“And you can’t do that without getting married?”
“That isn’t the point, Lily.”
“I know, I know. I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Getting proposed to is a big deal for a girl. It all depends on the situation, on the atmosphere, and the way it’s delivered. We’re picky like that.”
“How did Sloan propose to you?”
Lily raised an eyebrow. “The first time, or the second time?”
Cole frowned. “How many times did he propose?”
She shrugged one shoulder. “Twice. The first time was in the bathroom right after I finished throwing up. I was appalled. I told him hell no and walked out.”
His mouth twitched, picturing that perfectly. “And the second time?”
The humor died on her face. The lines became soft. Her eyes glimmered with a happiness that shone only when his brother was involved.
“It was Christmas. He had this amazing speech prepared. It was beautiful. One of the best days of my life.” She grinned. “Like I said, timing.”
A soft knock sounded on the front door and Lily cursed softly. She turned and hurried to the front. Willa glanced up only once as her mother undid the lock and let Sloan in.
His brother was a big man, tall and lean in a way that seemed imposing and sometimes threatening. In the cramped little space of Cole’s office, Sloan radiated strength and confidence. He rubbed a hand through his pale hair and peered down at the woman in front of him the way some men eyed treasure, with wonder, greed, and desire. There was always something sexual and privately intimate about the way the two looked at each other that Cole couldn’t help feeling jealous over.
Sloan touched Lily’s face with one finger, said something that made her nod and then turned to his daughter.
“Hey sweetheart.”
Willa smiled brightly. Crayons rained into her lap when she raised her book for her dad to see. “It’s a purple frog,” she said proudly.
Sloan smiled with such love in his eyes it hurt to look directly at it. “Best damn frog I’ve ever seen.”
Lily elbowed him lightly. “Language!”
Sloan grimaced. “Oops.”
Willa giggled.
Ruffling her hair, Sloan peered through the short space to where Cole continued to stand. “Hey, everything all right? Lisa said you guys left in a hurry.”
Cole nodded. “Fine.”
“Uncle Cole was being a sissy,” Willa declared. “Mommy hit him.”
“Oh, well.” Sloan bent down and scooped the girl up into his arms. “I was just on my way to Grandma’s house to fix the lock on the kitchen window. Want to come and be my helper? I’m sure Mommy wants to hit Uncle Cole a few more times.”
Lily laughed. “I think we’re done here. I want to see my mom before I head out to Newburry.”
Cole frowned. “What’s in Newburry?”
“The apple orchards.”
Cole shot a glance towards Sloan before eyeing Lily again. “Aren’t the apples already harvested?”
“Yes,” she said simply. “But I want pictures of them.”
Cole just shook his head, not fully understanding the need to take pictures of bare trees, but then, he wasn’t the photographer in the family.
“Well, drive carefully. Most of the roads are iced over.”
Lily nodded. “Sloan put new tires on the Mustang, but I’ll be careful.”
They said goodbye and Cole watched them leave. An orange crayon under the sofa caught his eye. He tucked it into his pocket, making a mental note to return it next time he got the chance. Around him, the office emanated with a low, hollow echo of deafening silence. The gloom from outside mixed with the dark wood walls, navy blue carpets and the clutter of furniture squished into a hole in the wall made the entire place feel suffocating. Cole stared at the framed photo of Stan and Gabe on a rickety old rowing boat, holding a giant salmon between them.
The two had been friends and lawyers for as long as most people could remember. Cole had a feeling the only reason they hired him was so they could take weeks off at a time to go fishing. There was never any business to speak of. It was a wonder they hadn’t gone under ages ago.
But this wasn’t the life Cole wanted. He didn’t want to be stuck in a stuffy office all day, staring at dark walls and leering salmon while hoping the door would open and give him something to do. He deserved better. He earned better.
He thought of what Beth had said earlier that morning about finding something the town needed and offering that. But what could he possibly offer? There wasn’t much when the town shied away from change. It was why Willow Creek was so small and almost backwards in its way of thinking. Despite being one of them, anything he brought to the table might only make people turn away. Then where would he be?
Exasperated, Cole wandered his way back to his desk and sat and waited for something to happen.
Cole stopped by Produce and More on his way home. On impulse, he grabbed Beth’s favorite coffee, several boxes of pop tarts, apples—the red ones, because the green ones made her stomach feel funny—and sourdough bread because it made the best toast, in her opinion. The store was full of women and children hurrying about trying to get items for supper. There was the odd man in the lineup, a six pack and chips on the counter. Cole paid for his items and hurried home.
“Beth?”
The apartment was quiet. Someone, probably Lily had shut all the windows he’d thrown open earlier to let the smoke escape and he felt a stab of guilt for having forgotten to close those. If Lily hadn’t gone to get his things, Beth would have probably been freezing and all because he’d been in such a hurry to get away from her.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself as he moved deeper into the apartment.
Floorboards creaked beneath his weight, shattering the near silence as he listened for sounds of other life. Something about the quiet wrenched in the pit of his stomach, sending cold chills down his spine.
Had she left again?
Abandoning his groceries on the kitchen counter, he hurried towards the bedroom. The door was slightly ajar, the gap in between a dusky bluish black, like a bruise.
She lay on the bed, her hair a dark cascade of ribbons across the pillow. She was on her side, one hand curled lightly by her parted mouth. She didn’t stir when he padded across the room and drew the blankets around her. His finger smoothed the hill of her cheek. The skin there felt satiny and warm against his touch.
Maybe Lily was right, he thought. Maybe it hadn’t been the right time. The fact that she had returned, mind changed, said something. Maybe there was still a chance and he just needed to convince her. Clearly the sexual heat between them hadn’t frizzled out. Her phantom orgasm and the way she stripped him with her eyes was evidence of that. She still cared about him and that was all the foundation he really needed. He was a determined man if nothing else and if there was even a slight chance they could be a family again, he would do anything.
Leaving the room, he shut the door behind him quietly and tiptoed down the hall. He stowed away the things he’d bought and started on supper with only one thing on his mind: getting Beth Doan to love him again.
Chapter Eight ~ Beth
Beth woke to the rich scent of baked potatoes and herbed chicken. The lack of food in her stomach instantly brought her upright. Her mind craned as it had earlier that morning to pinpoint her exact location, and why there would be someone in her kitchen, cooking. But as the fog lifted, reality quickly took hold and she started.
Cole.
Casting aside the blanket she couldn’t recall tossing over herself, she slid off the bed and hurried across the room. The door she had left ajar was closed shut and she knew he’d been in there to check on her. Mentally, she cursed him as she fought to twist the knob between her hands without physically touching it. Giving up, she kicked the bottom of the door with sock clad feet.
“Cole!” She gave it another kick. “Cole!”
There was silence, then the hurried shuffle
of feet. The doorknob rattled and then the door swung inward. Beth jumped back a step, barely avoiding a broken nose.
She glowered at the figure darkening her doorway. “You locked me in.”
Cole’s head tipped an inch to the side. “It doesn’t have a lock.” His eyes widened as realization finally dawned. “Oh! Damn it. I’m sorry.
Letting it go, Beth peered at him. “You made it home. I thought maybe after you sent Lily to get your things, you’d forgotten where it was.”
His gaze flickered to the ground, but when he spoke, he had the decency to look her in the eye. “I needed to think.”
It annoyed her that she actually understood. A part of her had been relieved when Lily had walked through the door and not Cole. She hadn’t been sure she was ready to face him so soon. Not after his confession had rocked her. What had scared her most was the slight warp in the titanium steel doors she’d built like a fortress around herself the last four years. It made her wonder what if and nothing good ever came from that.
“I need to brush my teeth,” she said instead.
He took a steady step back. “I’ll go turn the stove down. Just gimmie a sec.”
He was gone before she could tell him that she needed to do it herself. She even stepped into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, hoping it would deter him. But the moment she tried to curl her fingers into a simple pinch around the plastic handle of her pink toothbrush, she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
The scarred skin on her knuckles stretched. The sting made her instantly relax her fingers. She sighed, looking down at the things she had taken most for granted—her hands.
A quiet knock alerted her to his return. She took a step away from the door before granting him access. He stepped inside, said nothing about the door being closed and reached for her toothbrush.
“I’m sorry about today,” he murmured, while squirting a glob of toothpaste onto the bristles. “I shouldn’t have left like that.”
Beth shook her head. “It was just as well. I’m not even sure what any of that changes.”
Sapphire blue eyes rose up and met hers with quiet contemplation. “Don’t you?”
“Well, it can’t, so I don’t see how—”
He brought the brush to her lips, silencing her. The gentle scrub of her teeth filled the small space with its sound. But it was the patter of her heart drumming loudly between her ears that deafened her.
Something in him had changed and every fiber of her body could sense it.
When he’d helped her the night before, he hadn’t held her so close his clothes whispered over hers. He hadn’t gripped the back of her head. He hadn’t kept such a tight hold on her gaze so looking away became a game of wills. Even the slow, gentle glide of the brush moving inside her mouth felt somehow intimate and sent tendrils of heat coiling in all the places their bodies touched. He held her captive in every way that mattered and all he was doing was brushing her teeth.
When he finished he scooped her hair off her neck as she rinsed her mouth. Shivers wormed up her spine to prickle in her cheeks at the simple brush of his fingers grazing her skin. He dabbed lightly at her chin and mouth with a towel when she straightened, taking a second longer over her lips. His free hand was still locked in her hair and the weight of it pulled her head back.
“Better?” he murmured.
Strands caught when she tried to nod. “Yes,” she said instead.
“Hungry?”
She didn’t bother trying to move her head this time. “Yes.”
He released her and she was startled by the protest that rose up in her throat. She wrangled it back as he turned away.
He led her to the kitchen where the delicious scent of food was stronger. She was motioned into a stool as he finished flipping the strips of chicken breasts in the pan and took the baked potatoes out of the oven.
“Fancy chicken.” She laughed.
The corner of Cole’s mouth twitched. “Only you have ever called plain ol’ chicken fancy.”
Beth grinned. “Well, it’s the way you make them,” she explained as she had explained a hundred times before. “Rubbing all those spices and fancy oils into the things. Never seen anyone put so much effort into a piece of meat before.”
“It’s all in the seasoning, you know.” He snapped off the element and lifted the pan off the stove. “Nothing tastes good without the proper amount of everything.”
Gingerly, he placed a piece of chicken on each plate. The pan went into the sink where it hissed in protest and issued steamed. The potatoes were done next. The tinfoil was peeled back just enough to cut a slit into the skin. White steam billowed from the gash. The inside was cut up with a fork and filled with seasoned butter. Then the tinfoil was refolded, letting the butter melt into the core. Each plate got a potato and a ladle full of steamed vegetables.
Beth watched him, watched his face, watched the concentration darkening his brows. His large hands moved with such ease over the items, arranging them just so on each plate. When he turned his back to grab cutlery, she let her gaze wander the width of his back beneath the cotton material of his dress shirt. It was still tucked into the waistband of his trousers, but the sleeves had been rolled up to his forearms and the first three buttons had been undone to show smooth, pale skin. Part of her wondered what happened to the boy she’d met in college, the one who lived in his ratty jeans and t-shirts. He hadn’t started wearing suits until he got the job at the law firm, but even then, it hadn’t been like this. Maybe it was the years of not seeing him, but there was a strong confidence around him that made her insides flutter almost girlishly.
“Are you hungry?”
Swallowing the thick puddle of saliva pooling inside her mouth, Beth nodded. “Starving.”
Cole moved around the counter with only one set of fork and knife in hand. He took the stool next to her. One foot rested on the bottom rung of her seat. The other on his. The position placed her between his parted knees. But apparently that wasn’t enough; he reached under her stool and took hold. She was reeled to him like a fish on a hook, and like a fish, she was powerless to do more than gasp and brace as she was drawn high between the V of his legs.
“Okay?”
Cotton-mouthed, Beth gave a jerky nod even though it was so far from okay.
This was not how he’d fed her the night before.
Unfazed by the rigid lines of her body, he stabbed a cauliflower with the fork and brought it to her mouth. While she took it and chewed, he cut up her meat into neat sized bites. And all the while, while she studied him, he concentrated on the task. Every so often, he would pause to offer her a piece of vegetable, but would go straight back to cutting her chicken.
“What did you do today?” he asked, finally offering her a piece of meat now that the slab was diced to perfect, even cubes.
Beth shook her head. “Nothing. Your apartment doesn’t give room for much and I couldn’t open the door to go anywhere.”
He paused mid feed and eyed her. “What do you mean?”
She licked her lips. “Well, you don’t have a TV, or a radio … you don’t even have any books, except law textbooks. This place is … empty.” The minute the words were out, Beth grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean … I’m not judging—”
His attention was drawn to the plate. He chased a broccoli from one end to the other with a look of deep contemplation and a dark frown.
“I’m not here much,” he justified quietly.
“Cole, I wasn’t—”
He raised his head and the look on his face was somber, but hard. “I’m usually at the office, or I practically live at Lily’s with the girls. I only sleep here. Occasionally, I eat here. But I don’t really live here.” He brought the caught broccoli to her lips, quieting her when she started to speak. “I can’t let this place be home.”
The morsel in her mouth slid down her throat like a lump of stone. It struck the bottom of her stomach and lay there, making her insides grumble in protest.
“Why?” she whispered.
The light graze of his fingers over her chin and across her mouth took her by surprise, made her jump. The area felt singed.
“You know why.”
Her heart flip flopped in her chest. “Cole—”
He pulled back and it shattered the conversation as easily as though he’d torn a knife through it.
“Do you still walk after dinner?”
The question derailed her. Her mind fumbled, taking too long to accumulate words.
“Sometimes,” she mumbled at last. “When I’m not working.”
“Do you feel like going for one after?”
She said yes, because the opposite of that word eluded her. She said yes, because he was giving her no chance to keep her feet balanced.
He finished feeding her, shoveled a few forkfuls of chicken into his own mouth, then led her to her room to dress.
“I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” he promised when Beth hesitated over her suitcase. “I’ll even do it with my eyes closed if you like.”
Beth tried not to flush.
“It’s not like you haven’t already seen me without clothes,” she murmured, more to put herself at ease.
Cole’s head moved in a slow, thoughtful nod. “Still do every time I close my eyes.” The low, gravely purr of his voice sent shivers rocketing under her skin.
The unadulterated confession hissed through her veins the way the hot pan had after being put in the sink. Her blood heated and her heart raced. But it also terrified her. He terrified her.
“Are … are you playing a game, because I don’t—”
Like he had all night, he distracted her by reaching past her into the suitcase and tugging out a soft, purple sweater.
“I always really liked this color on you,” he said, tossing the sweater onto the bed. “It brings out the green in your eyes.”
Laughter bubbled at the back of her throat, but he was reaching for the hem of her camisole. His long fingers were slipping beneath the material, bunching it, hiking it up over the waistband of her shorts. A fine strip of skin was revealed, littered with goose bumps. Beth’s breath stuttered in her chest. Knuckles dragged over her abdomen, bumped over each rib, climbed up the swell of her breasts. The nipples tightened to sharp points of desperation, straining for even a whisper of contact that never came.
Bye-Bye Baby Page 10
