Theodore shook his head. “No. It might be the postman, though.”

I didn’t know we were getting post here.

“I guess I’ll get it, then. You’re not exactly dressed for visitors.” I hopped up from the table and walked through the cottage to the front door, then opened it. “Hell—oh, my God.”

Charles Black, the Duke of Ruxleigh, beamed at me from the doorstep. “Good morning, dear.”

I blinked at him for a moment before shaking my head. “Your Grace? What are you doing here?”

“Never mind that, let me in. It’s ruddy cold out there.”

“I—sure, sure,” I said, more than a little bewildered by his sudden appearance. “Come on in. Can I get you some tea?”

“Tea sounds smashing. Make that rotten git of a grandson of mine do it instead, though.”

I pushed the door closed behind him as he shrugged off his coat and scarf and hung them up on the empty hook. “Didn’t we just speak on the phone yesterday afternoon? How did you get here so quickly?”

“I got on the train shortly after we got off the phone yesterday. I haven’t been here for a couple of months and wanted to see how the renovations at the manor house are coming along.”

Right. I vaguely recalled him mentioning that Buckley House was undergoing some renovations before it re-opened for some public tours during the summer.

Did checking on that really require him to come in person, though? No. No, it did not.

“Also, I knew that bugger wouldn’t call me,” Charles continued. “So, I came in person.”

That was more like it.

“Chloe, who was at the—Gramps?” Theodore froze in the middle of the kitchen, staring at his grandfather with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?”

The duke sniffed. “It’s my estate. Why can’t I be here?”

“I didn’t say that, you crazy old man.”

Ha. It’d been a long time since I’d seen them talk this casually. “Stop being rude and make him a cup of tea,” I said, wiggling my finger at Theodore. “And before you ask, I offered, but he asked that the ‘rotten git of a grandson’ of his makes it.”

Theodore sighed, dropping his chin to his chest. “There’s no escaping the abuse.”

“Abuse? You wanna see abuse, boy? Chloe, pass me that wooden spoon over there.” Charles waved his hand in my direction, glaring at Theodore.

“I’m staying out of this.” I held up my hands and went to sit back at the table. “Argue amongst yourselves, please. And you.” I pointed at Theo. “Put on a t-shirt.”

“Yes, she’s right, Theo. Put on a t-shirt. Nobody wants to see you shirtless.”

Actually, I knew for a fact there were many, many people—men and women alike—who wanted to see Theodore shirtless, but I wasn’t in the mood to argue that fact.

He’d only misconstrue my words as meaning I wanted to see him shirtless and, quite frankly, it didn’t matter whether I wanted to or not.

I was going to, because he was going to wander about without his shirt as he pleased until I told him otherwise.

“I’m putting it on. Jesus.” Theodore pulled a black t-shirt over his head and tugged it down over his stomach. “Are you both happy now?”

“What’s there to be happy about?” I asked, reaching for my tea. “You’ll only come downstairs half-naked again tomorrow.”

“Boy, are you in for a shock when I show up fully clothed tomorrow.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Charles looked between us. “I see you two are getting along.”

“We’re both still alive,” I replied, sipping my tea and grabbing my mouse. “So, I suppose you could say we’re getting along.”

“I thought he might have charmed you by now, Chloe.”

“One must be charming in order to charm someone, Your Grace.”

“Ouch,” Theodore muttered, handing his grandfather a mug of hot tea. “Once again, living with you is nothing but a series of humbling for me.”

“Good,” Charles said, sitting opposite me at the table. “You need a good humbling, you bugger.”

Theodore leant forwards on the counter and looked over at us. “Gramps, why are you here?”

“I’m here to check on the renovations at the house,” Charles explained. “Seeing the pair of you is a bonus.”

“So, you’re here to check up on me.”

“What an unfair assumption.”

“But not incorrect, clearly.”

“It’s almost as if you think I don’t have any faith in you, Theo.”

Theodore sighed. “I know you do, but we’ve only been here ten days. You showing up here could be taken as you not having faith in me to pull it off.”

I paused, glancing at him. He had a point—the board were looking for any excuse to get rid of him, and this project was the one we were all using to shut them up. Charles being here so soon after we left wouldn’t look good if anyone got wind of it.

“He does have a point,” I said, peering across the table at Charles. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

“Only Alastair and Cassidy,” Charles replied. “Rest assured, nobody has any idea I’m here, and I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning.”

Theodore rubbed his hand through his hair. “Fine, but if anyone finds out, I expect you to deal with it.”

“Of course.” Charles sipped his tea. “Now, will the both of you have dinner with me tonight?”

“I’d be happy to.” Theodore looked at me. “Chloe?”

I shook my head. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ll let you both catch up. It’ll be nice to spend some time alone, too.”

“Are you sure?” Charles asked, looking at me with a hint of sadness in his eyes. “You never have dinner with me anymore.”

“I’m no longer paid to do so.” I grinned.

He clutched his chest. “You’re breaking the heart of this old man.”

“You should have dinner with your grandson, Your Grace,” I said quietly. “You always used to complain the two of you didn’t get enough time alone, so don’t be a grouch now.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell him that,” he grumbled.

“Whoops. I forgot,” I deadpanned.

Theodore coughed, covering up a laugh. “Gramps, let her have some time alone. She’s been working hard.”

Charles grunted. “I’m sure she has, looking after your miserable arse twenty-four-seven.”

“Grandfather.”

“Don’t you ‘grandfather’ me, you swine.”

“Would it kill you to not insult me for one conversation?”

“And this is exactly why I’m not having dinner with you,” I said brightly, switching my browser tab to TripAdvisor. “Now, since you have nothing better to do, why don’t you give me an idea of what to do with my day?”

Theodore glanced between his grandfather and me. “Why don’t you tour Buckey Manor?”

“Can I?”

Charles rubbed his chin. “That may be better once I’ve left—the household staff will be busy attending to me. I’ll ask them to show you around tomorrow.”

I scrunched up my nose. “You don’t need to do that.”

“I insist.” He reached across the table and patted my hand. “Theodore, take Chloe up to Buckley Manor at one p.m. tomorrow.”

“You don’t—”

Theodore held up a hand, slightly shaking his head. “You’re going to get the VIP treatment. Just roll with it.”

I clamped my lips together.

“I’ll take her.” He turned from me to his grandfather. “Now, how are you going to exploit me today?”

Charles grinned.

Well.

Better him than me.