And even more wrong for Cole—
“Go on ahead to the car,” he said to the kids. “I’ll catch up in a second.”
—not to mention those two.
Cole dropped her hand when they reached her car, and she immediately missed his touch. His warmth. Not to mention a strength she now realized had always been part of who he was, even if buried under a gazillion layers of dorkiness and Star Wars T-shirts.
Smiling, she turned around, swallowing at the intense expression on his face in the graying light. Funny to think they’d been nearly the same height until their sophomore year of high school.
“Well,” she said. “Thanks again.”
“No problem.”
She could tell he wanted to kiss her. Thank goodness for the kids, then, because, boy-howdy, did she want to kiss him back. Neediness was such a bitch—
Pop’s ringtone salsa’d from her purse. Holding up a finger to stop Cole from leaving, she dug it out and answered.
“What’s up?”
“You ready for this? I sold the house.”
“What? When?”
“About ten minutes ago.”
“But...wait. How? The first open house isn’t even until Sunday...”
A minute later, still staring stupidly at her phone, her father’s news buzzed incoherently inside her brain.
“Bree? Is everything okay?”
“Pop sold the house,” she said, the words rushing out. “Cash offer. Young couple. They want...they want to take possession ASAP. In other words...” Her throat clogged. “In a week I’m homeless—”
Too late, she realized what she’d walked right into.
“And maybe now,” he said quietly, “would be a good time to tell me the whole truth. About why you’re here. Because this isn’t only about your emotional recuperation, is it?”
Her mouth pulled tight. “I moved in with Chad when we got engaged, more than a year ago. Since he was paying for the apartment—and everything else—I insisted on footing most of the bill for the wedding. A lot of the deposits weren’t refundable. So when we broke up...” She shrugged. “I still have some savings, but not enough for the up-front fees on a new place, since I’d let mine go. Obviously.”
Cole’s brow knotted. “And he didn’t offer to reimburse you?”
“Yeah, well....seems Chad was having a few cash-flow problems himself.”
“Which you didn’t know.”
“Nope.”
His gaze was so intense she shivered. “You could have asked me for the money.”
Not one word about how imprudent she’d been. How careless and trusting and naive. Her eyes burned. “My problem to solve, Cole. No one else’s. Especially not yours.”
He shook his head, muttering something she was just as glad she couldn’t make out. “Fine. But you’re not homeless—”
From twenty feet away, Wes called to him, asking what was going on.
Good question.
“—because the guest suite over the garage? It’s yours.”
“What? Cole, no, I couldn’t, I’ll bunk with...”
Yeah. Who? And where? On Matt’s lumpy sofa? With Tyler and Laurel, who were still in honeymoon phase?
She looked up at Cole, whose smile even in the dark took her heart rate to the next level. Dammit.
“But the kids—”
“Will deal. Go home. We’ll talk later.”
Somehow, she got behind the wheel—nothing like shaking knees to make that little maneuver awkward as hell—jumping a little when Cole tapped his palm on the car’s hood and walked away.
She told herself she was only staring at his butt as it—and he—retreated, but she knew she was lying. Sighing, she started the car, drove out of the lot, thinking anytime the universe wanted to stop messing with her, she’d be good.
* * *
“What the heck is wrong with you?”
About to throw the ball for the dogs for the eight millionth time, Wesley flinched at the sound of his sister’s voice. Obviously, the girl who used to be scared of basically everything was gone. He half wished she’d come back.
Another change, he thought, throwing the tennis ball so hard it bounced off the back wall, making all three dogs trip over each other trying to get it. Pretty much the way his brain felt these days.
“Cripes, Brooke, keep your voice down. Dad’s got the windows open up there.” He jerked his head toward the bedroom over the garage, where Dad was cleaning or whatever. For Sabrina.
“He’s vacuuming, he can’t hear anything.” His sister crossed her arms over her stomach. “Is this about Sabrina coming to stay here?”
Moe growled as Wes tugged the slobbery ball out of the dog’s mouth, galloping off with his brothers when it sailed across the yard again. “Maybe.”
“You are such an idiot.”
Wes turned on her. “I’m the idiot? She’s not going to be here forever, Brooke. And even if she was...” His throat going all tight, he squatted to wrestle the ball away from Curly this time.
“I know what she said. I also know...” His sister glanced up at the open window, then lowered her voice. “I know Dad likes her. A lot. And why wouldn’t he? She’s like the coolest person ever. So maybe he can change her mind?” At his eye roll, she said, “Oh, come on, Wes—you heard them, at the diner. The way they joke with each other and stuff. It was fun. And it felt good. And you can’t tell me it didn’t. So, wouldn’t it be great, if they got together—”
“For heaven’s sake, Brooke—grow up.”
It was a horrible thing to say, and he knew it. However, instead of telling him to stop treating her like a baby, like usual, all she did was glare at him for a second before she spun around and stomped back inside. Leaving Wes feeling even angrier than before. Mostly because Brooke was right. About all of it.
Including the part about Sabrina being cool.
And that scared him so much it hurt to breathe.
Chapter Eleven
“There’s no one in New York you could stay with?”
It was the first thing Matt had said since leaving Pop’s house. Making the five-block drive the longest trip, ever.
“My assistant offered, but (a) she’s twenty-two, and (b) she lives in a studio. Way out near JFK. Takes less time to get from here to Thirty-Fourth Street than from her place.”
Pulling into Cole’s driveway, Matt glowered at the house. As if he was taking her to prison. Or a psychiatric facility. And he didn’t know the half of it. And, God willing, never would. Granted, they were talking nearly twenty years ago, but some things you don’t want your überprotective brother to know.
“It’s perfectly safe, Matty. Especially with the kids there—”
“What makes you think I’m worried about you, numbskull? Cole’s the one with the problem here. Not you—”
Again. Ignorance was bliss.
“—because far as I can tell? The dude’s as crazy about you as ever. So watch it, okay?”
“You do remember he dumped me, right?”
“And whatever the reason was for that? I’m guessing he got over it.” He paused. “I’m also guessing you did.”
“Maybe because, I don’t know—that was a million years ago? However, have no fear, big guy. Since I’m not about to jump into another relationship.”
“And I’m supposed to believe that?”
Her face heated. Since her history wasn’t exactly a secret. “Not this time, okay? And, yeah, I know I’ve said that before, but...” Her hand fisted around her purse straps. “I’m not going to do anything stupid. Especially since there’s kids involved. And anyway, Cole isn’t looking for anything, either. No matter what you think you see.”
Or, more to the point, what she saw. Felt.
Knew.
Her brother touched her knee. “Just be careful, okay? The two of you, you’re like nitro and glycerin right now. Put you together and...” He made a one-handed exploding gesture, complete with sound effect.
Rolling her eyes, Sabrina got out of the car and opened the back door. “And you, brother dear,” she said, grabbing her suitcase and carry-on, then her purse and tote bag, “have been watching way too much reality TV.” She slammed shut the door and yanked up the suitcase’s handle, then leaned over beside the open passenger-side window. “But thanks for caring, okay?”
Shaking his head, her brother backed out of the drive as Cole came through the front door—barefoot, in shorts and a T-shirt—meeting her halfway to take the suitcase and carry-on from her. He looked a little damp, as if he’d been working out, maybe. T-shirt clinging to pecs, hair curlier than usual. And she thought, Safe? Like hell.
“Matt giving you a hard time?”
“It’s what he does,” she muttered as she followed Cole inside, and three very excited doggies rushed her, smushing their little flat noses into her calves. She bent over to give them all some loving, thinking, Now what?
“Kids are at my sister’s,” Cole said in an odd voice, as though he wasn’t quite sure what came next, either. “Um...the bed’s made up in the guest suite, there’s clean towels in the bath. It’s pretty small, though.”
“That’s okay, so am I,” she said, and he smiled.
“I thought maybe pizza for dinner?” He paused. “Homemade.”
“Dude. Impressive.”
He chuckled. “How’s your dad doing?”
“Pretty well, surprisingly, considering how fast it happened. But to tell you the truth, he seems more at peace than I’ve seen him in a long time. Going with the flow. Which we all know is not his strong suit. And his apartment’s really nice. One of the larger units, gorgeous view of the grounds. And he can take his meals in the dining room or cook his own, a-and...”
Damn it. She was not going to cry. Okay, she was. But she certainly wasn’t going to admit how good it felt to find herself in Cole’s arms, breathing in his scent, feeling his warmth. His warmth, his scent, his arms...
He steered her toward the living room’s dusty blue-velvet sofa, all three dogs milling around their feet, worried. One jumped into her lap when they sat; she pulled the sturdy little pooch against her stomach as Cole did the same to her.
“It’s c-crazy...I haven’t lived in that house in years. And yet, when I walked away today and realized I’d never see inside again, never see my room, or the backyard, or any of it...”
With that, the tears came. Not an ugly cry—thank God—but a slow, steady release of emotion she could no longer restrain. Or deny.
Cole turned and handed her the tissue box. She yanked one out, clutching it after she blew, sending the startled dog scrambling off her lap. “I remember how scared I was, when Matt and I first arrived. How these two people we’d never seen before immediately made us feel like we belonged. How loud and crazy it could get, with all the kids and dogs...” She looked at Cole. “And then you guys. You and Kelly, I mean... I’m sorry,” she said on a shaky breath. “I’m not making a whole lot of sense...”
“It was your home, honey,” Cole murmured, gently brushing her hair off her temple. “Your childhood. So you’re allowed to grieve, yo.”
She gave a wobbly laugh, then sighed. “I can’t even imagine what Pop is going through right now.”
“Wanna invite him for dinner? The kids would love it.”
“That’s sweet, but Matt and Kelly already have that covered. For tonight, anyway. But thanks.” Blowing her nose again, she stood, tugging down her top. “Well. Guess I should see about making my nest. And I’m sure you have things to do. I don’t want to disrupt your alone time. Which must be more precious to you than ever, with the kids—”
“Who I miss like crazy when they’re not around,” he said with a soft smile as he got to his feet, as well. “Because they’re part of my bubble.” His eyes darkened. “Same as you were, when we were kids. And you know what? Nothing’s changed on that score—”
The kids burst through the front door, arguing at the top of their lungs about something or other. Spotting Sabrina, Brooke squealed and ran over to give her a hug. Wes, however, only gave her a passing glance before heading down the hall.
“What do you want on your pizza?” Cole called after him.
“Do whatever you want,” the boy lobbed back, followed by his door slamming shut.
Sabrina guessed they weren’t talking about pizza anymore.
* * *
Cole didn’t wait for Wes to acknowledge his rap on the kid’s door before pushing it open, earning him a thunderous look and an affronted, “What the heck, Dad? You’re not supposed to come in unless I say it’s okay!”
Cole slipped his hands into his pants pockets. “Why not?”
Wes’s forehead knotted. “Because it’s rude?”
“So let me get this straight—it’s not okay for me to open your door without your permission, but it is for you to blow off our guest. Is that how it goes?”
The rims of the kid’s ears turned bright red. One of many traits he’d inherited from Cole. Poor guy.
“I’m—”
“Save it,” Cole said. “And, no, I’m not going to ask you to apologize—”
Dark brows crashed together. “You’re...not?”
“No. Because an insincere apology would be even worse.” Now the blush flooded the boy’s cheeks. “Not to mention Sabrina would see straight through it. But let’s get something straight, right now—I get that you’re still upset about what happened with your mom. That everything already feels unsettled without bringing somebody else into the house. So I’m not saying your feelings are entirely unjustified. But taking those feelings out on that somebody else—a somebody else who was not only my best friend when we were kids, but who’s going through some pretty crappy times of her own right now—is not justified. Ever. You don’t have to like her. You don’t even have to like that she’s here. But you will be polite and treat Sabrina with the same respect you’d want for yourself. Is that clear?”
Nostrils flared, Wes looked away, breathing heavily. But after a moment, he nodded. Good enough.
Because God knew Cole couldn’t fix much in this world—his world, at least—but no way was his own kid going to act like a jerk.
“Okay, then. I’ll let you know when dinner’s ready. And, yes, I expect you to join us. No holing up in here. Got it?”
“How long is she staying?”
“As long as she needs to,” Cole said quietly, then left the room, not bothering to shut the door behind him.
The soft laughter coming from the kitchen was such a stark contrast to the tension and misery in his son’s room, it took Cole a moment to readjust, like coming out into the light from a cave. Bree and his daughter had already assembled two pizzas, one cheese and one with apparently everything they could find in the fridge. Smiling, Sabrina looked up when he came in, even as questions shimmered in those deep, dark eyes. Brooke’s phone rang; after she left to take the call, Bree whispered, “He okay?” her genuine concern twisting Cole up inside.
“I’m sure he doesn’t think so.” He plucked several more slices of pepperoni out of the package, added them to the pie. “We like a freakish amount of pepperoni.”
“Yeah? Me, too.” Then Bree sighed. “Listen, if my being here is going to cause that much turmoil, there’s always Matt’s sofa—”
“For Wes, maybe. Not you.”
Her laugh was soft. But sad, Cole thought. Couldn’t blame her for that.
“Are you okay?”
“Not really, no,” she sighed out. “I will be, of course. And I’m grateful for...this. Truly. But...” Shaking her
head, she placed the last few black olive slices on the pizza, then crossed her arms, frowning at it.
“Not how you saw your life at this point?”
“I at least thought I’d have my own home by now.” A short laugh pushed from her chest. “Someplace I could paint the walls whatever the hell color I wanted.”
“Even hot pink?”
She grinned. “Maybe.”
Cole slipped the pizzas in the oven, then turned back around, leaning his butt against the counter edge. “In New York, I take it?”
“You bet. Probably not Manhattan, though. Too expensive. But Brooklyn, maybe.” Her smile softened. “A brownstone.”
He smiled back. “On a tree-lined street?”
“What else?”
Wes suddenly appeared outside the kitchen, right behind Bree, his hands shoved in his pockets. “Hey, buddy,” he said as she twisted to face the boy. “What’s up?”
Wes’s gaze darted from Cole to Bree, then back to Cole. “Dinner ready yet?”
“Ten minutes.”
The boy nodded, then hauled in a breath big enough to inflate a Macy’s Parade balloon before looking back at Bree. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier, Sabrina. And I’m not just saying that, I mean it. Because Dad said you’d know if I was faking it.”
Cole glanced over, catching Bree’s desperate attempt to keep a straight face, but the expression in her eyes...oh, man.
“Your dad speaks the truth,” she said, humor glinting in those eyes. Humor, and patience, and such deep, sweet understanding it was everything Cole could do not to lay one on her right there. Then she uncrossed her arms, reaching out to gently squeeze Wes’s shoulder. “But it’s okay, honey. No hard feelings.” Then she crossed her arms again, giving him a soft smile. “So. We’re okay?”
“Yeah, I guess,” Wes said with a glance at Cole.
Maybe not wholesale acceptance, exactly, but a start. And he’d take it. Because Cole knew there was no winning over Bree until Bree won over his kids.
He could only pray that happened before the clock ran out.
Meant-to-Be Mom Page 17
