Shelter

by Stephanie Fournet

  My stomach dipped. Not because of Ava’s message, but because of the look on Cole’s face. “You… don’t believe her?” I asked carefully.

  He lifted his eyes to mine, and they suddenly looked ancient. Cole sighed. “I want so much to believe her.” He sounded exhausted. “Tell me I should believe her.”

  I held my breath. I hadn’t actually seen Ava since last night when we’d made dinner. But she’d seemed fine then. At least, I thought she’d seemed fine. “She’s going to a lot of classes. It’s possible she overdid it.”

  His frown didn’t budge. “A broken bone wouldn’t keep me from lunch at Flora’s, much less a pulled muscle. And Ava loves her just as much as I do.”

  I smiled in spite of my growing worry. “I don’t doubt that.” Then I shrugged. “But she’s been doing well. What makes you nervous?”

  Weary eyes stared back at me. “History,” he murmured. Then his gaze focused. “And… I haven’t been paying much attention to her the last few days.”

  Now, my stomach plummeted. “Because of me,” I whispered, just as Mama returned.

  “I just took the roast out. It needs to rest for a minute before I slice it, but then it’ll be ready to serve.” She glanced over her shoulder toward the kitchen as if to make sure the pork roast hadn’t walked away. “I sure hope Ava’s on her way.”

  Cole stood, his face tense and closed down. “Let me just give her a call,” he said and then he headed for the door. “Excuse me, ladies.” Lifting his phone to his ear, he stepped outside without a backward glance.

  Mama squeezed my knee in a vice-like grip, and I tore my eyes from the door to find her bug-eyed and smiling like a fiend.

  “Well, no wonder he was asking me if you were seeing anybody!” she gushed, smacking my knee with her open palm. “I used to think he had a little crush on you back in the old days, but I completely forgot about that.”

  My eyes blinked like a strobe light. “Y-you did? You thought he had a crush on me?”

  Mama looked at me like I was half-witted. “Uh, the way his eyes used to follow you when you walked into the room? The way he used to tease you and make you so mad? Heck, anybody would have noticed.” Mama shook her head with a mixture of impatience and pity. “And you were too busy pretending to hate his guts to notice how he’d light up whenever you gave him a minute of your time.”

  Was that how it had been? Obvious to anyone and everyone but me?

  “Now,” she said, giving my knee a shake. “What are you fretting about? It’s Sunday. That boy out there is crazy about you. And we’re about to have one of your favorites. You should be grinning from ear to ear.”

  I sighed. This was why I never bothered lying to Mama. She knew how to read me too well. I nodded toward her front door. “He’s worried about Ava.”

  Mama winced and closed her eyes. I knew she was saying a silent prayer for Ava. I hoped it would work. When she opened them again, she studied me for a moment. “He’s worried about Ava, and you’re worried about him.”

  Yep, she could read me far too well. I nodded, grimacing. “If he comes back and says she’s not coming, please don’t make a fuss.”

  She gave me a look of offended innocence. “When have I ever made a fuss?”

  Chapter 30

  ELISE

  Ava was a no-show. And Mama, to her credit, barely batted an eye when Cole broke the news. Instead, she put us to work setting the table while she sliced the roast and served our plates.

  As we sat down to the meal, I caught Cole checking his phone’s Find My Friends app, and his shoulders visibly lowered. He tucked the device into his pocket as I passed him the basket of Mama’s yeast rolls.

  “She’s home,” he muttered to me. Then he took the basket from me and peered inside. “Oh my God, Flora. Are these the same as the ones you used to make for dinner?”

  Mama beamed. “The very same.”

  Uttering a grunt of primal satisfaction, he helped himself to two rolls, and I let myself relax. From the moment Cole had said he hadn’t been paying enough attention to Ava, I’d nearly gone rigid. I was the reason for that. And I knew that this was possibly the first time in eight years that his single-minded focus had not been on his sister. If she hadn’t been alright, what would have happened? Would Cole have blamed himself?

  Would he have blamed me?

  I didn’t want to think about that, so I tucked that niggling worry out of sight and passed him the dish of green beans.

  After dinner, dessert, and another hour visiting with Mama, we said our goodbyes, and Cole walked me to my car. On the way, he grabbed my hand.

  “What are the chances I could convince you to come back home with me?”

  I bit my lip. I wanted to stay with him, to keep him close, but we’d been living in a bubble for almost forty-eight hours. I was eager for Cole to check on Ava, if only to prove that whatever had gone on with her today had nothing to do with me. And I needed to return to the real world to prove to myself what we had wasn’t a dream.

  I also needed to do laundry.

  If I could go through my mundane Sunday evening routine, I reasoned, and survive a regular Monday, this might all start to feel real. And I might be able to trust that it would last.

  “Your silence isn’t very encouraging,” Cole said, his dry tone making me laugh.

  “I’m sorry. It just might be wise to take it easy tonight.”

  We’d reached my car, but he stopped a few feet away from it, studying me. “We could have a strictly PG night. Cuddle on the couch. In bed by ten. Dressed in pajamas from head to toe.” His mouth curved up with the hint of a smile, but in his eyes I saw gentleness. Concern. Pleading.

  I squeezed his hand. “It’s not that,” I said, shaking my head. “I just think it would be a good idea to sleep in my own bed. Get my head out of the clouds and check in with reality for a little while, you know?”

  His gaze locked with mine. “This is my new reality.” Cole’s voice was low, and it touched me like a caress. My breath halted in my lungs. “But I won’t push you.”

  “Cole,” I whispered, already regretting my decision.

  He shook his head, a gentle admonishment in his eyes. “It’s alright.” He tugged on my hand. “Come here.”

  And then I was pressed against him, his arms tight around me. I snuck my arms under his to clasp him just as tightly. His chest was now my favorite place to nestle. The muscled slope of his pec… the reassuring thump of his heart… and the warm and sensual reminder of his scent all washed me in comfort.

  He kissed the top of my head. “Go home. Do your thing. Sleep in your own bed.” He brought his lips down to my ear. “But I want pictures.”

  The brush of his whisper tickled me with a tempting heat. I couldn’t help my giggle. “Okay. I’ll send pictures,” I agreed.

  A hand came up under my chin. “Kiss me goodnight,” he murmured, lifting me up to face him.

  “But it’s only three in the afternoon.”

  He gave me a wicked stare. “I could always come over tonight and tuck you in.”

  “Goodnight,” I teased, making us both laugh.

  “Funny girl,” he murmured before sealing his lips over mine.

  My laughter ended on a gasp. His kisses had the power to stun me. Wipe my mind clean. And leave my body loose-limbed and heavy.

  When I didn’t think I could take anymore and still stand on my own, I drew back. “Goodnight,” I echoed, whispering this time.

  Regarding me with his heated gaze, Cole lifted a finger to my swollen, humming lips and traced the sensitive flesh. “Goodnight, beautiful.”

  Knowing I had to move then or risk caving to my assaulting desire and the pull he exuded over me, I backed away to my car. I watched him watch me. His unrelenting gaze was like a weighted blanket over me. Moving away from it was so hard.

  He watched until I was safely in my car, and then he moved to his. I managed to start the engine and pull away without jumping out of the vehicle and shouting t
hat I’d changed my mind.

  My head was so crammed with thoughts and worries that the drive across town to my apartment seemed to take only seconds. I found my place empty and entirely too quiet. With nothing else to distract me, I did what I’d told myself I’d do. Laundry.

  But as I washed, dried, and folded, I relived every moment of the weekend with Cole, my stomach dipping or seizing as I remembered this touch or that look. I stopped myself from texting him about four times.

  After plowing through a bowl of Frosted Mini-Wheats, I drew myself a bath and sunk to my shoulders in the tub. Alberta came home two minutes later.

  “Tell me everything,” she said through the locked door. When I heard a thunk that rattled the medicine cabinet mirror, I knew she’d plopped down in the hallway, leaning against the door to wait me out.

  So, I told her everything. Well… not everything.

  But enough so that when I opened the bathroom door wrapped in a towel, Alberta was bouncing on her toes and clapping. “Eeeeeeek!” she squealed. “It’s so romantic!” She grabbed me in a hug and planted a kiss on my cheek.

  Blushing, I shrugged away. “You know I’m naked under here, right?”

  Alberta snorted and smacked my bare shoulder. “Oh, c’mon. I’m just happy for you. I get to be happy. I watched you moon over him for years, remember?”

  I ignored my best friend’s dig and crossed the hall to my room. Alberta followed and flopped on my bed.

  “How was camping with Ross?” I asked, wanting to move out of the center of attention.

  She gasped and put a hand to her heart, gazing at the ceiling. “If you’ve never made love outside under the stars, I highly recommend it.”

  I had to smother a laugh and promptly cleared my throat to disguise the sound. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Alberta didn’t seem to notice my struggle for composure. Wearing a dreamy expression, she appeared to be lost in her own memories of starlight trysts.

  “You look pretty contented.”

  She propped herself up on her elbows and smirked. “I guess I like camping.”

  I rolled my eyes and shimmied into a pair of panties beneath my towel. After I pulled my favorite cotton nightgown over me and dropped the towel, I found Alberta eyeing me.

  “What?” I asked, quickly scanning my arms and legs, hoping Cole hadn’t left an errant love bite somewhere clothes didn’t cover.

  Alberta narrowed her eyes. “You don’t look contented enough.”

  I opened my mouth to refute her, but only weak stammers came out. “I-I… of course, I—”

  Alberta gave me a slow-blinking look of impatience. “Just tell me what’s wrong.”

  With a sigh of defeat, I dropped to the bed beside her. “I’m fine. Really,” I said, and mostly it was true. “I just wish it felt more real… more solid.”

  Alberta turned on her side to face me. “You waiting for it to fall apart before it even starts?”

  I frowned. “I’m not dooming it if that’s what you mean.”

  She blinked at me. “Well, then what are you doing?”

  I let my eyes lift to the plain, square tiles on the ceiling. The view held none of the magic and awe of Alberta’s old bedroom where we’d first talked about my feelings for Cole Whitehurst way back when. It had been so long ago, but in a way, it felt like only a matter of days.

  I sighed. “I guess I’m waiting for history to repeat itself.”

  “What do you mean?” Alberta asked, her voice gentling.

  It was easier to keep my gaze on the even, white squares above me. “I mean losing him in a way I can’t foresee or prevent,” I admitted, voicing my fears even though saying them aloud felt dangerous, giving the universe permission to manifest them. “Being left behind as if I didn’t matter.”

  “Elise,” Alberta said, her voice soft with shock. “You can’t believe you don’t matter to him.”

  No.

  I allowed myself to face her. “I believed I didn’t matter for a long time,” I tried to explain. “I don’t anymore, but it doesn’t make the prospect of losing him seem any less likely.”

  Her thin brows drew together in concern. “Forgive me for asking, but are we still talking about Cole?”

  I blew out a frustrated breath, and I wasn’t sure if it was directed at Alberta or myself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked, even though I was pretty sure I knew.

  “Are you going to make me say it?” She gave me a faintly pleading look.

  “I’m not talking about my father,” I insisted. “Or lack thereof.”

  Alberta nodded. “Of course not.” Her words carried a gentle sarcasm.

  It had been at least three years since I’d even bothered to question Mama about him. His identity. His whereabouts. Their history together. She’d remained tight-lipped on the subject even after I’d entered adulthood. And since the topic was always one that darkened Flora’s mood whenever I pressed about it, I’d given up, deciding that whatever information I could gather about a man who wanted nothing to do with me and whom my mother clearly despised might not really be worth it.

  I shook my head. “That’s just stupid. I literally never think about him. Why would this be about him?” I asked sharply. But even though the words I said were true, I heard the defensiveness, the woundedness in my voice.

  Alberta reached across the bed and took my hand. “It’s alright. Whatever this is about, it’s alright.”

  A heavy, prickly feeling had descended on me, and I wanted to shrink from it, to shake it off. It wasn’t pain, exactly. But an invasive discomfort and something like remote suffocation. A feeling so familiar and ancient that I didn’t have a name for it.

  But it made me feel small. And powerless. And I’d always hated that feeling.

  “This isn’t about him,” I said, weakly this time. Why I felt the need to say it, I couldn’t explain.

  Alberta squeezed my hand. “Maybe it’s just about you.”

  As true as this was, it cleared up nothing for me. I still felt anchored in confusion and irritability, and I wanted to be left alone.

  As if in answer to my wish, my phone rang. I levered up off the bed and plucked it from my dresser. Cole’s name flashed across the screen. My heart gave a clumsy lurch, as though urging me to answer. Maybe I didn’t want to be alone after all.

  “Hi,” I answered.

  “You haven’t sent any pictures.”

  At my startled laugh, Alberta pushed herself up. “I’m gonna go,” she whispered. And then I was alone in my room with Cole’s voice in my ear. That anchor of unease fell away.

  “You’re right. I haven’t. I just got out of the tub.”

  Cole tsked. “Missed opportunity,” he purred wickedly.

  My cheeks flamed, and my grin felt like it might never fade. “How’s Ava?”

  “Fine, and don’t think I didn’t notice what you did there,” he said, his voice edged with cunning.

  I blinked. “What are you talking about?”

  “You. Changing the subject because you’re shy about your body.”

  I gulped, glad he couldn’t see my pink turn to scarlet. I didn’t know what to say. He was absolutely right, and even dressed and alone in my room, I felt naked and exposed.

  “I’m going to tell you this now, and I’ll tell you every day for the rest of my life if I have to,” Cole said, his voice low and honeyed. “You are the most beautiful sight I’ve ever seen. I’m jealous of every pair of eyes that’s ever had the privilege of running over your body. I could look at nothing but you from now until I die, and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

  My breath stalled. Every cell on my skin was burning with the blush of a lifetime. I thought I might turn to ash. “Cole,” I managed, and that was all I could manage. Because even as I blushed from head to toe, my muscles loosened to the consistency of soup, and I crawled back onto my bed before I could collapse.

  “Yes, my love?”

  I shut my eyes. There it was again. The claim. The sign that w
hat he felt for me might approach what I felt for him. My love.

  I swallowed, trying to take it all in. “I’ll probably always be shy this way.” About my body, I meant. But saying that — even saying the words, my body — was hard.

  Cole’s low chuckle curled into my ear. “Baby, I want you to fucking love your body, but your shyness is adorable. Your blushes are the sexiest damn things I’ve ever seen.”

  Okay, we needed to stop talking about me. Spontaneous combustion was a real threat. I cleared my throat. “So, Ava’s okay? How’s her back?”

  I heard him snicker, and I just knew he was laughing again at my change of subject.

  “After Flora’s, I went to the office for a bit, and Ava was in her room when I got home. I told her Flora had made her a plate, and she said she might feel like eating later,” he said. “It’s nothing serious. She’s just uncomfortable, I guess.”

  “Well, that’s good. I’m sorry she missed lunch, but there’s always next Sunday.”

  Cole’s smile was clear in his voice. “Yeah, I have a feeling Sunday dinner at Flora’s just became a permanent entry on my calendar.”

  Permanent. The word made my heart hammer with unwieldy thumps. I wanted permanent. I wanted it too much.

  “I-I’d like that,” I admitted softly.

  “Good,” Cole teased. “Because you’re not getting rid of me.”

  “There you go again.” Ed stood just inside the front door of the store, holding the white paper bag from Twins containing our lunches.

  I blinked at him, emerging from a daydream that heavily featured me, Cole, and a shortage of clothing.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, pushing away from the counter where I was supposed to be itemizing a bill for a custom-made wedding set.

  Ed narrowed his eyes. “I can’t believe you’re holding out on me. Even after I gave you the afternoon off on Friday.”

  I rolled my eyes at my boss. “Like I told you, I had a lovely time. We’re going to see each other again.” I was careful to say time instead of weekend and again instead of tonight. If Ed knew any more, he’d pepper me with questions.