by Zoe York
Part VI
Give Me Back My Man
by Sidney Bristol
About This Book
Scarlett Lively lives for love. Helping her cousins establish their historic barn as a wedding venue and designing magical ceremonies has finally given her life purpose. But her heart is still off-limits. At least until she falls for the dreamiest man she's ever seen. The chemistry is off the charts and his toe-curling kisses leave her wanting more. There's just one problem. He's a client.
* * *
Jilted groom Cole Odell moved his whole life to the small, Texas town of Ransom for a bride who left him high and dry. He's used to being alone and history has taught him small towns aren't kind to men with sordid pasts. All he wants is to get by quietly until he can move on from this chapter, but Scarlett stirs a desire in him he can't ignore. He wants to keep her smiling and the bad memories at bay, but he knows he's not the man for her. Even if he wants to be.
* * *
Two people afraid to open up find solace in each other's arms. If they have the courage to make the leap, they might just find the future they've both been searching for.
Chapter 1
Cole Odell rode his bicycle’s momentum through the intersection and craned his neck to look up the hill.
“Christ,” he muttered.
If this wasn’t a metaphor for his life, he didn’t know what it was.
He took a foot off a pedal as the bike came to a stop and balanced himself while studying the brown barn that sat on the highest point for miles around.
This was where he was scheduled to get married in five weeks and five days.
Except he was missing the other half of the equation.
His bride.
Cole swung his leg off the bike, dragged his arm across his brow and began walking.
The sting was gone as was the anger. He’d burned through all of that during the last few weeks since he came home to nothing but a note that said, I’m sorry, weighted down with her key to the apartment. She could have kept the key if she’d have left his dog.
This wasn’t the first time he’d had to reinvent his life. His hands had been tied these last few weeks, his decisions made, but finally—finally—he could take his life back. He still didn’t know where things had gone wrong or why his fiancé had left, but one thing he’d realized over the last few weeks was that he didn’t miss her.
Cole tipped his chin up, the warm breeze drying some of the sweat.
At long last he reached the top of the hill and turned into the gravel drive that led to The Love Barn parking lot. The structure was an ancient two-story barn, but someone had put a lot of TLC into it. Other than the barn, two houses sat a short distance away and off a separate driveway. The only vehicle was a single Jeep Wrangler.
He hoped someone was around and that he hadn’t pedaled all this way for nothing.
A little stone path led away from the gravel to a side door. Two flowerpots stood guard at the door, their blooms wilting a bit. A white sign over the door read Barn Office.
Cole took a deep breath and laid his bike in the grass.
The worst they could do was say no.
He wiped his hands on his shorts and approached the door. The interior was dark. His heart fell. He’d come all the way out to the city limit sign to start collecting the building blocks of his life, and there wasn’t anyone around. He cupped his hands around his face and peered inside at the little office.
Calling first would have been smart, but he’d wanted to do this in person.
“Great,” he muttered and turned toward the two houses.
“Stop it!” A woman cried out. “No. I said stop it.”
Cole whirled toward the houses. There was something about the notes that voice that set off warning bells.
“No,” the woman wailed.
He sprinted toward the sound. His heart throbbed in his throat and his pulse pounded. He blew past the first house, the sound of her voice coming from farther away.
The second house’s windows were open and the front door stood ajar.
Cole grabbed the banister and vaulted onto the porch, peering inside but saw no one.
Grunting came from around the corner.
He crossed the porch and froze.
“I—hate—you.” A woman stood in the middle of what he assumed was meant to be a garden. She wore shorts so short he wasn’t sure if they were outerwear or not with a tank top. Her red hair was piled on top of her head, tendrils flying around her face.
She bent, scooping up handfuls of soggy earth and hurled them at a pig. The creature had to easily weigh a hundred pounds and was currently wallowing across the neat rows of the garden. The mud splattered on the animal whose tail did a quick wag.
Cole braced his hands on the railing, his knees shaking from the surge of adrenaline. He choked out a laugh at the tableau below him. When he’d heard her, his mind had gone to one place. One terrible conclusion. The reality, while clearly damaging, was not what he’d assumed.
“Why?” The woman groaned and tilted her face up. Mud covered her feet, ankles and calves. It was streaked down her arms and clothes. She’d clearly been doing battle with the creature and losing.
“Can I help?” Cole vaulted off the side of the porch and dropped to the ground.
The woman shrieked and went down in the mud, right next to her garden destroying interloper.
Crap.
Cole hadn’t meant to startle her. He picked his way through the mud, giving the pig a wide berth though the creature seemed to have found the perfect spot and settled in. He crouched in the wet earth next to the woman. Up close and under the mud she was pretty, with an expressive face, a slightly upturned nose and rich, chestnut hair. It was her eyes that concerned him with the iris all blown out, eating up the golden brown ring and turning it black.
She had beautiful eyes. Not quite brown, not quite anything else. Sort of a light, golden brown. She stared up at him, a bit of mud sliding down her cheek. His gut tightened for a whole new reason. The hair on his arms practically stood up and all he could do was stare at her. He had this urge to get closer, touch her, but he didn’t know her.
What the hell?
“What are you doing here?” She shook her head, breaking the spell.
She was possibly hurt, and he was here to help, not gawk.
“Look at me.” He held up his hand.
“Stop,” she snapped and wiped her cheek, smearing the mud further.
“Where does it hurt?”
“My pride? All over.” She groaned and levered up into a sitting position.
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?”
“Yes. I’m fine.” Her gaze jumped over his shoulder then her eyes widened. “Watch—”
Something shoved Cole forward, and he went sprawling into the muddy woman. She rolled back, lying flat on the garden rows. He caught himself, but the slick ground gave him no purchase. He pitched face first into the woman’s ample chest while a pig squealed, as though laughing at him. She grunted and curled her body around him, hands gripping his shoulders. It shouldn’t feel good to be held like that, but it did and that was fucked up.
Yeah, life was sure kicking him in the balls now.
* * *
* * *
Scarlett clutched her brother’s clothes to her chest and stared at the doorway leading to the hall bathroom where her unexpected guest was showering.
Holy… Just—holy.
When she’d stared at that man she’d stopped thinking, lost in eyes that were a light green. Or blue? Kind of minty. She’d been caught completely off guard by him. Then the stupid pig bolted. The neighbors had probably arrived home which meant the possibility of food and Scarlett had gotten a lot more acquainted with her would-be rescuer.
It said a lot about her relationship status that having a random, attractive man fall on her was about as good as she’d gotten lately. She was in need of some help if her mind equated that with being held. B
ut then he’d scrambled off her and any fantasy she’d have harbored was gone.
The image of mud-boob prints on his cheeks would be burned into her memory. Even now her cheeks heated thinking about it. God, why were these things always happening to her? Couldn’t she be a normal girl who met a guy at the right time instead of wallowing in mud?
Who was he?
Why was he here?
There wasn’t a car or a truck out front, so how had he arrived?
Or had heaven just spat him out to torment her?
The water shut off.
Right.
Clothes.
He needed clothes since his were covered in mud from trying to help her.
There needed to be a discussion about the pig soon. This was the third or fourth time the behemoth had shown up at their place. At least it had never happened during a wedding. That would be bad.
Right.
Deliver clothes.
Figure out what he wanted.
Get him on his way and out of her head.
Then she could have a real shower and not a hosing off outside.
She lifted her hand and tapped her knuckles on the bathroom door.
It swung inward immediately. She snatched for the doorknob, thinking it hadn’t been shut properly but it was out of her grasp. Her mystery guest stood on the fluffy bath mat, a towel around his hips and a washrag in hand rubbing his hair.
Oh, holy…
Her mouth dried up and her tongue felt as though it were coiled in her throat.
Water droplets traced the deep cuts of muscle on his chest and abs. The towel was situated precariously on his hips, the Adonis belt of muscle highly defined, looked like an awfully fun slide she’d like to take a trip down.
He cleared his throat.
She was staring. Obviously staring.
Scarlett gave her head a shake and wrestled her eyes up to his head. Those same minty blue-green eyes she’d got lost in before. He was staring right back at her. The gut churning reaction was stronger now. Her knees knocked together a little despite her efforts to hold it together. She was more aware of the rest of him now. He had a double bump of his nose as if it had been broken a time or two. The smattering of freckles across his cheeks, chin, neck.
Was he freckled everywhere?
Don’t look.
“Are you sure you didn’t hit your head?” he asked and took a step toward her.
“I’m fine.” She took a step back until she leaned against the wall and glanced lower.
Yup, freckles—everywhere.
“Look at me?” He closed in on her and took her chin in his fingers.
“I’m still muddy.” She tried to pull away, but his hold was firm.
“I’m not a human doctor, but I am a vet. I’ve also had my fair share of concussions.”
“It’s not a concussion. I didn’t hit my head.” This close to him it was hard to breathe. She’d never met a man more potent. Even her lower regions were taking notice.
Had he just said he was a veterinarian? What was he doing here?
There was only one in town, and old Mr. Green didn’t look this good.
His thumb swiped over her cheek. His gaze studied her, and not just the concussion parts. If she wasn’t mistaken his eyes were on her lips more than anywhere else.
“I’m sorry.” He dropped his hand and took a step back, allowing her to breathe. “Can we try this again?”
He smiled and her body warmed. It was like a trained reaction.
“Are you…Scarlett?” he asked.
“Yes.” Crap. He knew who she was. He was probably here for some work reason. “Here. I brought you some clothes.”
She thrust the bundle of shorts and T-shirt at him then took a step sideways, uncomfortably aware of her physical response to him. Like her nipples chafing in her wet bra. She never thought about the state of her nipples. At least not outside the bedroom. Why now?
“Thanks.” He kept staring at her and it felt as though she weren’t wearing anything at all. “I’ll be right back.”
Scarlett nodded.
He turned his back toward her and she exhaled, taking in those wide, freckled shoulders of the very off-limits man disappearing behind the door again. The towel clung to the curve of his ass, showing off tight muscles she wanted to bite.
Bite.
Where was that coming from?
“Pull yourself together, girl,” she muttered to herself.
Scarlett was the kind of girl who fell in love easy. It didn’t even have to be encouraged, sometimes it just happened. Which had gotten her into trouble.
She padded around the corner into the kitchen and grabbed two mason jar glasses, then retrieved the pitcher of sweet tea. Maybe that would help cool her down. Her parched throat needed something wet and cold to counteract the heat simmering low in her belly.
“Thanks,” he said right behind her.
Scarlett gasped and whirled, sloshing tea on her toes.
“Sorry,” she yelped and grabbed for the roll of paper towels.
“No, no. Let me.” He took the towels from her and bent, swiping the wood plank floors then her toes with a gentle touch.
Who are you?
“There.” He glanced up and smiled, his damp hair falling forward over his brow.
Sweet Jesus, he smiled and she could hear angels.
“I’m sorry, not to be rude, but you have me at a disadvantage. Who are you?” She couldn’t take this torture anymore. She should take a step back, put distance between them, but she was rooted to the spot.
“I’m Cole.” He straightened, standing so close she could smell the soap on his skin and the flecks of darker blues and greens in his eyes.
“Cole?” She didn’t know that name, but she wanted to.
“Cole Odell?”
Odell.
Shit.
The Odell wedding.
He was a groom.
And she’d…
Oh—oh, fiddlesticks.
Her throat closed up and heat raced up her neck.
“You’re Allie-Kate’s fiancé. It’s so nice to meet you. I’d offer to shake your hand but I’m still messy.” Scarlett held up her hands, took a step back and screwed on her work smile even while a part of her withered. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you guys.”
Cole glanced away, and it was as though the world dimmed a bit. A silly part of her wanted to do whatever it took to make him smile again.
“The wedding is off,” he said.
Those four words hit her in the stomach one after the other.
The wedding?
Was off?
She opened and closed her mouth, not sure what to say.
“That was actually what I came up to talk to someone about.” Cole braced his hand on the island and faced her, all business now. This gaze was sober, serious. “I wasn’t privy to the booking details and seeing as how there isn’t going to be a wedding, I was hoping to recoup some of the money.”
Scarlett blinked at him. She wanted to know what had happened, how it had gone wrong, if AK was okay, if he was okay. But she couldn’t ask those questions.
“Your name was on the emails Allie copied me on.” He glanced back at her.
Scarlett mentally did the math.
It was currently September nineteenth.
His wedding was scheduled for October twenty-eight.
Oh crap.
Her heart fell to the floor.
“I can’t say off the top of my head what we can do. I’d have to talk to my cousins.” She gripped the edge of the counter. He had to be going through a lot right now. She didn’t want to crush his hope.
They had a no refund policy two months out and there was barely six weeks to go. Two weeks past the cut off.
Cole nodded, but his inner light had dimmed. His shoulders slumped.
Scarlett knew what it was like to be headed toward a wedding, then have it all yanked away. Granted, her boyfriend at the time had been a lying, thie
ving, manipulative asshole, but her love was blind. Losing him had hurt, physically, emotionally, mentally.
“Okay, well, thanks. Sorry about…”
“Want some tea?” She nudged the cup toward him.
“Thanks.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t know. AK never said anything.” She gripped her cup with both hands.
“Yeah, well, she didn’t say a lot to anyone.” He lifted the jar to his lips and took a long drink.
Cole drained the glass then set it on the island and stared at it. “I should have called before, I just…”
“No. No, it’s fine. I’m sure you two have been going through a lot.”
He snorted and glanced at her. His hurt shone through.
Scarlett resisted the urge to hug him. Barely.
She loved love. Starting The Love Barn and helping to organize weddings, it made her happy. Thrilled, even, to be part of so many romances taking the next step. Her own love life was nowhere near as good. She never wanted to see a couple fail.
“What—you don’t have to tell me—but, what happened?” She shouldn’t ask. It wasn’t her place and yet, was anyone listening to him? Why did he have that look in his eyes?
“I…don’t honestly know.” He shook his head. “I went to work, came home and there was a letter on the dining table telling me she couldn’t get married, she wasn’t in love with me and she’s sorry.”
Scarlett stared, grappling with the events as he laid them out. What was worse, she wasn’t entirely surprised. Allie-Kate had always been flaky.
“Wow.”
“Yeah. We were scheduled to turn in the keys to the apartment the next day and everything we owned had just been picked up to deliver down here. Talk about shitty timing.”
“Wait—you were moving here?”
