Chloe

Dawn light bled in through the heavy wool curtains, the red and white Tartan pattern giving everything a rustic glow. At first Chloe forgot where she was, but as she awoke to the warmth of the muscled body next to hers, her mind snapped back into focus.

She was nestled beneath a blanket on her living room couch, her body curled alongside Ethan’s in a way that suggested they’d been much more intimate than they had. Her head rested on his chest, his arm draped over her back. For a moment she couldn’t tear herself away. She drank in his delicious boy smell and sank into the comfortable rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek.

The feeling of contentment that washed over Chloe evaporated as soon as she heard the stairs creak. Her head snapped up, the sudden movement jerking Ethan awake.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

“We fell asleep,” she whisper-hissed as she untangled herself from him.

Ethan sat up and stretched, his dark hair sticking out every which way. Sleep still clung to his eyes. His drowsiness only made him more adorable to Chloe but she couldn't think about that now. Any second her parents would be in the living room and she needed to come up with a good excuse for why she was sleeping on the couch with a half-dressed boy.

They hadn't done anything wrong but it certainly didn't look that way with Ethan’s shirt on the floor and Chloe pulling on her bathrobe. They had the fire turned up so high during the movie that they'd had to shed some of their layers. Then they must've fallen asleep. The last thing Chloe remembered was holding Ethan's hand . . . and his mother!

Everything he’d shared with her came crashing back, making Chloe halt her frantic hustling as Ethan’s heartbreaking story filled her with a heaviness she knew would never leave. How did he carry that around every day?

She wanted to say something to him, tell him she was glad he’d opened up to her and that she’d be there for him, but the sound of a throat clearing made her pause.

Margot’s cheery voice greeted them. “Well, good morning. What's going on here?”

“Nothing,” Chloe said, snatching Ethan’s shirt from the floor and handing it to him.

He gave her a wry smile and pulled the shirt on. It only made his sleep stiff hair wilder and somehow sexier.

Owen stopped short when he came into the living room behind Margot. “Bro, nice bed head!”

“Did you guys sleep out here?” Margot asked, suspicion heavy in her voice. “Together?”

“We were just watching a movie,” Chloe said, defensively.

Owen stiffened as his eyes met Ethan’s. Chloe noticed the look they shared. It was the same one from the dinner table the first night. Owen knew exactly what movie they’d been watching.

So why hadn’t he been there watching it alongside his brother?

A fierce protectiveness flared up in Chloe. Up until that moment she thought she liked Owen. He seemed like the kinder, more affectionate brother, but now that Chloe understood the situation she wasn’t so sure. How could Owen let his brother suffer alone?

There was no way he didn’t know what Ethan was going through. They were brothers for God’s sake! If they were anything like Chloe and Margot they’d have to feel each other’s pain. Chloe knew when Margot was upset just by walking into a room.

Chloe had always known she and her sister had a close relationship. She often thought of them like bookends—one virtually useless without the other.

That’s partly why the past few months had been so difficult for Chloe. Without her sister’s support she felt herself slipping into uncertainty. So how could Owen not know his brother needed him? And what about Owen? Surely the holidays were taking a toll on him as well?

Chloe watched Margot who was watching the silent exchange between the brothers. Chloe suddenly wondered just how much Margot knew about her boyfriend’s past.

Chloe glanced at the clock. It wasn’t even seven. “Why are you up so early?”

“Snowmobiling, remember?”

“Oh. Right.” She’d completely forgot.

“I’m going to go put the coffee on,” Margot said, giving Chloe a wary look as she walked by.

“Snowmobiling?” Ethan asked.

“Yeah, Brady invited us,” Owen added as he followed Margot into the kitchen, leaving Ethan with his own guarded glance.

When Chloe looked back at Ethan, he was staring at her. The intensity of his gaze made her self-conscious. She probably looked awful after a night on the couch, not to mention her breath didn’t smell like roses. She took a step back but Ethan didn’t seem to understand her hesitation. He reached for her, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. It had fallen out of her bun and was cascading down her back like a static-y, brown waterfall.

Chloe had never really liked wearing her hair down. She didn’t take the time necessary to tame her unruly waves. But the way Ethan ran his fingers over the loose strands still in his hand made it seem like he was holding threads of magic.

“Chloe,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep. “Last night . . .” he ran his hand down her arm, leaving shivers in its wake until he linked his fingers with hers. “Thank you.”

Ethan rubbed his thumb ever so slightly over the back of Chloe’s hand erasing the words she’d been about to say. She couldn’t think. Not with the feel of his hand on hers or the warmth in his words. She’d never known two little words could hold so much hope, but she felt it blossom in her chest. ‘Thank you.’ She wanted to say it back to him. She wanted to say ‘Thank you for sharing your heart with me. I’ll protect it. I promise.’

But before she could say anything the doorbell rang and Darcy came bolting down the stairs like a ferocious bolt of lightning.

Brady! Dammit! He knew better than to ring the obnoxious, Jingle Bells, doorbell.

“Coming!” Chloe called trying to grab Darcy, but Brady opened the door before she could catch the dog.

Brady knew better than to do that, too. He’d been to Chloe’s house a million times. He knew not to open the door until the furry Houdini was leashed. In a flash, Darcy was past Brady, bounding through the snow.

“Grab him!” Chloe shouted.

Brady

“Oh no!” Margot yelled, running to the door. “Darcy got out?”

“What’s the problem?” Owen was asking.

“He’ll run onto the road,” Chloe yelled tugging her boots on over her pajama pants. “Why did you open the door?” she muttered at Brady.

“I thought you said, ‘come in’.”

“I said, ‘coming’!”

“Oh,” Brady frowned. “Well, don’t worry. I’ll get him, Clo.”

“He won’t come to you,” she grumbled reaching for her coat.

“Trust me,” he said, pulling the leash from her hands. “I’ve got this.” Then he planted a kiss on top of her wild hair and jogged back out the open door.

Brady patted his pocket, making sure the bacon was still there. It was his secret weapon. His plan to win Chloe back was working perfectly. Brady knew she would be super impressed if he caught Darcy. That dog meant the world to her and they’d all spent many a night chasing the crazy furball through the woods. He might be tiny but he ran like he was powered by rocket fuel. No one had ever been able to catch him once he escaped. He ran until he had his fill and then he only came to Chloe. But Brady knew Darcy would do anything for bacon.

He smiled to himself as he followed the little dog’s tracks. “Darcy,” he called. “Come here, buddy. I’ve got something for you.”

In no time he’d return a hero and Chloe would be eating out of the palm of his hand, just like Darcy would be any minute.