Head Over Heels

Chapter 9

“Sisters. Love ’em or fight ’em, but no matter

how hard you try, you can’t ignore ’em.”

Chloe Traeger

Frustrated and mad at herself, Chloe rode the Vespa hard. Okay, so there was no riding any Vespa hard, and not for the first time, she wished she could afford a Duc. Or a Harley. Something fast and bad.

She was feeling the extreme need for both.

In substitution, food would work. She’d stop for breakfast, but she didn’t have any money on her. Note to self- next time you leave in a diva fit, bring money. Thankfully, it was warmer than it’d been in weeks, which was good, since along with her wallet, she’d also forgotten a jacket.

Okay, so buying food was out. Sex. Sex would be lovely. She didn’t need money or a jacket to jump someone’s bones. Sawyer’s very fine bones…

But he’d laid low for days. He’d given her that smoking-hot kiss-kisses-that had melted all resolve and reason, and then nothing. Maybe he’d simply had better sense than she. After all, he was a stable fixture around town. People had respect for him. Getting mixed up with her would undoubtedly put a check mark in his demerit column.

Whatever. She was better off on her own.

Always had been.

She sucked in a calming breath, annoyed with the jitter in her belly. Residual anger. No one could disappoint her quite like the sisters that she hadn’t meant to let into her heart. If she’d been thinking straight, she’d have told them about the offer that she’d had two weeks ago in San Diego. The owner of the spa at a luxurious boutique hotel there had asked Chloe to take a permanent space in her salon, where Chloe could work and sell her products on consignment. What would Tara and Maddie think of that? A business acquaintance had more faith in her than they had.

But she hadn’t told them, hadn’t told anyone, because a little part of her wanted to have a reason to stay here in Lucky Harbor. To be needed here…

Dammit. She drew as deep a breath as she could and rode. She rode between mountains smothered in forests so thick it was like being swallowed up by a green comforting throw. Above her, the sky was a rare brilliant blue, streaked with a few white, puffy clouds. About fifteen miles out of Lucky Harbor, on a narrow two-lane road that she wasn’t exactly sure of the name of, she caught sight of a sign for Yellow Ridge, and then another for some mud springs. She’d heard about the mud springs from Lucille, who knew everything about every square inch of the entire county. Years ago, beavers had created a meadow when they’d chewed their way through the surrounding forest and inadvertently flooded it. Early settlers had then discovered it and come to bathe nude in the mud for its healing effects.

Intrigued, Chloe turned off the highway, riding through a canyon lush with giant moss-draped trees. A mile or so up the road, she parked in the small clearing, in front of the trailhead to the mud springs. She pulled out her phone to text her sisters that she was alive, but she couldn’t send it because she had no cell service.

This didn’t stop her. It was a fairly easy climb, which was a good thing. Not anxious to have an asthma attack out here all alone, she didn’t push herself. The trail was wet, meaning there was no pesky dust rising as she walked, which helped. The trail branched off several times with no rhyme or reason, or further sign. Staying to the right so that she wouldn’t get lost going back, Chloe took it all in. The way was lined with wildflowers and offered up spectacular views of the peaks towering over her. Awe-inspiring, and very effective at clearing her head.

Twenty minutes in, the forest suddenly opened up, and she stood in the small meadow Lucille had told her about, filled with pockets of the promised mud springs.

She sure could use some healing effects right about now, she thought, slipping out of her shoes and socks. And hey, this was research. If the mud was good stuff, well, then she owed it to her clients to check it out before incorporating it into a product. Stepping to the edge, she dipped a toe into the mud.

It was warm.

And she wanted in. Taking a careful look around, she realized just how alone she was. “Crazy,” she said out loud. “This is crazy.” But she had to admit, she’d done far crazier. Her knit top was long, well past her butt so she stripped out of her jeans and told herself she was still decent if anyone happened upon her. Then she stepped into the mud up to her shins, and it oozed between her toes, toasty and oddly comforting. Wading in a little farther, she sighed in pleasure. The temperature of the mud gliding up her legs was so incredibly soothing that she went out even more, up to her thighs now.

All around her, the woods pulsed with life. Birds, insects, leaves dancing on the light breeze, and she felt… alive. If only she could bottle this feeling, with the sun on her face, the forbidden sense of being outside in her shirt and panties, with the mud soothing her skin in a way she hadn’t expected, she’d be a millionaire.

She bet her sisters would take notice then…

She wished she was better prepared, because she would’ve liked to strip down even more and treat herself to a good soak. But she didn’t have a towel or water to wash off with afterward, so she turned back to shore and…

Her foot slipped.

Chloe did a perfect imitation of a cat scrambling for purchase on linoleum, but it was no good. A second later, she was on her butt. She gasped but didn’t bother to scramble up. It was too late now; she was in up to her belly button. Never one to waste an opportunity, she took another look around, then carefully pulled off her half-muddy shirt and tossed it to the shore to join her jeans. Relaxing, she soaked in her bra and panties beneath the wide- open sky.

As the mud worked its magic, she finally admitted to herself that what she’d felt earlier was more hurt than anger. She’d honestly tried to fit in, to pick up the slack around the B &B. And just because her mother’s death and going into business with her sisters had forced her life into a one-eighty, it didn’t mean she could ignore her other responsibilities. Dammit, she’d been serious about the skincare line she’d been working on, and her client list hadn’t been developed overnight. Didn’t that alone prove she’d grown up some?

But with some distance-and warm mud-she could admit to herself that she understood her sisters’ concern. Renovating the sunroom would cost time and money. And yes, they were right, Chloe’s track record was spotty. But there had to be a compromise. She could promise to commit to a certain number of days a week where she’d stay in town, for instance. And they could promise to believe her. With a resigned sigh, she rose and walked out of the mud.

She looked around, then with a philosophical shrug, she stripped out of her bra and panties, rubbed the excess mud off the best she could, and put her clothes on.

Commando.

Then, with the mud drying on her skin, she moved gingerly back down the trail, telling herself she was merely amplifying the healing affects by keeping the mud on so long. Hell, she’d probably look like a movie star after this. By the time she got to her Vespa, she’d talked herself into believing it. Hard to do when she felt like she’d been wrapped in concrete, but she managed.

That’s when she discovered problem number two. Her Vespa wouldn’t start. Okay, this was more than a minor setback. With no cell service, she had little choice. She walked down the road to the highway. Unfortunately, by the time she got there, her lungs had had enough. The two long walks had tightened her chest uncomfortably. Her inhaler helped with that, but she still didn’t have cell service. She was going to have to flag someone down off the highway while looking like a swamp thing.

So much for being a grown-up.

In less than five minutes, a shiny black truck pulled off to the side of the road. Todd’s baby.

“Hey, cutie,” Todd said with his good-old-boy smile as he leaned over and opened the passenger door. He wore