by Jenn Roseton
“What?” She stared at him.
“I’m in love with you.” His thumb caressed her hand.
She froze. Scott had told her he loved her, just before he betrayed her. Although Cole had proven she could trust him with the coin, how could she trust his words of love? And this time, not just her pride would be hurt when Cole tired of her.
His declaration of love changed everything.
Why would such a handsome, rich man be in love with her? She was nobody special. Cole could have any woman he wanted. Why would he want a plump girl like her? She was just a glorified store clerk.
She tugged her hands free. He would grow bored with her - and her figure. Soon, he would probably wonder why he’d ever been attracted to her in the first place.
There was only one thing she could do …
“I think you better go.” Her lips were so stiff she could barely get the words out.
“What?” He looked at her, shocked. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”
“Everything,” she choked, moisture stinging the corners of her eyes. “We don’t belong together, Cole.”
He reached over the table and grabbed her hands. “I’ve just told you I loved you, dammit.”
“That’s the point,” she whispered, looking everywhere except at him. She just couldn’t meet his gaze. Her heart felt like it was cracking in two. But wouldn’t the pain be much worse in a few weeks or months when he realized he didn’t really love her after all?
“Phoebe, you’re not making sense.” He frowned.
“I’m making perfect sense.” Her head started to throb. “Please Cole, please go.”
“No.” He relinquished her hands and walked around to her side of the table. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.”
Feeling cornered, she finally glanced at him. Worry and consternation etched his face. “You can’t be in love with me.”
“Of course I can.” He placed his hands on her shoulders, as if his touch would soothe her. Instead, it just made her feel worse. This would be the last contact she’d ever have with him.
“No.” She didn’t dare trust his words.
“Do you love me, Phoebe?”
“I …” she didn’t think she could lie to Cole, but she couldn’t tell him what her feelings were toward him. And right now, she didn’t have a clue what she was feeling. Except she needed to protect herself from heartache.
There was a long pause. “I see,” he said heavily. “I’ll go. But I’m not giving up on you - on us.”
***
Cole drove home in a fog, only one thing on his mind. Phoebe. Everything had been going so well until … he told her he loved her. And about his grandfather’s will. These days, no one in the family cared two hoots about Abel Trask’s ridiculous will. He and his brothers had abided by the terms when they’d been young and wanted to make their mark on the world. But when they realized just how constraining that will actually was, they decided they’d control their own lives, not let their dead grandfather do so.
And now, somehow, his grandfather was affecting his life again. Cole scowled. He wasn’t going to let Phoebe push him away. He knew she had feelings for him, even if she didn’t love him - yet. There was no way she could fake the passion in her kisses or all the little ways that showed she cared about him.
He was going to make sure she knew just how much he loved her.
***
In the days and weeks that followed, Phoebe constantly thought about Cole. Why did he think he was in love with her? Why did he have to be wealthy? What was he doing right now?
No wonder he owned a luxury SUV, co-owned a helicopter, had plenty of cash in his wallet when they’d traveled to Jackson Hole, and could help people in need. Like her. Now she understood why his log cabin had unexpected touches of luxury, like the whirlpool spa in the bathroom, the pretty stained glass window in the living room, and a gourmet kitchen.
When she’d met his brothers, Garrett and Alex, she’d assumed they were financially comfortable as well, but not to the extent that they could afford not to work ever again if they felt like it. She still found it hard to wrap her mind around that fact.
Every day, a new bouquet of flowers arrived at her apartment. Sometimes they were red roses, other times they were her favorites, pastel pink and yellow gerberas. She’d mentioned that fact to Cole once, and he’d remembered. And a card was tucked in with every arrangement of blooms, in his distinctive handwriting, with three simple words: “I love you.”
He often popped into the store to see her, not even bothering with an excuse. Sometimes she allowed him to persuade her to have lunch with him, although she always returned to the store wondering if it had been a good idea. Her heart ached like crazy whether she was with him or not. Knowing he was off-limits to her, despite him continuing to woo her, made her miserable. But the thought of never seeing him again was something she just couldn’t bear to contemplate.
Since that night, Cole hadn’t touched her or kissed her. He didn’t even try. He was just there, his dark brown eyes watching for the slightest sign of encouragement. But she just couldn’t give it to him.
He’d even cajoled her into attending a picnic with Garrett and Maddie, Alex and Laura. Phoebe told herself the only reason she’d accepted the invitation was to see his sisters-in-law again. But she couldn’t deny the pleasure she experienced in his company, even if it was tinged with the knowledge that they could never be a couple again.
She knew she should just tell Cole to give up on her. She was a big, fat coward.
The shop door opened. Phoebe looked up from her doodling, realizing she’d just written Cole’s name twenty times in her small notebook.
“Hello, dear.” Mrs. Miller walked up to the counter.
Phoebe summoned a smile. “Hi, Mrs. Miller. How are you?”
The elderly lady beamed. “Wait until you see my new car. I’ve parked it out front. I sold the coin to a museum and they paid me sixty thousand dollars!”
“That’s wonderful!” Phoebe left the counter and headed toward the window, her eyes widening. “Is it the blue convertible?”
“Yep. Electric blue, the salesman called it. I won’t have any trouble finding it in a parking lot.”
“That’s for sure,” Phoebe murmured, the bright blue paint reflecting in the morning sunlight and shining directly into her eyes.
“I wanted a car just like your young man’s, but it was a bit of a job clambering into the driver’s seat. I tested five different models, but hopping in and out just wasn’t as much fun as I thought it would be.”
“It can be a bit difficult at times,” Phoebe agreed, thinking back to the times she’d worn a dress and heels when on a date with Cole - before.
“And how is your young man - the private eye?” Mrs. Miller peered at her. “Still seeing him?”
“Not exactly.” She bit her lip. “We … sort of broke up.”
The other woman tsked. “That’s too bad. He sure was easy on the eye. And seemed a very nice man, too.”
“He is,” Phoebe murmured, the memories of the last three months flooding back. Hunky. Dependable. Gruff and growly. An amazing lover. Trustworthy.
“Take my advice, Phoebe.” Mrs. Miller’s serious tone commanded her attention. “Life’s short. If you can patch things up with him, then do so.” She nodded her head emphatically. “Don’t waste a moment of happiness. I’m just glad I had as much time as I did with my Charlie.”
“How long were you married?” Phoebe asked gently.
“Nearly forty years. And then his heart went. He was a little older than me, you see,” Mrs. Miller confided. “But I never regretted a moment of our time together. Never.”
Phoebe wondered what she and Cole would look like in forty years’ time. Would they still live in his cabin outside Cheyenne? Would they have grandchildren? Grown-up kids?
She couldn’t imagine anything better than spending the next forty plus years of her life with Cole. Loving. Laughing.
Hearing his sexy growl.
Could she trust his words of love?
He wasn’t Scott. He’d proven that to her in a myriad of ways. She’d just been too gun-shy to see it.
I love him. She’d been wavering already, wondering if her reaction that night had been a little too hasty. Mrs. Miller’s words made her realize just what she would give up if she remained determined to let her ex-boyfriend’s betrayal rule her whole life.
“You’re right.” She smiled, already feeling lighter. “In fact, Cole’s asked me to dinner tonight.” He hadn’t even given her a chance to refuse, just called her that morning, informing her he’d pick her up at seven for dinner and ending the conversation before she could even try to utter an excuse.
“That’s the spirit, dear.” The older woman beamed at her. “You say hello to him for me.”
“I will,” Phoebe promised. She could hardly wait for the workday to finish.
After Mrs. Miller left the store, she tidied the shelves, trying to keep her mind off tonight. What would she say to Cole? Would he forgive her for not believing in his love? Today, he’d sent her orchids for the first time, so hopefully he would.
As soon as the store closed, she hurried home. She wanted to look good for Cole. Ninety minutes later, she looked at herself in the mirror. Her little black dress - maybe not so little because she did have a fuller figure - hugged her curves. The matching black heels meant for once she would come up to Cole’s shoulder, instead of his chest, and her hair looked like it had been styled by someone who actually knew what she was doing with a curling iron.
Butterflies somersaulted in her stomach when the doorbell rang. Her hand trembling, she opened the door.
“Hi.” She gazed at Cole, looking handsome and sexy in an expensive looking charcoal suit.
He didn’t say anything, just looked at her as if he were trying to memorize her face.
“You’re hurt!” Her eyes widened as she noticed the angry bruise peppering his jaw line. She reached out to touch his face, then pulled back, not wanting to hurt him further. “What happened?”
“I’m fine,” he reassured her. “Blackwood took me by surprise, that’s all.”
“Victor did this?” Her eyes widened.
“He got lucky,” Cole said dismissively. “My friends on the force were closing in on him and Kurt and he must have been feeling the pressure. So he came to visit me. Mrs. Miller’s not the first person he’s tried to swindle, but hopefully she’ll be the last. He was arrested after he left my office with a shiner. Kurt’s in custody as well.” His white teeth flashed in a grin.
“Good.” She was glad her ex-boss and his crony were being held to account for their actions, although she wished Cole hadn’t been caught in the crossfire.
“Ready to go?” He held out his hand.
She nodded, tentatively placing her hand in his. This was the first time they’d touched in weeks. An electric current raced up her arm, and she closed her eyes, telling herself what a fool she’d been to dismiss his words of love so readily. She only hoped he could forgive her.
Cole made small talk on the way to the restaurant, asking her how her day had been. She’d just finished telling him about Mrs. Miller’s new car when they pulled up outside an upscale restaurant. The elderly lady’s words echoed in her mind as Cole escorted her inside.
The portly maitre d’ led them to a cozy corner table, partially secluded from the rest of the room.
Although she’d lived in Cheyenne for years, she’d never visited this restaurant before. Muted lighting, soft classical music and the swanky furnishings reinforced the fact that this was a very classy place. And her menu didn’t have prices on it.
She took a sip of fancy champagne Cole had ordered, peeking at him from underneath her lashes. When should she tell him she was in love with him?
“Phoebe, I was going to wait until after dinner but I can’t.”
She’d been so pre-occupied with her own thoughts, that she hadn’t noticed Cole looked nervous.
“What is it?” she whispered, her pulse thrumming in her throat. He sounded so serious.
He took her hand, his clasp sure and strong. “I love you with all my heart, Phoebe Lancaster. I’ve never desired a woman the way I desire you. But I also love you for your mind, your spirit, your courage--”
She opened her mouth to protest.
“Yes, courage. How many other people would run the risk of being arrested for theft because they didn’t want someone to be cheated?”
She’d never thought herself courageous, especially six weeks ago, when Cole had confessed his feelings to her. But now ...
“Oh, Cole … I think I’ve been an idiot.”
“Only think?” he said teasingly, squeezing her hand.
“I’m sorry. I know you’re nothing like Scott.” Tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
“That guy didn’t deserve you.” He came around to her side of the table. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he soothed.
“But he made me question your love for me.” She wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest, never wanting to let him go. Finally, she drew back and gave him a watery smile. “I’m in love with you too, Cole.”
“Sweetheart.” He crushed her against him. Dropping down on one knee, he took her hand in his. “Phoebe Lancaster, will you marry me? I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you to be my wife.”
“Yes.” She flung her arms around him.
When they drew apart, Cole ginned crookedly. “I haven’t even shown you the ring.”
“The ring doesn’t matter.” She cupped his face. “All I care about is you.”
EPILOGUE
Three years later
Phoebe smiled as she rang up a three hundred dollar transaction. “Thank you, Mrs. Green.” She handed the stylish woman the carefully wrapped antique hand mirror she’d just purchased.
‘No, thank you, Phoebe,” the customer replied. “I’ll be sure to tell all my friends about your darling little store. See you soon.”
Phoebe patted her small bump as Mrs. Green left the shop. “Another satisfied customer, baby,” she whispered, looking around her cute store with satisfaction. She’d finally opened her own shop just over a year ago, and business had been great. Cole had been supportive and encouraging when she’d told him she was ready to branch out on her own, and now she was the proud owner of her own antiques business.
“Hey, sweetheart.” The doorbell jingled softly as her husband entered the shop.
“Hi,” was all she managed before he pulled her into his arms for a long kiss. When he finally dragged his mouth from hers, she felt herself blushing. “What if a customer walked in?”
“Then they’d know how much I love my wife,” he replied with a grin. He gently touched her belly. “And our baby.” His voice became serious.
Love flooded through her. “Come here, Mr. Trask.” She curled her arms around his neck and tugged his head down, her lips seeking his.
“If the baby’s a girl,” Cole eventually spoke, his forehead resting against hers, “I think we should call her after you.”
“And if he’s a boy?” she teased. “Should we name him after you?”
“I’m sure she’s going to be a girl,” he said confidently, his fingers brushing her belly.
“We’ve got another five months to go,” she pointed out. They’d decided to wait until she gave birth to find out the sex. Besides, at four months, having a scan to determine if the baby was a girl or boy was a little premature.
He grinned. “So I’ve still got you to myself for a little while.”
She stroked his cheek. “And I’ve got you to myself. In fact, I thought tonight I could model a new nightgown I bought at lunch. It’s … interesting.” She smiled mischievously.
His eyes darkened with sexual intent and he molded her body to his. “I can hardly wait.”
Cole’s love and desire for her had helped her to become confident with he
r fuller figure. Although her pregnancy had started to show, she knew her husband still wanted her as much as before. And when she “modeled” a sexy new nightgown for him, it was always a night to remember.
“How’s Mrs. Johnson doing?”
“Very nicely. She already knows how to work the register and she loves researching each piece.”
Mrs. Johnson was a matronly lady who’d always been interested in antiques. When Phoebe found out she was pregnant, she decided she’d need extra help at the store as her pregnancy progressed. And once the baby was born, she planned to stay at home for the first few months, just coming into the store a couple of days per week to check on everything. After that, she thought she’d enjoy working part-time. In fact, Cole seemed perfectly happy to be a stay-at-home dad on the days Phoebe came into the store.
“Good.” His lips claimed hers. “You, me and the baby. What could be more perfect?”
She pretended to think for a second. “Well, there is tonight, when I show you my new night gown. It’s silk and lace--”
He kissed her once more. “Don’t tempt me, sweetheart,” he said in that growly gruff voice that never failed to make her pulse thrum. “Otherwise I might take you here and now.”
“Promises, promises,” she teased, squealing in surprise when he crushed her to him before ravishing her lips. She couldn’t wait for tonight.
The End
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Thanks to Alysha Ellis, H.Y. Hanna, and Storm Chase for their help and support.
And thank you to my wonderful readers. I hope you enjoyed Cole and Phoebe's story.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Jenn Roseton believes that romance and happy endings go together. When she's not writing, she indulges in delicious gourmet chocolate.
