5
Davis froze, puked-on shirt in hand, his gaze landing on the founder of Building for Hope.
Chloe.
When she’d entered the tent, she’d been carrying a large bag in each arm, but when she saw Davis, shirtless, she lost her grip. She tried to prevent them from falling, but both bags slipped from her arms. Several packages of meat landed on the floor with a dull thud, and dozens of the round purple fruit rolled over the floor as they escaped. Chloe’s gaze lingered on Davis’s bare chest before she tore her gaze away and took in the mess that surrounded them.
Davis snatched a clean shirt from inside his bag—it didn’t matter which one at this point—and pulled it over his head so fast that one arm got stuck. He noticed Chloe watching him again, his own shock mirrored in her expression.
He qu
