Cole and Jillian (Pianos and Promises - A Novella Series Book 3)

by Peel,Jennifer

  I turned back around to find poor Nadia red in the face. It wasn’t fear in her eyes it was embarrassment. I could understand that. I was sure, like most girls her age, she probably had a crush on the superstar in our midst.

  I turned off the treadmill. “You’re making great progress. You’ll be bumping and spiking again before you know it.” I helped her up and tried to shield her so she would feel more comfortable.

  “That’s uh . . . that’s him. Cole Pendleton,” she whispered to me.

  I smiled at her. “Yes, it is. Would you like an autograph? I could probably score one for you.”

  “Uh-huh.” Poor thing was practically speechless.

  I made sure she got off the treadmill safely and we both turned toward a smiling Cole.

  “Cole, this is Nadia. I think she’s a fan of yours. Would you mind signing an autograph for her?”

  She moved forward a little toward him. “Will you sign my shirt?” That came out in a rush.

  “I would be happy to. You got a marker, doc?”

  “We have some sharpies,” Max butted in. “I’ll grab one.” He sounded too eager.

  While we waited, Cole was gracious as ever. “What grade are you in, Nadia?”

  She turned another shade of red. “I’m a junior.”

  “Does the doc here treat you okay?” He nodded my way.

  “She’s nice. I like it when I get to see her.”

  “Me, too,” he replied.

  It looked like it was my turn for pink cheeks.

  Max returned with the black sharpie and acted like a dog that had just retrieved a stick. I swore he wanted to be petted. By me or Cole, I wasn’t sure. Cole took the marker and said thank you, but hardly gave him a glance. He focused right back on Nadia. He wisely wrote on the back of her shirt, “Living the Dream” and then his signature. Living the Dream was the name of his most recent tour.

  His dream was kind of my nightmare.

  I handed Nadia her paperwork for the front desk and she walked slowly out, doing her best to catch her last glimpses of the man dressed not in comfortable clothes. He looked fabulous in his tight jeans and short sleeved western snap shirt. I bet he thought he was going to be ripping that sucker off and wow did I wish that were the case, but I tried to remind myself I was a professional, even if he was faking it. And I had a heart to protect—my own.

  There were a couple other patients and their physical therapists left in the gym, all doing their best not to pay attention to him.

  “How are you today?” I asked him like I would any other patient.

  “Ready for my treatment.” He winked.

  “I’m happy to hear that. Why don’t you have a seat over there?” I pointed at a chair near our exercise balls.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Aren’t we going to go into a room?”

  I shook my head no with an evil grin. “Today we are going to do some exercises to help that neck of yours feel better.”

  He moved toward me and leaned in close, to keep his words private. “Your hands do the trick just fine.”

  “Believe me, this will be better,” I lied.

  He walked his boots over to the chair and grimaced before he sat down. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was pouting. It was kind of adorable.

  I pulled a rolling stool over in front of him and took a seat. “So tell me, how is your neck feeling since our last visit?”

  He stretched it from side to side. “Maybe a little tight.”

  “How would you rate your pain from zero to ten?”

  “If I say ten, do we get to go back to the room?”

  “After moving your neck the way you just did, I would say if your pain level is at a ten, you are either highly tolerant of pain, or you’re a wimp.”

  “A wimp? Do you talk to all your patients like that?”

  “What do you think?”

  He scooted his chair closer to me. “I think you aren’t playing fair.”

  “Just doing my job.”

  “If you aren’t going to touch me, at least say you’ll have dinner with me tonight. I’m cooking again.”

  “Now who isn’t playing fair?”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Will you take no for an answer?”

  “If that’s what you really want.” He leaned toward me. “Is that what you really want?”

  “No,” I whispered.

  Chapter Eleven

  I found myself with Cole once again. This time he drove us out to what he promised was a secluded spot on Couchville Lake for a picnic. Secluded was good, considering who he was, but it was also bad, considering who he was. I had never been so attracted to someone, and it wasn’t because of his looks, though he was easy on the eyes, but he was so much more than that. Dalton was right. He had a gentle spirit about him, which surprised me. Had I never met him, and only judged him based on when I saw him perform, or some of the unflattering reports about him over the years, I would have thought he was loud and wild. But he was neither in real life.

  I looked over to him in the driver’s seat and really hoped that was true.

  He reached over and took my hand.

  I loved the feel of our hands together but . . . “I still don’t date patients.”

  He grinned. “What if I said I was cured?”

  “Then I’m either a miracle worker or you’re a liar.”

  “Let’s go with the first one.”

  “I’m not a miracle worker.”

  “Your touch has a magic of its own.”

  “Now you’re trying to sweet talk me.”

  “I hope it’s working.”

  I sighed. He was doing a fine job.

  He glanced over and squeezed my hand. “Tell me what I need to do so that you’ll give me a shot.”

  “I’m sitting next to you holding your hand.”

  “And you don’t know how happy that makes me, but you look like you’re going to jump out the car door any minute now.”

  “Cole, I like you, and honestly, if you weren’t you, this would be a no brainer.”

  “How can I be not me?” A smile danced in his eyes.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “You hate my job.”

  “Yes.”

  “And what else?”

  I thought for a moment on how not to offend him, but he needed to know the truth. I spoke more to the windshield than him. “Your past scares me.”

  He rubbed his thumb across my hand. “It scares me, too. And that’s why I waited so long to see you again. I don’t want to hurt you or anyone. And I wish I could promise you that I never will, but no one can give you a guarantee like that, darlin’.”

  I blew out a breath that made my bangs fly. “I know that.”

  “So why don’t we take it a day at time and see how it goes? I’m on a break right now, so no crowds, shows, or even red carpets. It will just be you and me taking things slow.”

  “I promised myself I wouldn’t go back to that life. I like my life. Maybe it’s boring, but I can at least be me.”

  “Doc, I wouldn’t change you for the world. I’m not asking you to give up anything. Only to see if maybe what we have together is worth taking a chance on.”

  “What if it is?”

  “Then I’ll consider myself the luckiest man alive.”

  “That’s sweet, but I don’t think I could ever be happy being the woman behind the man again. I hate evening gowns and smiling when I don’t feel like it. And pretending that everything is perfect when it’s falling apart.”

  He pulled into the parking lot and put his car in park before he turned and responded to me. I faced him and he rested his strong, smooth hand on my cheek. “What did he do to you?”

  My eyes began to water. I looked up, trying to make them stop, but Cole’s tenderness was my undoing. He leaned forward and kissed my forehead. “Talk to me.”

  His words opened my mouth. “Besides lying, cheating, and drugs, he broke every promise he ever made to me, one by one. Then
to add insult to injury, he blamed it all on me. He said he became who he was because I wasn’t enough.”

  Cole handled me with care. He ran the back of his hand down the length of my cheek. “You know that’s not true. Drugs and alcohol, they make you do and say things that aren’t real. When you’re in deep, you want someone to blame, anyone but yourself.”

  “I do know that. I don’t want to be that person for you.”

  He took my face in his hands and locked eyes with me. “Jillian, that’s the last thing I want. I know I can’t guarantee the outcome, but I promise you, I’ll do my best to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “How can I trust that?”

  “Little by little and day by day, that’s what my counselor and sponsor tell me.” He kissed my cheek and started a trail of them down to my neck. “I missed you,” he whispered in between kisses.

  With each kiss on my skin, I inched closer to him. “I missed you, too. But how can that be? It was one flight.”

  “I’m not going to question it. All I know is it’s real, and I’ve thought about you every day since.”

  I was good with that answer at the moment. My hands found their way up and through his hair.

  He kissed his way back up my neck. He stopped and his lips hovered over mine “Miss Jillian, can I kiss you?”

  I caught my breath and gazed into his yearning eyes. “I’m afraid if you do, I won’t want you to stop.”

  “Good thing I have all the time in the world for you.”

  That wasn’t exactly what I was afraid of, but I didn’t care when our lips met. I was happy to note it felt even better when alcohol wasn’t a factor. His lips were warm and tender. I easily melted into him. He kept the kiss gentle at first, but when I didn’t pull away, he coaxed my lips to part with his own. I gladly accepted the invitation. I wasn’t kissing him this time out of a desperate need to feel wanted. I was kissing him out of desire and trying to convey to him that I wanted him. Heaven help me.

  But it was him that ended the kiss again. “Whoa, darlin’.” He ran his hand through my now messed up hair. He leaned his forehead against mine. He breathed in and out and in and out. “That was better than I remembered.”

  “I was thinking the same thing.”

  “If we’re going to take this slow, I probably shouldn’t kiss you like that.”

  “Probably not, but what if I want you to?”

  He pulled back so our eyes could meet. There was a smile in his. I felt it in my own. “I’ve never been so tempted, but I plan on keeping my promises to you. Slow and steady, okay?”

  I nodded. I loved the care he took with me.

  He brushed my lips. “Let’s go eat and watch the sun set, since it’s your favorite time of day.”

  “You had me at let’s eat.”

  He smiled and kissed me once more, ever so quickly. If not, we probably wouldn’t have exited the vehicle. I could have kissed him for a lot longer. “Stay put and I’ll get your door.” He was such a gentleman. He hustled around, opened my door, and took me by the hand. He hardly let go through the evening.

  We walked hand in hand down the trail leading to the lake. He held the picnic basket he had come prepared with before he arrived at the clinic and I carried the blanket. Spring was definitely in the air, it almost felt like summer, it was so warm. Or maybe I was still heated from that kiss.

  We settled near the lake in an unassuming spot away from any passersby. The lake rippled with the light breeze and reflected the pink and orange hues in the sky. It set the mood perfectly. We didn’t eat at first. Instead, we took in the view as I leaned against him. He held me tight. Being in his arms felt so right. I felt at peace I could have fallen asleep. I had missed that feeling. He kissed the top of my head several times and ran his fingers over the bare skin on my arms. I tingled at the touch.

  “I want to know more about you.” I broke the silence.

  “What do you want to know, doc?”

  “Everything.”

  “That could take a long time.”

  “We have time, right?”

  “I’m betting on it.”

  “So let’s start from the beginning. First childhood memory?”

  “Riding a horse with my daddy.”

  “Do you like horses?”

  “What kind of cowboy would I be if I didn’t own a few? If you’re not busy, we could go riding this weekend out on my ranch.”

  “Are you asking me out?”

  “Since I’m no longer your patient you should get used to it.”

  “I think I could get used to you.”

  “Now darlin’, that sounds like a country song.”

  I laughed. “Feel free to use it. Speaking of which, when did you know you wanted to be a singer?”

  “I think my momma was sad she never had a girl, so she made me take piano lessons from the old widow woman that lived down the street. She used to smack my knuckles when I played a wrong note.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Probably, but I learned real quick not to make a mistake. She used to make me sing along with some of the songs I played. She told my momma I had a real talent, so Momma made me sign up for choir in junior high. My buddies on the football team teased me relentlessly. That was until they saw how many girls were in choir. I’m pretty sure that’s when I knew.”

  “You used music to pick up chicks.”

  “Is that bad?” He chuckled.

  “No, but that’s how I fell victim to my ex-husband.”

  He rubbed my arms. “I’m so sorry he hurt you. Someday he’ll come to regret it.”

  “I honestly don’t care now if he does. Do you regret your divorces?”

  “Nope. I regret my last marriage. I can’t have regrets about Melissa, she was worth enduring to have Brooks.”

  “That’s sweet. I know this is only our second nondate—”

  He chuckled.

  “But, where do you think it all went wrong with Melissa and Cassie?”

  He held on tighter and thought for a moment. “With Melissa, I think we were too young. Neither of us knew what it took to make a marriage work. I thought if I was doing my best to support us that should be enough. She needed more and I didn’t realize it. And her affairs didn’t help the situation.”

  “They never do. I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

  “Thanks, darlin’, but I should have been a better husband.”

  “So what happened with Cassie?”

  He let out a long slow breath.

  “You don’t have to talk about it.”

  “No, we should have this conversation.”

  I liked his openness with me.

  “By the time Cassie came into my life I was determined to make it work out. I gave her all the attention I could and then some. Problem was, it was never enough. And unfortunately we both had a bad habit of drinking too much. Mix in a lot of success and you had a recipe for disaster. Instead of drinking for fun to get drunk, that’s how I began to cope with the pressure. When it was all said and done, Cassie didn’t ever really love me. She just liked being the other half of what the media made us out to be. I was a means to an end for her. I’m not making excuses for my behavior. But if I could go back, I would have run as fast as I could away from her. Are you ready to run away now?”

  I leaned more into him. “I had my own disaster of a marriage.”

  “Do you regret getting married?”

  I thought for a moment and pulled his arms snugly around me. “No. I loved him, we loved each other for a long time, at least I think so. I’m not sure how far his lies go back.”

  “Would you do it again?”

  “Marry him or get married again?”

  “Both.”

  “If I knew what I know now, no I wouldn’t have married him. But call me crazy, I believe in love, so yes, I would marry again. How about you?”

  “I guess we’re both crazy.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Crazy was a good wo
rd for the whole situation I found myself in. It was crazy the next night when I looked over and there he was in my sewing room while I worked on my niece’s quilt. I’d never known a man to be so interested in how a sewing machine worked.

  He was fascinated when I wound the thread around the bobbin. “Wow that’s fast.” And it wasn’t bad when he nuzzled my neck as I finished up sewing all the squares of fabric together. “Do you think you could make me one?” His lips worked their magic on my neck.

  “Sure.” That came out breathy. He was driving me crazy. “What are your favorite colors?”

  He sat up straight. “You would really make me one?”

  “Of course. Why does that surprise you?”

  His eyes shined with innocent charm. “I’ve never had a homemade quilt before. It seems like a lot of work.”

  “They are.”

  He leaned in and stole a kiss. “If you make me one, I’m going to use it every night. Even on the road.”

  I smiled, but had to ask, “Are you going back on the road soon?”

  He shook his head. “No, but remember, we’re taking it a day at a time. We don’t have to worry about that right now.”

  “Okay. Tell me what your favorite colors are.”

  He grinned wide. “I’m thinking John Deere Green.”

  “Spoken like a true Southern man.”

  “Speaking of which, darlin’, why don’t you have a Southern accent?”

  “My family didn’t move to Nashville until I was ten. My dad used to work in D.C. until he decided to leave his analyst job for the government and join the private sector. I guess I was too old to acquire one.”

  “Hang around me long enough and you’ll be talkin’ right before you know it.”

  “Is that so?”

  He leaned in and brushed my lips. “Or we don’t have to talk at all.”

  I skimmed his lips. “Now you’re talking my kind of language.”

  A smile danced on his lips as they played an inch away from mine. “I knew that about you.”

  I felt myself blush. “I still can’t believe I kissed you on the plane.”

  “I’m not complaining. That was one of the best nights of my life.”