Trent had been up since the crack of dawn, dismantling what was left of the vanity unit, and now that it was a more “sociable” hour, Hale and another one of his mates, Sean, had come over to help tackle the tiles.
“I swear, you could show me a picture of the bathroom and nothing else and I could tell you exactly what year the house was renovated,” he added.
Trent was working on the backsplash section behind where the new unit would be installed. These tiles were smaller and more stubborn. Each one seemed to want to break into three or four pieces.
“That looks like a dog’s breakfast,” Sean said, shaking his head. “I bet this was a DIY job.”
“Isn’t this a DIY job?” Hale asked, continuing to make speedy progress on the floor. “We’ve got a plumber, a brickie, and a… What are you again, Sean?”
“Renovation enthusiast, mate. Jack of all trades.”
Trent snorted. “And master of none.”
“Still sounds like the opening to a joke.” Hale neatly chiseled away another tile and tossed it into the growing pile. “What’s the plan for the bathroom?”
“Liv really likes that high-end-spa look, so I managed to find some of those big slate tiles for the floor. Nick had a contact and they discontinued the style, so I picked up the rest of their inventory pretty cheap.”
“Got enough in case there’s any breakages?” Hale asked.
“I didn’t come down in the last shower.” Trent rolled his eyes. “No pun intended.”
“Says the man who didn’t turn the water mains off,” his friend muttered under his breath, and Sean stifled a smirk. Trent was never going to live that one down.
“Anyway, we’re going charcoal and white. Faux marble backsplash and countertop with brushed gold fixtures.” He’d shown some of the inspiration pictures to Cora last night and she’d enthusiastically approved…and then immediately started thinking out loud about what funky decorative items could add to the spa vibes. For a moment it was like they were connecting again…until she’d scurried off to her bedroom, book in hand. “Liv will be over the moon. I think she hated the bathroom more than anything else in this place.”
“I can see why.” Hale wrinkled his nose.
For a guy who spent most of his life in flannel shirts and work boots and who’d been wearing a man bun before it became socially acceptable, Hale’s taste ran surprisingly far to the champagne end of the spectrum.
“Actually, now that I’ve got your snobby ass here, I need your help.” Trent grinned.
He couldn’t sit back and let Cora be awkward for the rest of her trip. It was clear she needed a break from her life, and he’d overheard her Skyping with Liv earlier that morning and some very interesting information had come out: It was Cora’s birthday next week.
Hale shot Sean a wary look. “Gee, when he puts it like that, how can I refuse?”
Sean chuckled and went back to his work at the other end of the bathroom, the chink sound of his chisel hitting tile punctuating the air at regular intervals.
“I need Aimee’s help with a birthday party,” Trent clarified. Aimee ran a party planning business for kids—putting her bubbly personality and sweet face to profitable use, dressing up as everyone from Cinderella to that Frozen chick in order to make little kids’ birthday dreams come true. “For Cora.”
Hale raised a brow. “You know her customers are usually in the five to ten age bracket, right?”
“I know.” When Hale’s expression didn’t shift, Trent figured being vague wasn’t going to help. “Cora told me that her parents never allowed her to have a proper birthday party when she was a kid. Her parents are these hoity-toity types and they wanted to force-feed everyone caviar and gold leaf or some crap.”
Hale looked even less convinced than before. “So you want to throw her a child’s birthday party?”
“Yes,” Trent said with a confident nod.
“Okay, when’s her birthday?”
“Next weekend.”
“Seriously?” Hale scratched his head, his fingers disturbing his hair so it looked even wilder than usual.
“I know it’s short notice.”
“I don’t know if it’s even possible, but I’ll ask.” He sighed. “And you’ll owe the both of us beers.”
“Tell her I’ll do anything. Cora has had a rough time and…I want to help her.”
“I bet you do,” Sean said, laughing.
Trent wanted to be annoyed at the innuendo but really, what was the point? Anyone who saw him and Cora in the same room for more than five seconds would be able to work out that they were hot for each other. She’d blushed furiously as she’d caught Trent watching her that morning when she was unpacking the dishwasher, bending over in that floaty little dress that was a mere gentle breeze away from showing her undies to the world.
“Trent!” Hale snapped his fingers in front of his friend’s face. “Focus, mate. I said, what kind of theme do you want? Aimee will ask me all these questions, and she gets annoyed when I don’t have answers.”
Hale was so whipped—and so totally bloody smitten—it would be adorable if it wasn’t borderline sickening.
“Can’t afford to anger the girlfriend with the fairy outfits,” Sean teased, and Hale rolled his eyes. “They’re real mean behind all that glitter.”
“No shit. She’s scary when it comes to business,” he said. “Seriously, you think she’s all sparkle and lightness, but that girl has a five-year plan and a backup five-year plan and a fallback backup five-year plan.”
“And don’t even get him started on her ten-year plans,” Sean said with a laugh.
“You think I’m joking?” Hale grunted. “I’m not.”
“Which plan does marriage fit into?” Trent asked, knowing he was poking the bear. Hale wasn’t super keen on the whole marriage-and-declaring-one’s-love-publicly thing. Called it “a spectacle for people with more money than sense.” Somehow, Trent wasn’t sure Hale and Aimee saw eye to eye on that one.
“I thought we were talking about your love life,” Hale shot back. “And your weird child-adult birthday party plan.”
“It’s not weird.” He chipped away at another tile, looking up only when it became obvious two sets of eyes were fixed on him. “I thought it was sweet.”
“Sweet?” Sean asked, his head cocked like a confused cocker spaniel. He and Hale exchanged looks like they’d both smelled something bad.
Trent bristled. “What’s wrong with sweet?”
“Nothing, but it’s not…you.” Hale’s eyes were an almost black shade, so unnervingly dark that sometimes it felt like he could look right into a person. “You’re not falling for her, are you?”
“Don’t be a dickhead,” he grumbled, avoiding the accusation. “She’s only here for a holiday, so it’s not like that. And she’s a friend of Liv’s, which means I need to make her feel welcome.”
Neither Sean nor Hale looked convinced. In fact, they looked a hell of a lot like he was speaking total rubbish.
“Jeez, can’t a guy do something nice for a person without getting the third degree?” he muttered as he turned back to the backsplash. He drove his hammer down onto the chisel, and the tile splintered off an annoyingly small shard.
“All we’re worried about is that you’ve found yourself Rochelle mark II.” Sean frowned. “Did you notice that she really looks—”
“Yes,” Trent and Hale said in unison, although one was a lot more exasperated than the other.
“Okay, okay.” Sean held up his hands, still holding the chisel in one and a hammer in the other. “No need to get defensive. I’m just saying, I remember a very drunk, very belligerent Walters man—who is a real prick after a few too many Jägerbombs, I might add—telling me he was never going to make the mistake of falling for a fancy girl ever again.”
Fancy girl.
; That’s what he’d called Rochelle the first time he met her, when it was clear there was attraction but that they were about as different as two people could be. He was a salt-of-the-earth blue-collar guy and she liked little bags with spangly things on them that cost more than his monthly rent. She’d hated that her parents had dragged her to some sleepy seaside town, forcing small-town life on her when she wanted to live somewhere more glamorous.
At first he’d found her big dreams and lofty aspirations to be attractive—since he’d never had those himself. But eventually it became clear those lofty aspirations didn’t involve settling down with a man who wanted nothing more than to make a simple life by the ocean.
As a kid, he’d always assumed that a family would be part of his life—husband and wife and a few chubby-cheeked kids. But as he’d grown up, life had proved time and time again that you couldn’t trust anyone. Not even those closest to you.
“Cora is nothing like Rochelle,” he said, probably a little harsher than he’d anticipated. “She’s not going around looking down her nose at the folks here. She’s not thinking that she’s better than the rest of us just because she has her initials printed on her suitcase.”
Sure, she was fancy in that she came from money and lived in New York City and she did have her initials stamped on her luggage. But Cora was proof money didn’t make someone a snob. Because Rochelle’s money wasn’t the thing that made her a bad person… That was something much deeper.
And he could say, without a doubt, Cora didn’t have a bad bone in her body.
“Tread carefully. That’s all I’m saying.” Sean watched him for a minute longer and then bowed his head to start chiseling again. “Hale and I will pick you up off the floor again, but I’d rather you didn’t get to that point in the first place.”
“There’s nothing to worry about,” Trent said tightly.
He liked Cora. Of course he did—he might be the town charmer, but he didn’t want to get physical with someone unless he liked them as a person. Sexual attraction was one thing, but he needed more than that. The right personality. A few laughs. Call it a lesson learned or whatever, but he counted those things as critical these days.
Still, he wasn’t under any illusions about Cora. She had baggage, and apparently, she was rebounding… He’d chosen not to delve into that at the time, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to reciprocate in the information-sharing department. But all in all, it was a pile of red flags so big and so vibrant, you could see it from space.
So why are you planning her a party and thinking about her 24-7?
Good question.
“I’ll let Aimee know you need her help,” Hale said, moving the conversation on like the good peacemaker he was. “She’ll be happy to hook you up.”
Should he be worried that the thought of throwing Cora a birthday party, seeing that glorious smile break across her face like a foamy wave kissing the sandy shoreline, had him feeling all warm and fuzzy?
Maybe you need a little less warm and fuzzy, and a little more hot and steamy. Keep that balance in check.
For a fleeting moment, Trent wondered what it might be like to have both.
Chapter Twelve
“I can’t believe you’re back again so soon.” Maddy had a pile of books at her feet and was carefully sliding them into place on the shelf in front of her.
Cora had decided to get out of the house while the guys were working—all the banging and rock music blaring wasn’t helping her frayed edges. Besides, she’d already devoured her romance novel and, since she’d made things royally awkward between her and Trent, she’d had to settle for having a robust fictional love life instead of an actual love life.
She really wanted to clear the air—but every time she even thought about bringing up their kiss, she totally chickened out. Not because she regretted kissing him. No way! But because she wasn’t sure if she could handle knowing whether or not she’d blown her chance with him.
If he rejected her now…ugh. She wasn’t sure she could stand seeing him every day knowing that. Maybe it was easier to pretend it never happened.
“Actually, maybe I can.” Maddy added with a grin, “Those books are pretty addictive.”
“I’m hoping you have the rest of the series,” Cora said. “The author did this mean thing where she set up a bunch of characters and now I have to know what happens to them.”
“Oh, sequel bait. I both love and hate it.” Maddy slipped the last book into place and then motioned for Cora to follow her. “We have a few more by this author. If I don’t have them in stock, I can see if I can put an order in. How long are you hanging around?”
“Three more weeks.”
How had a whole week flown past already? How had it been three whole days since she’d kissed Trent like her life depended on it?
Dammit. Why hadn’t she been able to pull the trigger?
She liked Trent—both from a physical perspective and because he was a genuinely great guy with a big personality and even bigger heart. She was super into kissing him. The attraction was mutual, and they were both grown-ass adults in a private place where they weren’t likely to cause a scandal. Well, unless Liv found out. But really, did that matter so much? It wasn’t like they were going to defile her bed.
So what was the problem?
You’re scared.
It was true. Cora had terrible judgment when it came to how others felt about her, which caused her to make bad decisions. Besides, rebounds weren’t healthy, and she was still heartbroken over getting dumped, wasn’t she? That was a tough one to answer. The wound felt fresh, but when she thought about her ex she got…nothing. Numbness.
Maybe the thing that stung most was the humiliation of it all, rather than losing Alex. Did she want Alex back? Nope. Because he’d tried to blame it on her—all the times her mother interfered, every fight they had because of it. All. Her. Fault. But that wasn’t fair. She hadn’t encouraged her mother to interfere with her life. In fact, she’d told her on numerous occasions to stay the hell out of it.
So why couldn’t she let herself have a temporary fling with Trent?
“Okay, Firehouse Hotties…” They ventured over to the romance section, which was littered with a rainbow selection of spines and covers with everything from sweeping historical gowns to sweetly embracing couples to hunky half-naked men. “Ah, we’ve got two more in stock. The book you read is actually book three, and we’ve got one and two here.”
She plucked two books from the shelf and handed them to Cora.
“Thanks.” Cora grinned and hugged the books to her chest. No matter how old she got, she couldn’t stop that funny little habit of welcoming new books into her life.
“I hug my books, too,” Maddy said with a laugh. She shoved her hands into the pockets of her denim shorts, which were frayed at the edges, revealing miles of shapely leg and warm brown skin. She had silver bracelets that made chiming music when she gesticulated and three carved silver hoops in her right ear, as well as a stud in her nose.
Cora would kill to be the kind of woman who had that effortlessly cool look, like Maddy did. But alas, some people were born with it and some people, like Cora, were not.
“How’re things going at Liv’s place?” she asked. By now, everyone knew Trent was staying there and working on the place, and they were all sworn to secrecy.
“It’s…good.” Oh boy. Could she be any more of an awkward turtle? Cora felt her face grow warm enough to melt an iceberg, and Maddy’s dark brown eyes twinkled.
“God, don’t tell me he’s cast a spell on you, too?” She laughed and shook her head. “I swear that guy has some magical lady voodoo going on. Any female who comes within six feet of him is likely to catch it.”
There was no point denying it. Cora was sure her feelings were written all over her face, as usual. “Guilty. But I just got out of a relationship and it wa
s…messy.”
And humiliating. And heartbreaking. And infuriating.
“What happened?” Maddy asked.
“What didn’t happen?” she muttered. “Our lives were too different. His parents were…serious. His mother is a professor at Cornell and his father’s a judge, and they didn’t really approve of our being together.”
“Why not?”
Cora sighed and leaned against one of the bookshelves, still hugging her romance novels to her chest as though they might infuse her with some of that happily-ever-after goodness that she so desperately wanted. “My parents are high profile, but they’ve got reputations. My mother…well, she’s a fame whore.”
There really was no other way of putting it.
“Over the years, she’s pulled some stunts for media attention that were less than flattering. My father is more well-respected, but anyone in her orbit is thrust into the spotlight whether they like it or not.” Cora bit down on her lip. “My ex came from old money. Like, serious old money. They looked down on us.”
“That’s horrible.” Maddy wrinkled her nose and folded her arms across her chest. “And he broke up with you because his parents didn’t like your family.”
“It wasn’t entirely that,” she said with a sigh.
God, should she even be telling Maddy about all this? Airing dirty laundry was so not her style. But frankly, she needed to get it off her chest. She’d been carrying this shameful secret from the moment Alex called off the engagement, and it was weighing her down.
“My mother put a lot of strain on my relationship with my ex,” she said. “But I guess I’d been around her antics so long that I was used to her needing to be the center of attention. I was even used to seeing her hit on other men for attention, knowing she didn’t actually want sex from them. She just wanted to feel beautiful.”
Maddy cringed. “Oh God, tell me this isn’t going where I think it’s going.”
Her Aussie Holiday Page 12
