by Zoe York
“Depends, think my wine is chilled?” She’d stowed a bottle in his fridge with the idea of enjoying it at home after dinner while she nursed her hurt feelings.
“I hope so.” Cole’s smile was wicked.
He got out of the Jeep, her head spinning a bit. A moment later he was at her door. He had it open and his hand out to her.
Oh, God. Every time she touched him she became acutely aware of body parts she never thought about.
Here went nothing.
She placed her hand in his and heat rolled through her. She got out, but he didn’t let go of her immediately. He squeezed her hand and didn’t let go.
“That.” He lifted her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Is it always like this?”
She swallowed, her mouth dry as he kissed each knuckle.
Oh, God…
“You feel it,” he said.
He studied her eyes, and she wanted to burst into flames. Anything would feel better than standing here wanting him.
“Come on, let’s see about the wine.” He tucked her hand into the crook of his arm then escorted her up the path to the front door and inside the house.
She followed along in a daze, the smart part of her mind being drowned out by other ideas and thoughts, ones that involved Cole, sweat, heat.
He closed the door behind them and let her go.
Her chest felt too tight, the room too warm. It was like the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.
“Have a seat?” He gestured at the sofa.
“Thanks,” she mumbled and watched him stride into the country kitchen.
While he poured the wine she strolled through the room, sucking down deep breaths.
Boxes with labels like living room and game stuff lined the walls. The furniture was sparse, just a sectional, some odds and ends and the TV.
She listened to him move around the kitchen, each shift and noise scraping against her awareness. Cole had acknowledged the chemistry outside when he took her hand. What was she supposed to do with that?
“Here you go.” Cole brought her a wine glass.
“These are pretty.” She lifted it to admire the etched design.
“Thanks.” He scratched his jaw and didn’t offer an explanation for the fancy glasses. “Sit?”
“This looks brand new.” She eyed the blue sofa with the flecks of white and lighter blue in the fabric.
“It was delivered the day after I got here. It’s comfortable and I think I actually picked the color.” He jammed a pillow under his arm.
“Get any other cool, new stuff?” she asked.
“Lots of wedding presents. Kitchen gadgets I’m never going to use. You want a crock pot or a pressure cooker?”
“I’m curious about pressure cookers. You should keep it and use it. I’ve heard they’re great.” She should just remind herself that he’d been engaged until recently. As if that would cool her down.
“I don’t know how to use it.”
“Have you tried this thing called Google?”
“Smart ass.” He narrowed his gaze at her and her stomach did a little flip-flop.
“So I’m told.” She sipped her wine.
“What happened with that traffic situation?” he asked.
“Hm. said it sounds like Sissy just pulled out in front of Jessica, never glanced her way or anything. I think Sissy’s eyesight is going.” Scarlett didn’t envy Sissy’s family that fight. The little old lady was feisty and independent.
“If she’s a danger to other drivers though…?”
“Yeah. From the sound of it, Jessica didn’t report it, but someone else did. It’s on an ATM camera or something. She’s got enough minor accidents on her record it wasn’t a long process to revoke her license.” Scarlett took another sip, rolling the wine over her tongue.
“That doesn’t sound good.” Cole propped his head on his fist.
“No, and I imagine this isn’t going to end neatly.” She chuckled and wondered not for the first time what Sissy was going to do to get around these rules. Like most of the other grannies in Ransom, Sissy was very independent.
“So, your story you promised me?” Cole prompted.
“Did I promise?”
“I thought I heard a promise.”
“You might need to get your ears checked.” She pointed at him and squinted. It wasn’t a secret; it just wasn’t something she liked to think about.
The Lively family curse.
She knew it was a bunch of baloney, and yet she’d lived through it.
It boiled down to the fact that she wasn’t ready to go home yet. This last week she’d walked on eggshells around Garth. It was nice to sit and relax with someone. But after tonight she needed to keep her distance. She wasn’t convinced she could even be friends with Cole.
“To understand the curse, you have to dig back into the family history.” She clasped her glass in both hands. This was a safe topic at least. “The barn on our property used to be part of a communal piece of land. Anyone could use the barn or the field. Well, sometime around the Great Depression the town needed money and our family bought the barn and field. It was a big thing because people were upset about it.”
“I could see that.” Cole held out his hand and took her empty glass from her.
“The biggest problem was that this family had been squatting in the barn at the time. From what I understand, the woman was some kind of Comanche spiritual figure, maybe a shaman? She cursed the family, said that we would die of broken hearts.”
“Because they were forced out of the barn?” Cole asked.
“That’s the way I understand it. If you ask Garth or Benji, they have their own ideas, everyone does. They’re wrong. I swear I’m telling you the most factual version of the story.” She held up her hand. “A couple years later my great, great grandmother died and not long after her husband passed away. The story goes that he was in town and they’d just put out a bushel of oranges. His wife had loved them and when he saw them he was overcome with grief so strong he died of a broken heart.”
“Wow.”
“My great grandfather died in an accident with a bull that had gotten caught in some wire and my grandfather died in Vietnam, so the curse was this thing they’d laugh about.” She stared at the blue flecks in the sofa.
“The family has a lot of boys, I take it?”
“Yes.” She nodded. I’m one of two girls born in four generations. “When I was younger my mom died. Car accident. Freak ice storm. Dad just…wasted away. He really did die of a broken heart. He stopped wanting to go on without her.”
Cole’s hand closed around hers and he squeezed. The desire for him was still there, but the contact was comforting. Pleasant.
“Then, a few years later, Garth and Benji’s mom was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer. She went fast, and one morning a few weeks after her funeral, Garth went out to the barn and there was his dad. Dead. No real explanation, just dead.” She blew out a breath. “And that’s the Lively family curse.”
“That’s why you don’t think you’ll ever get married?” He threaded his fingers through hers.
“It’s in the back of my mind all the time.” Scarlett had other reasons. The men she was attracted to didn’t always want her the same way she wanted them. She was no stranger to heartbreak. If anyone was going to die of a broken heart, it would be her. Her last boyfriend had proved that.
“There wasn’t an autopsy or anything? There has to be a medical reason why they died like that.” Cole leaned forward caught up in the story.
“Maybe, but we never found out.” She squeezed his hand then let go.
“What happened to you guys then? You were still young, I’m guessing.”
“Garth was eighteen. He became our guardian. I think that’s where a lot of our problems originate from. He still wants to take care of us and tell us what to do, but in my mind he’s…the boy that dressed up as the Cowardly Lion.”
“What?” Cole wrinkled his nose.<
br />
“Yeah. So, when we were younger I was obsessed with The Wizard of Oz. And our moms got together and made us this horrible costumes. I was Dorothy, obviously. Benji was the Scarecrow. And Garth was The Cowardly Lion. We’ve always been close.”
That history and her own inclination were exactly why getting involved with Cole beyond friendship was a bad idea. After what AK had put him through, he wasn’t bound to be the kind of guy who’d be ready for her. And the next man Scarlett took a chance on needed to be the one. A man who’d love her as fiercely as she wanted to love him.
Cole placed his hand on her knee and scooted closer. She stared at his big hand against the hem of her dress. Her throat worked to swallow, but it was hard with every fiber of her being focused on this man, his touch.
“Scarlett?” His voice was husky and low, a lot like she thought he’d sound during sex.
Oh, boy.
Her mind did not need to go there.
Those hands on the aching parts of her, the pleasure a body like that was capable of inspiring.
She was so in trouble.
“Scarlett?”
“Hm?”
“I think you’re right and the story is a bunch of baloney.”
“Oh?”
“I think we need to talk about this.” He pressed his fingers against her thigh.
She turned her face and found him dangerously close. Kiss-ably close.
He stared at her, but she couldn’t tear her gaze away from his lips. That mouth promised her things he never said.
Her phone rang, the sound causing her to jump and breaking the moment. She snatched it out of her skirt pocket and stared at the name without reading it. He was dangerous to her heart, she knew it without having to test those waters. If she didn’t want to become a Lively family statistic, she had to stay away from him.
“I need to go,” Scarlett blurted. She was treading on dangerous ground.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes. No. Not really.” She stood and muted the call.
“Scarlett.” He stood and took her hand, staring down at her.
“I need to go,” she said again.
“Okay.” His fingers rubbed against her skin. “We’ll finish this later.”
She nodded.
“You good to drive?” he asked.
“It was a tiny sip of wine. You have a light pour.” She was able to put a smile on her face.
“Just making sure.” He held up his hand, releasing her. “Thanks for going to dinner with me.”
“Thanks for taking me.” She slid her phone into her pocket.
“Let me grab your things and I can walk you out.”
Together they got her groceries in the Jeep, every rustle of plastic ratcheting the tension coiled inside of her tighter.
“This was nice. Thanks for dinner,” she said taking a step away from him as he closed the door.
“We’ll have to do it again sometime.” One side of his mouth kicked up. He backed up to the driver’s side and opened her door for her, leaning his forearm against it.
“I’ll have to check my schedule.” She swallowed then forced herself to slide into the driver’s seat when what she really wanted to do was so much more sinful.
Scarlett was no stranger to taking a chance on a man, but Cole would only break her heart. She was pretty sure she’d enjoy every minute between now and the pain. She just couldn’t make herself take that leap. Not when he was healing, too.
Chapter 4
Cole sat on the front steps of the house sipping his coffee.
Festus would have loved this big yard. The old dog had kept his energy up until the very end. He’d loved nothing more than a lively game of fetch.
Damn, he missed that dog.
It was probably a good thing his schedule was going to stay packed. Sundays were going to be his only off day for the foreseeable future, so he wasn’t rushing to do anything today. It was an added boon he had a full pantry, thanks to Scarlett.
Scarlett.
Her name made him want to smile and frown all at once. What were they doing?
Nothing smart, that was for sure.
What he should be focused on instead of Allie or Scarlett was, what would his private investigator find out? That was the real question that concerned him.
He pulled out his phone and looked at the message about his siblings. They were out there. He wanted to find them, see how their lives had gone, and maybe meet up. He wasn’t expecting reunions or big holidays. They might hate him for not doing more or trying to reconnect sooner. It was a fact he’d have to live with if that time came.
Cole downed the last of his coffee, the familiar restlessness settling in.
He pushed up to his feet and padded inside the house.
Ransom was going to be his home for a while. He wasn’t going anywhere else soon. It was time to live like it.
He went through the boxes stacked in the living room, pulling his things out, storing them on shelves or shuffling to a different room. When they’d packed he’d gotten rid of a lot of things, paring it down to start a new life. It felt like a true, fresh start. And not like one of Mom’s so-called fresh starts with some new guy Cole had to worry about. A real one.
Two hours later he’d made a dent in unpacking. It looked like someone actually lived here now.
Cole’s stomach growled, and he glanced at the kitchen. There was food here, but he didn’t want to be cooped up inside. Scarlett had said there was a diner in town. Would the people there be as friendly as the ones at the grill last night?
His mind made up, Cole jumped in the shower, brushed his teeth and by the time noon rolled around he was on his bike headed down Main Street with a line of older model cars all turning into the Sunrise Diner.
Well the place must be good if it was this popular. Or it was the only place in town.
Cole turned into the parking lot of the old diner with its primary color sign and found a handicapped sign to secure his bike to. Women in floral dresses and men wearing their Sunday best headed inside. He slid in between two groups and found a dining area alive with people.
It was like a middle school dance with the women on the far side of the restaurant at a couple tables pushed together into two long ones and all the men on the other. The wait staff bustled around, smiling brightly. Cole glimpsed the Seat Yourself sign and decided the counter was the best place for him.
He picked up a discarded menu and began pursuing his options.
A few other people took up spots at the bar and the waitress delivered waters with a promise to, “Be right back.”
He didn’t care if the food took an hour and was only mediocre. It was nice being around others.
“Doctor Odell,” a wavering woman’s voice said.
Cole turned toward the two tables taking up the other side of the dining area.
Pearl grinned and fluttered her hand at him. At least a dozen curious pairs of eyes studied him.
“Careful,” the man sitting two stools down said. He wore a navy blue cop uniform. He glanced from Cole to the table. “They’re trouble.”
“Liam Jones, don’t you be saying anything untrue,” one of the ladies called out.
“Bunny, you think I’d lie?” Liam turned to face the woman.
“Your mother taught you better than that.” The woman sitting at the head of the table tipped her nose up and sniffed.
“She did, ma’am.” Liam tipped an invisible hat at her.
“Doctor Odell, come join us,” Pearl said.
Cole glanced from the women to Liam who was chuckling and shaking his head.
“They’re mostly harmless,” Liam said, pitching his voice loud enough for the table to hear.
“Mostly?” Cole picked up his water and stood.
“Don’t let their Sunday best fool you. That’s a gang.” Liam thumbed at the women.
“A gang?” Cole grinned. A gang of grannies?
“A word of caution? Don’t accept anything
from them without asking about the cost. The pinch tax is brutal.”
“Pinch…tax?” Cole eyed the women.
“Liam..” The other man held his hand out.
“Cole Odell.” He gripped Liam’s hand.
“Nice to meet you. Glad old man Green’s getting some help at the clinic.”
“Thanks.” I think?
“You need anything, just holler or come to The Hole.” Liam picked up a to-go box then turned toward the ladies. “Don’t scare off the new vet, ladies. Okay?”
Cole slid between the two tables until he got to the vacant seat next to Pearl.
“How are you settling in, Doctor Odell?” the woman Liam had addressed as Bunny asked.
“Good. Good. Thanks for asking.”
“They aren’t working you too hard at the clinic?” the woman next to Bunny asked.
“No, ma’am. I’ve only had the best patients so far.”
Bunny gestured to the woman. “This is Sissy. You know Pearl.” She continued going around the table, reciting names and connecting a few who were related.
Cole smiled and nodded, but the bulk of the names went over his head.
The waitress came and took their orders, which took a moment. Everyone had to be quiet, so no mistakes were made.
He’d never known his grandparents. By the time he was born, Mom had been kicked out of her parent’s house. To his knowledge he’d never met them and didn’t know if they were still alive. There was a community, togetherness, vibe in the diner that had him smiling.
“Mom, do you have the keys?” An older man leaned on the back of Sissy’s chair.
“She better not,” a woman down the table said.
“You hush.” Sissy wagged her finger at the woman with one hand then scooped a set of car keys out of her purse for the man Cole presumed was her son.
“I heard you almost had a wreck with Jessica North,” the same woman said.
“I did not. That young woman is a reckless driver.” Sissy harrumphed and turned toward Bunny, giving the other woman her shoulder.
Cole had been there and while he hadn’t seen the almost wreck, he wasn’t inclined to believe Sissy’s side of things. But, he wasn’t going to share that statement.
