He turned toward her and placed a delicate kiss on her forehead. “You’re right about that.”
For the first time, he stayed the night.
Chapter Thirteen
Cole knew he wasn’t in his own bed. The mattress was a bit softer than his, as was the pillow. He opened his eyes and saw her, the woman he’d been spending an awful lot of time with lately.
“Good morning.” Rachel was on her side, facing him. “When do you have to be at work?”
“Doesn’t matter.” He didn’t give a shit right now, not when he was in Rachel’s bed. Plus his office was his living room.
“That’s right. You work from home. Must be nice.”
“It is. Unless you’re one of those people who go crazy if they spend all their time in the same place.”
“It would probably get to me after a week, to be honest. But you don’t mind?”
“I much prefer it over going into an office.” He shuddered as he remembered the job that had required him to do that. All the mindless chitchat and office politics.
“I don’t work on Mondays. I usually go for a run first thing in the morning, but I’m flexible.”
He looked at her alarm clock. It was eight fifteen.
Screw his careful nine-to-five-thirty schedule. As long as he got in a few hours today, it would be fine. Better to spend some of that time inside Rachel, instead.
But to his surprise, she didn’t bring his hand between her legs, didn’t wrap her hand around his cock.
“What did you study in school?” she asked. “I assume you went to university? Did you study education?”
Fine. They could talk for a little, if that was what she wanted. She understood who he was. He wouldn’t frighten her off by acting like himself. He didn’t need to censor himself around her. Not that he ever bothered doing that, anyway, but at least he didn’t feel like she expected him to try.
“Could you imagine me in a classroom as a student teacher?” he asked, shaking his head. “That would be so goddamn frustrating. The kids would drive me up the wall.”
“Yeah, I can’t quite imagine it. But sometimes I think the whole I-hate-people thing you have going on is a bit of an act.”
“Well, I don’t hate all people.”
“Do you get along with your mother?”
“Sure,” he said. “As well as most people get along with their mothers.”
“And you get along with me okay.”
“I do.”
He usually kept people at a distance—his mom was right about that—but somehow Rachel had managed to weasel her way into his life.
And he was happy that she had.
It was hard for him to admit that he liked someone other than his mother and stepfather. It was easier to say he hated everyone. Doing otherwise… It made him vulnerable, like his mother had been. So many people quickly proved they weren’t worthy of his trust.
“I have trouble trusting people,” he said. “Lots of people are pieces of shit, even if they act otherwise at first. Or they play nice just to get something from you.”
“Yeah, I know all about that. Before I met you, I was getting tired of sleeping with men who couldn’t say anything good about me. But I know that, unlike so many other people in this town, you won’t talk about me behind my back.”
Although he might not have admitted it at the time, it hadn’t taken long for him to trust Rachel. She might not fit many people’s view of a good person, but she fit his. She was a no-bullshit, honest person, and he respected her. He respected her even more for the way she’d reacted when he’d made those inane comments back on the McNeil Trail.
He couldn’t imagine his good opinion of her ever changing, and it meant something to him that she respected him, too.
But he didn’t say any of that. He couldn’t. It was pretty damn mushy for him.
“You know,” she mused, “I don’t think you’re quite as straightforward as you claim to be. You present a bit of a false image to the world. You pretend to be more of an asshole than you really are. You’re actually a decent person.”
He grunted. “You might be the only one who thinks so.”
“Because you don’t give anyone else a chance to like you, and you don’t give yourself a chance to get close to people.”
True. Those trust issues. The whole keeping-people-at-a-distance thing. He’d never thought of it as meaning he wasn’t straightforward, though. That what you saw wasn’t exactly what you got with him.
Perhaps he was a little like his father, in the way he controlled how the world saw him. But instead of convincing people he was a stand-up guy when he was really an asshole, Cole did the opposite. He did his best to convince people they shouldn’t like him.
“Is this what happens whenever a guy sleeps over at your place?” he asked. “Some kind of early morning psychoanalysis?”
“No.” She chuckled, then added quietly, “I never give men a chance to stay the night.”
Oh.
Cole remembered being disappointed when he heard she slept around, because that meant he wasn’t special to her. But apparently he was.
He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about that, now. Part of him was disturbed and sending out warning signals. But his male pride was pleased. And it wasn’t just that. A part of him was practically overjoyed.
What the hell?
He rolled Rachel onto her other side and held her from behind, not wanting to look into her eyes.
“So, back to the original question,” she said, snuggling back against his chest. “What did you study in school?”
Good. This was easier.
“Math. Computer science.”
“Where?”
“Toronto.”
“Is that where you’re from?”
“No. Ottawa.” Well, that was where he’d spent the better part of his childhood. “This feels like Twenty Questions.”
“I’m just curious. It’s weird not knowing much about you when we’re sleeping together.”
“I thought you were used to the whole casual sex thing.”
“But usually I sleep with men who’ve lived in Georgeville for years. I don’t have to ask them questions because I already know the answers.” She curled her hand around his and held it between her breasts. “I thought you hated cuddling. And yet we’re doing it right now, and you don’t seem to mind.”
He shifted behind her, but he didn’t withdraw.
Jesus. She was right. They were snuggled up in bed, talking. And it wasn’t awkward, as it had been for him in the past. He wasn’t itching to get back to his apartment, and he was actually content to stay like this rather than have sex. For a little while, anyway.
As long as she didn’t say things that made him feel as though he had something in common with his father. He didn’t like those uncomfortable emotions he’d experienced a couple of minutes ago.
“Did you grow up here?” he asked.
“Yes. I’ve lived here my whole life.” She sighed, and in that sigh, he heard regret.
“Where do you wish you could go?”
“Ottawa or Toronto. I’ve visited them, but I want to actually live in a big city. A place where I can eat sushi and drink cappuccinos and craft beer. A place where everyone doesn’t know my name. Where everyone doesn’t gossip about my sex life.”
He tensed, remembering how Rick had spoken about her.
“You know,” he said slowly, “you don’t exactly present a false image, but I think you play up your reputation a little.”
She laughed ruefully. “Doesn’t matter what I say and do. People will only see me one way. And now that I’m planning to leave, I’m kind of enjoying playing it up.”
“How serious are these plans?”
“I’m going to Toronto next week to look at apartments.”
He sensed she had more to say, but she was quiet for a minute. She brushed her thumb over his, and he waited for her to speak.
“I’ve wanted to leave for years,” she
said, “but I’ve put it off for so long because I’m scared to go somewhere different, somewhere I know no one. I know it seems stupid to be so scared. But few people leave Georgeville. We grow up here and we stay. We’re stuck in this sad, pathetic little town because it’s all we know. I hate it. There’s one bar, one restaurant, one bakery. Most businesses can’t survive. It’s suffocating.”
When she admitted she wasn’t as tough as she seemed, it was like wrapping his hand around her heart and reaching inside.
He didn’t know what to say. “It’s great to hear those things about the town I just moved to.”
“Oops.” He could sense her smile as she shifted against him. “I forgot about that. Do you love it here? Is it everything you dreamed it would be?”
“Everyone’s always trying to talk to me. I never get any goddamn peace.”
She snickered. “Sorry for trying to be friendly.”
“I don’t mind when it’s you,” he said. Not anymore. Then he got serious. “But I’m not sure I’ll stay once my lease is up. I’m not attached to this town, but I prefer living here to living in Toronto.”
“You want to buy a house, right? Houses go for pretty cheap in Georgeville because no one wants to live in this shithole.”
“You seem to have a lot of repressed anger. Not something I know much about, because I don’t bother repressing it.”
She laughed, and he was suddenly filled with longing to hear that sound over and over. He’d never been the guy who could make people laugh—never been the guy who even tried—but that was what he wanted right now.
Crap. He was really losing it.
“I want a house with a white picket fence,” he said.
“Really? That’s not what I would’ve expected.”
“I suppose you thought I’d be the old man who lives in a creepy mansion and yells at any kid who dares to step foot on his property.”
“You’d make a great old man.”
“I’ve often thought that myself.” He paused. “But I don’t want the wife and kids. I just want the fucking house. Vegetable garden out back, flower garden out front. I’d have the prettiest roses.”
He felt his cheeks grow warm. He had never told anyone that before. Even though he was just talking about owning a damn house, it felt personal.
“Yeah?” she said. “You want roses?”
“I’ve always liked roses,” he admitted, ignoring the slight embarrassment. “They can’t talk, and they’re thorny. We understand each other. I’d yell at the kids for stepping on my flower beds.”
She laughed again, and they were quiet for a moment. He nestled his chin in the crook of her neck and breathed in the scent of her. She smelled faintly of coconut. Perhaps it was her shampoo. Coconut—it didn’t belong in Georgeville.
Her back felt soft against his chest, and he had the fleeting—and shocking—thought that this was where she belonged. Next to him. Just like this.
“Part of the reason I’m scared to leave,” Rachel said quietly, “is that I’m afraid the big city won’t live up to my dreams. Isn’t that pathetic? I’m scared to learn that my life here is as good as it’ll ever be.”
“Don’t say that.” He wanted her to be optimistic, even if he was a pessimist.
“For so long, I decided I’d rather keep it as a fantasy than have it crushed by reality. I want everything to work out perfectly, just like in the books I read. And yet, I know that can’t happen. But I’m finally going to take the risk.”
“Do you read a lot?” He looked around her bedroom. There were a bunch of bookshelves he’d never noticed before. Probably because he always had something better to do in her bedroom than study the furniture.
“Yes,” she said. “I like to read. Surprising, isn’t it?”
He frowned. “No. Why?”
“I guess you don’t see me like everyone else does. The people who’ve lived here for a long time and just think of me as a loser—they’re surprised. And that’s part of the reason I chased after you at the beginning. Because you didn’t have all those preconceived notions of who I am and what I can be.”
Cole wished he could whisk her away to the city and have it be perfect for her. He honestly didn’t know how she could stand it here, under those circumstances.
But she turned the conversation to something else.
“You said something the other day that bothered me. You said you ruined your mom’s life.”
Oh. That.
What should he say?
“Having a baby screws up a seventeen-year-old’s life pretty badly,” he began. “Especially when her parents kick her out of the house.” He simmered with rage whenever he thought of the grandparents he’d never known. “She felt she had nowhere to go but to the jerk who’d knocked her up.”
“But that isn’t your fault.”
“No. But my existence still screwed up her life.” He reached up and brushed a lock of Rachel’s hair behind her ear. “Are you trying to psychoanalyze me again, or some shit like that?”
“Yes, I’m going to try to fix you. But I don’t think it’ll work. You’ll just yell at me to get off your damn lawn.”
“You know what I like?” he said with a smile. “You tease me. Very few people feel comfortable enough with me to do that.”
“Gee, I wonder why.”
“It’s a great mystery.”
No, the great mystery was why he’d just told her that he liked when she teased him. Telling a woman what he liked about her? That wasn’t the kind of thing he did.
“So what happened?” she asked. “To you and your mom?”
Hell. Right. That’s what they’d been talking about. His favorite subject—his glorious childhood.
He pushed out a breath. “I was born, and we lived with my father, who was ten years older than my mother and an abusive piece of shit. It was mainly directed at her, not me.” Cole figured that was why she’d lasted so long with the man. He suspected she would have left a lot sooner had the beatings been directed at her child. “After five years, she’d saved enough money for us to escape and start over. We left in the middle of the night.”
“Your father—did he come looking for you?”
“Not that I know of. My mom figured as long as we got out of Winnipeg, he wouldn’t bother.” It wasn’t like his father had cared about his kid, and he would’ve been happy enough finding some other naïve young woman to replace his mom. His father had been handsome and charming, and he’d done it many times before. “My mom went all the way to Ottawa because she had a friend who’d moved there, and she wanted to get far away from her old life.”
Cole remembered her waking him up in the middle of the night, promising him a whole box of Smarties—not the little boxes he got at Halloween, but a big one—if he would stay quiet. She’d said they were going on a great adventure. And even in the couple of days they’d spent driving across northern Ontario—rocks and trees and nothing else—it had seemed exciting.
“We’re going to do it,” she’d said. “Just me and you. We’ll make it.”
He hadn’t been entirely sure what was going on, but his mother was there and she seemed so sure that this was going to be good. And she’d been happy. So happy to get away.
Though thinking about it now, she’d probably been terrified, too.
“Your mom’s very pretty,” Rachel said.
“It runs in the family, don’t you think?”
She poked his stomach with her elbow. “Did she meet someone else?”
“I have a stepfather. They married when I was seventeen. A couple of stepsisters, too, but I don’t know them very well.” He paused. “What about your family?”
“My parents live in Georgeville. So does my sister and her son. There’s not much to tell, really. We’re a pretty typical family.”
“Aunts and uncles? Cousins?”
“Yeah. I have lots of family around here.”
When Cole was younger, he’d wanted that. Everyone seemed to have lots o
f family—everyone except him. He’d had no brothers or sisters, no cousins. His mom said he’d asked for a baby brother for Christmas the year after they moved to Ottawa.
But now he didn’t mind. Honestly, compared to the fucked-up family problems some people had, he’d actually lucked out.
“My mother asked about you,” he said.
“And what did you tell her? That we’re fucking like rabbits every day?” She wiggled her butt against him.
“Oh, yeah. That would have gone well. No, I just said you’re my neighbor. She was disappointed by that.”
“Hmm. She pestering you for grandkids?”
“She’s convinced I would be in a wonderfully happy relationship right now if it hadn’t been for my father and all that crap. She blames herself for not getting us out of there sooner.”
Rachel turned in his arms so she was looking up at him. She put her hand on his jaw and smiled, and there was something about that smile that hit him right in the gut.
“Well, I think your mom did a good job,” she said.
“By unleashing me on the world?” He rolled his eyes. He needed to defuse the emotion building up inside him. “Yeah, she totally did.”
“I mean it, Cole.”
He moved on top of her and dropped his mouth to hers. “I’ve had enough of this talking business.”
They didn’t get out of bed for almost two hours.
But for the rest of the day, it wasn’t the sex he thought about. No, he recalled their conversation and just being in bed with Rachel, holding her.
Having a leisurely morning in bed with a woman—he’d never done that before. He’d done his best to avoid it. And now he wondered if that had been a mistake. Maybe he could have enjoyed snuggling up with a woman, not just today, but many times in the past.
He didn’t think so, though. It was just with Rachel. It had been awkward with Kara and Karla in the moments after they had sex. It would never have been the same with them.
It wasn’t that every single minute of his conversation with Rachel had been fun. But there was a frankness to it that he liked, a closeness—both physical and otherwise.
Damn. There had been something missing in his life.
Tempting Her Neighbor (a Georgeville novella) Page 9
