by Unknown
“Some paperwork.”
“Do you have a stakeout tonight?”
She eyed her printed schedule. “No, but I do for the rest of the week.”
“We just closed the show for the day. It was a good one.”
Jessie shook her head. What was going on here? This back and forth between them…it seemed suspiciously like a conversation.
“Why are you calling me?” she asked.
He took a moment before answering her. “What do you mean why am I calling you? I wanted to talk to you. I thought about you all day.”
Despite the thrill his words gave her, they also set off an alarm.
“You can’t,” she exclaimed, sounding way more desperate than she should. “I mean, this is a fling. I thought you understood. We don’t call. We don’t socialize.”
“Fling, yes. Used for sex, no.” He sighed heavily into the phone, a sound full of frustration. “Look, Jessie. Have dinner with me. I have to eat. You have to eat. Let’s do it together.”
She couldn’t help herself; she smiled. Put like that, it did sound pretty cold-hearted. Her desperation faded. He wasn’t rejecting the fling. Wasn’t pushing for more. Not really. “Sure.”
“I’ll pick you up.”
Even though he couldn’t see her, she shook her head. Fling rules. “I’ll meet you there.”
COLE HUNG UP THE PHONE and leaned back in his chair. That call hadn’t happened at all the way he’d expected it to. He’d left a laughing, sated and sexy Jessie this morning, only to meet up with Fling-Rule Huell again this afternoon.
Hell, he hadn’t wanted to leave her. Judging from the greeting he’d gotten from her now, she was glad he’d finally left his own apartment.
So the woman wanted him for sex? She didn’t want him to call her. Take her out to dinner. Just sex and only sex.
He guessed he should be jumping for joy. Weren’t men supposed to want no-strings, no-commitment action between the sheets?
Maybe some part of him did. But not with Jessie Huell. Never with Jessie. The woman—the girl that she’d been—had saved his life.
One thing Cole knew was to never look back. He’d learned that lesson the hard way the year he’d turned seventeen. The year his dad died after one drunken rage too many and accidentally set the house on fire. The year his dad’s bitterness and anger boiled over and he almost killed Cole. He never looked back, but something drew him to that time now. Probably his rekindling of his relationship with Jessie. Or maybe it was just that it was time.
Rekindling wasn’t really the right word for it. The relationship between them had never been allowed to spark. He’d never allowed it. Growing up in Thrasher, Jessie was the only person in that town who looked at him with eyes not filled with contempt. Or even worse, pity. She didn’t see a grease monkey or the town trash, and he loved her for it.
He sighed and scrubbed his hands down his face. He would have been blind not to know that the fifteen-year-old Jessie was infatuated with him. He’d reveled in it, the daughter of the Chief of Police, Thrasher’s good girl and he could have had her anytime he wanted.
Then she passed him that note. SOMEDAY. With that one word she’d given him something. Hope, and the knowledge that Jessie Huell was special.
He sat up in his chair and fingered a stapled stack of papers on the corner of his desk. What if he’d never become off-limits because of his actions on that night? What if he’d never met his ex-wife?
Then he wouldn’t have his girls.
Cole tossed the papers aside. This was the reason he didn’t delve into what ifs. And didn’t question the past.
He had involved Jessie. He had turned away from her. He had married Amber.
Amber. Even after the wringer Cole’s wife had put him through, he felt guilty about the relief he’d gotten when she finally left. He’d kept the twins with him. And made plenty of mistakes there. But he never looked back—he didn’t have the time. His nights and days had been spent earning a living, trying to take care of his daughters, ensuring they had a better childhood than his. That he was a better dad than his. The way to do it had been to cut himself off from anything or anyone that took him away from that focus. And he’d never looked back.
But with Jessie, he’d changed. He cared about her. Why? What made her special to him? It was the first time he’d cared about anything other than his girls and his sister’s family in a long time. That felt good. His mind began to drift to the past. To when he and Jessie were growing up. Before he’d gotten distracted, made so many bad choices.
Could he lead two separate lives? Be a father who adored his daughters, who’d kill himself at work to make sure they had everything they deserved. But also be a man who snatched a few hours of pleasure with a woman he liked and whose sassy mouth drove him wild? After all the mistakes, all the hurt he’d caused…should he even try?
One thing was for sure, before he saw Fling-Rule Huell again, he needed to even the playing field.
Reaching for the phone, he punched in Penny’s extension. “Do you have the taping we did on rules for a fling? The one with Jessie Huell? I’d like to watch it again.”
COLE WAS ALREADY WAITING FOR HER in the restaurant when she arrived. The man had great taste. Sardella’s was one of her favorite Italian eateries. The plastered mural walls depicting rural settings and the brick fireplace made her yearn for a trip to the Italian countryside. Glass-encased white tapers illuminated each red-and-white-checked tablecloth. The perfect atmosfera Italia. He rose when he spotted her.
Jessie’s breath hitched in her chest. She’d seen this man naked, in jeans and a T-shirt and business casual. Every way he appeared made her hormones tap-dance.
She ambled to the table, taking her time so she could tell her hormones to settle down. Cole pulled out her chair.
Jessie looked up and smiled. He kissed her cheek, but his hand left the chair to cup her bottom. Reminding her just how well he knew her body.
And how well her body liked his knowing.
She pushed at his hand. “Someone will see you,” she said with a laugh.
“No, they won’t.”
Her bad boy. She felt off balance. Cole looked so cool and in control while she felt all crazy inside. She wanted him off balance, as well.
He sat across from her, not picking up the menu.
She leaned forward. “So, when did you plan to tell me you were one of the lottery group winners?”
His water glass stopped midway to his mouth. His eyes narrowed as he met her gaze. “At first, I thought you knew.”
That was one of the things she liked about Cole. He didn’t try to make up some excuse or appear surprised.
“I even joked about it at the table with everyone that first night we went out.”
“That’s what I thought it was—a joke. Lots of people make jokes about the lottery.”
Cole shrugged. “Then I figured I didn’t want to tell you.”
Okay, more honesty. She liked that, too. Their waiter came, poured them some red wine and took their orders.
Once he was out of earshot, she leaned toward Cole again. “Were you afraid I might only want you for your money?” she asked, her voice teasing, because clearly she only wanted him for his body.
But Cole didn’t smile. He didn’t even seem to see the humor in her joke. Somehow, she’d blundered, and stumbled upon his one major uncomfortable issue. But what exactly had she said? Something about wanting someone only for his money. A woman would be crazy not to want Cole for the man he was, with or without a fortune. As far as she knew, the only woman who didn’t want him was…his ex-wife. The beautiful Amber Crawford.
Cole and Jessie were supposed to be having a fling. There were no personal talks in a fling. Well, hell, for that matter, there weren’t supposed to be any phone calls or sleepovers, either. Since she’d broken all three rules, she might as well add long drawn-out conversations for the superfecta.
Besides, she’d been curious about the woman ever since
he’d brought Amber to their hometown. Jessie had been looking forward to that long Christmas break he’d have from college. She’d finally rounded up the nerve to ask him out. But all was lost when she saw how beautiful Amber was. How happy she seemed to make Cole. Resigned, Jessie placed Cole in that corner of her heart reserved for completely unattainable men. After hearing he’d had twins, she never sought information about him again, and thankfully, he had no reason to return to Thrasher so they never saw one another.
After taking a long sip of her wine, Jessie met his gaze. She dreaded her next question. Dreaded his answer. “Would the money bring her back?”
He nodded. “Without a doubt.”
“Do you want her back?”
“No.”
Cole didn’t elaborate. Jessie liked that. He’d just given her a simple answer. But his flat tone carried a lot of emotion. No way in hell did he want to be reacquainted with his ex-wife. A warmth that didn’t have anything to do with desire, or the ache she felt for Cole, settled within Jessie.
He reached across the table for her hand. “All I’m interested in right now is a hotshot private investigator.”
Jessie liked that even more.
“When we were growing up, I thought you were almost too good to be true. Sweet. Smart. You know, I wasn’t really as bad in Latin as I led you to believe.” He raised his wineglass. “Nunc est bibendum.”
Now is the time to drink.
Jessie laughed. She didn’t remember a lot of Latin, but the phrases that involved silliness, drinking or sex seemed to have stuck. “So how come you never made a move on me?” she asked.
His shoulders tensed and his gaze fell away. “Because I promised your father.”
13
“WHAT? You actually made a promise to my dad? Why would you do something like that?”
“He asked me to.” Cole’s voice was firm and uncompromising.
Jessie dropped her gaze and took a deep breath. She didn’t want him to see what she was feeling. She was so angry she doubted she’d be able to hide the emotion from her eyes. Outrage and hurt and a myriad of other feelings assaulted her. Her own father…
He’d known. Her father had known she was in love with Cole. She’d begged her dad to help him.
And then, all these years later, not a word. He’d had plenty of opportunities. The holidays she returned home for, the weekends he’d spent with her in Atlanta. If he’d told her she might have tried harder. Tried to convince Cole she was the person he was supposed to end up with. Not Amber.
Maybe that was what her father was afraid of. But why? No one could be prouder of the man Cole had become other than her dad.
Her throat tightened, but she would not lose it in the restaurant. No matter what. She reached for her water glass. No way would she be able to handle the wine right now.
“Why?” she asked after a moment. Glad her voice sounded strong.
Cole’s breath came out in a slow exhalation, as if he was gradually returning to the past. “Jessie, remember that time. Remember me at that time. I was so angry. I’d hit rock bottom, dropping out of school, stealing. Anything to get away from my dad, from Thrasher and what people thought of me there.”
“No one thought any worse of you because of your dad.”
Cole scoffed. “That’s what I’ve always liked about you, Jessie. You only see the good in people. And I used that. I used you as my lifeline when the last person you should ever have been involved with was me. What would have happened if my father hadn’t died? If he’d come after me when I was with you?”
Cole shuddered.
She sensed the anger he directed at himself. His frustration emanating from the rigid way he held his shoulders.
“I knew it wasn’t right, but I did it anyway. Your father knew what I was doing, too, and he asked me to give you a chance at a life that didn’t include the man I used to be.” Cole shrugged. “So I did.”
She opened her mouth, but Cole cut her off.
“Please let me tell you this. We never discussed that night, and maybe it’s a conversation we should have had a long time ago.”
She could easily walk away. She’d driven her own car, she wasn’t dependent on him for a ride home. But she knew she wouldn’t. Now was the time. She’d avoided this conversation that first night they’d reconnected. Had avoided this talk ever since. But now was the time.
“I have daughters. I understand now where your father was coming from. What had I grown up with? A father who used his son for a punching bag. No man wants to see his daughter with a man like that. Not until he can prove he won’t follow in his father’s footsteps.”
She hated Cole’s father, Michael Crawford, with everything she had inside her. Then and now. The man had nearly broken his son’s spirit. And when Cole had fought back, Michael had almost killed him.
“Tell me about that night. What happened before you found me at the library?” Her throat felt dry as she asked the question.
The waiter came, placed their Caesar salads before them, and Cole dropped her hand. “Pepper or parmesan cheese?”
“Just the cheese,” she said, trying to get the waiter to move along. She stole a glance in Cole’s direction.
His face was tight and his eyes dark. He appeared to be far, far away. How ironic that they’d be having this talk now, in the impersonal atmosphere of a restaurant.
Then she realized this might be the best place for it. Surrounded by other diners, the low ambient music, the air filled with the wonderful smells of good food…Somehow it took the intensity out of the reality of the past. Made the emotions not so fierce, the pain not so piercing.
Their waiter walked on, and Cole picked up his fork. Twirled the utensil in his fingers, but made no move to spear anything in his salad.
“My father was always a yeller. That’s why I never suggested we study at my house. But when Annie moved to Atlanta, things got bad.” He swallowed hard. “No one will ever lay a hand on one of my daughters.”
Jessie nodded. She understood. The vehemence in Cole’s voice when he spoke about no one hurting his children said it all. Every little girl should be so lucky to have a father like Cole.
How could Amber have driven him away?
“I was seventeen and determined to be a man. I’d had enough.”
Jessie wanted to touch him. To wrap her arm around Cole’s shoulder, but knew that wouldn’t be the right thing to do. She got the feeling he’d kept this story buried deep inside him. Had never discussed it with anyone, at least not in a long time. She wondered if even her father knew all the details.
She almost felt honored that he wanted to share it with her.
The fork clanged as it hit his salad plate. He left it there and raised his gaze. Such agony lay in the hazel depths of his eyes. Her stomach clenched. The pain surrounding him almost made her hurt physically.
“I shoved him. Hard. It felt good. I told him if he ever laid a hand on me again, he’d regret it.”
She’d known Cole’s childhood was bad, that his dad took out a lot on him, it had been hard for her to comprehend at the time. She’d grown up surrounded by love. A mother and a father who would do anything for her. Jessie vowed she’d visit them in Thrasher her next free weekend. Since starting her firm, her trips had trickled to almost nothing, and she missed them.
“I went to work at the garage, but when I got back he came after me. You saw me. I was a mess.” A humorless smile touched his lips.
He’d never shown up for their Latin session. Feeling dejected, she’d started walking home. He’d pulled up beside her in an unknown car as she crossed in front of the library.
She’d cried out when she saw his face. A broken jaw. Eye socket. Nose. Then she’d cried in earnest after she climbed into the car beside him and tried to clean the blood from him as best she could. He’d asked for money. That’s all he’d wanted. Some money, the car and to get away.
“No, Cole. You can’t run. If you run, you’ll never be able to stop
running.” How she knew the truth of that at age fifteen, she’d never understand, but Cole would not be the man he was today if he’d left town that night.
He’d stolen a car from the garage where he worked. Sideswiped another as he tried to get out of town.
A shudder had run through his slight frame. The boy in him had wanted to take off and hide. She could see that the man he was becoming knew she was right. She’d begged him to go to her dad.
Jessie never knew what her sheriff father had said to Cole, but after he was discharged from the hospital, he went away for months. He came back shortly before his senior year, a different person. While no scars marked his body, he’d changed. Cole had worked hard during the day, and even harder at night, to pay for the two cars he’d damaged. He’d scored high on his SAT, enough to go to college on a scholarship.
Everyone in town knew of the beatings Cole’s father gave him. Of Micheal Crawford’s drunken rampage that resulted in his death. Of Cole’s night in jail, but Cole kept his head high.
“Do you ever think of your father?”
Cole shook his head. “Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like if he’d made it out of the house before the roof collapsed. Maybe prison would have straightened him and he’d have gotten his life on track.”
She nodded, but couldn’t fathom why he’d want good things for the man. But then, she imagined it was hard to stop loving a parent. “You remember that phrase I wrote one time at the diner?”
He nodded. “Yes. ‘Someday.’ Believe me when I tell you, sometimes that’s all I had.”
They finished their meal in quiet conversation. No more talk about the past. Her chicken Vesuvio had been cooked to perfection, and while at first she thought it doubtful she’d enjoy her meal, a relief that they’d finally cleared the air between them settled over their table. They didn’t have dessert or even coffee. Instead, Cole took her hand and walked her to her car.
She’d placed her hand in his before. Numerous times, as he led her into the shower or helped her to stand. But this touch was different. Intimate. Intimate because of the secrets Cole had shared. At her car, he cupped her cheeks. His gaze scanned her face, then he kissed her. A light brush of his mouth along her lips. Her cheeks. Her eyes.
