by Amy Andrews
He hadn’t expected an outright rejection.
He hadn’t expected her to be so adamantly against him. Refusing even the possibility that he might know his own feelings and what he wanted. Sure, he understood falling in love in two weeks wasn’t the norm. He got that she and others might even think he was a little bit crazy.
But surely she could see it was possible.
She’d looked so certain, though; so sure. So distant. And he was worried sick he wouldn’t be able to reach her. As a rugby player, he knew all about obstacles. He knew how to dodge them and how to go around them and even how to bust right through them if required. He’d done it on the field, and he’d done it in his recovery with his injury.
But that wasn’t going to work here.
Reaching Jane, convincing her to let him be part of her and Finn’s life, was obviously going to require delicacy and negotiation and patience. Not something rugby players were known for. But he knew about persistence, about the long game, and if that’s how he had to play it, he would. If he had to leave here empty-handed and keep checking in on her, keep dropping by as a friend to visit her and Finn, show her he wasn’t going anywhere, show her he could be a constant in her life, be someone who was there for her and Finn, then he’d do that, too.
Now, thanks to Doug Swan, he could play the long game.
“Wade!”
Cole realized, as Tucker’s voice rang across the bar, they were inside Jack’s. Fuck…he really was distracted.
“I heard you got in this morning,” Tucker said as he came out from behind the bar. “Was wondering when you were going to get your ass here. Or are you too good for us now, with your fancy magazine shoots?”
“Ha!” Wade and Tucker did a manly shoulder-check hug thing. Followed by Arlo in his uniform and Drew who was also at the bar. It felt very déjà vu for Cole. Did these guys live at Jack’s?
“This is Cole,” Wade introduced.
“Yeah, we know who he is,” Drew said. “We thought he was a lost tourist the day he came in here, until he told us he was staying at your place.”
“A tourist?” Wade frowned. “He must’ve been very lost.”
Tucker grinned. “Then Arlo talked him into running a rugby clinic for the kids a couple of weeks ago.”
Wade cocked an eyebrow at Cole. “Was it the gun?”
“Screw you, buddy,” Arlo said, feigning insult. “It was my dazzling personality.”
“Okay, sure.” Wade grinned.
Cole smiled at the banter, but it felt tight on his face. He just wanted to leave already and get back to Wade’s. “I didn’t mind. Gave me something to do.”
They all sat at the bar, both Drew and Arlo moving one stool over to accommodate Wade and Cole in the middle. Cole propped his cane against the bar as Tucker resumed his place behind it and asked, “Beer?”
Both Cole and Wade nodded, and Cole watched absently, his brain ticking away, as Tucker grabbed four bottles of Bud from the under-bar fridge opposite. Cracking the lids, he put one down in front of each man, then grabbed one for himself and cracked it, too. The bar wasn’t very busy, only a couple of booths occupied.
“How do they toast in Australia, Cole?”
Cole raised his bottle. “Up your bum.”
There was a moment of stunned silence before Drew laughed, raised his bottle, and said, “Up your bum,” and everyone joined in.
A conversation about different toasts, which somehow vaguely morphed to football, ensued, but Cole was barely listening. All he could hear in his head was Jane saying people don’t fall in love in two weeks. It bounced around and around, getting bigger and bigger, a seemingly impossible task to refute. He understood it was a surprise for her to hear him say it, but it was the truth.
Question was, what if she never believed him?
“Don’t you think, Cole?”
It took a beat or two for Cole to realize three sets of eyeballs were waiting for him to say something. Fuck, what were they talking about? “Um…sorry, I checked out there for a bit.”
Tucker gave a half laugh. “That’s cool. We all check out when Wade rambles on about his glory days.”
“Bite me,” Wade said as he flipped the bird. He didn’t look too insulted, and Cole got the impression these guys enjoyed talking smack with one another.
“So…” Wade eyed him for long moments. As did the other three. “I get the feeling something was going down back at the house. With you and Jane?”
Cole didn’t say anything, but Tucker looked at him speculatively. “You and Jane are a thing, huh?”
Fuck. Now what did he say? He couldn’t say yes, because they weren’t a thing, as she’d been at pains to point out. No matter how much he wished they were. But he couldn’t deny how he felt, either. Surely it was written all over his fucking face?
Tucker laughed then. “Wow. You got it bad, huh?”
Okay yeah…all over his face. “No, I… It’s not like that.”
“Really?” Tucker took a swig of his drink. “Looks like love to me.”
“And you ought to know,” Wade butted in derisively. “With your PhD in bar psychology.”
“Oh puh-lease.” Drew rolled his eyes. “Tucker doesn’t need that. He’s been such a sap since getting with Arlo’s sister, he sees love everywhere.”
Arlo put his beer down. “Do we really need to remind me this bozo is getting with my sister?” he grouched good-naturedly.
“Yeah,” Tucker said. “Do we?”
“We do when you both react so well,” Wade said with a grin, tapping his beer with Drew’s.
Cole didn’t know that Della was Arlo’s sister until just now. He gathered from the subtext there was a story there, but clearly it was in the past.
“So?” Wade prompted, refocusing Cole on the issue at hand. “What are you going to do about it? You love her, don’t you?”
Drew sighed and shook his head. “Another dude who drank the Kool-Aid and wants to see everyone loved up.”
Arlo raised his beer to Drew. “It’s going around.”
Wade ignored them both. He appeared to be very happily drunk on the Kool-Aid. “So, what’s the problem?”
Cole contemplated keeping his own counsel for a beat or two, but that hadn’t worked out so well for him up to this point, and maybe a bunch of dudes might understand his dilemma. Or at least speak the same language. A couple of them were even in relationships, so they could have a useful perspective. Maybe even some advice.
“Is it because you live in Australia?” Wade asked. “Because long-distance relationships can work. They’re harder, sure, but if you’re both dedicated enough.”
“No. I actually have a job here now.”
“Yeah?” Wade’s face lit up. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’m talent scouting for Rugby Australia. There’ll be a bit of travel, but they don’t care where I work out of, as long as it’s in the U.S.”
“That’s great, man.” Wade grinned and shook Cole’s hand vigorously. “Looks like we’ll be seeing more of each other.”
Cole smiled. “Yeah, I hope so.” Even if he and Jane never came to anything, he wanted this job. Talking to Ronan Dempsey in Denver had given him such a buzz—much more than the prospect of sportscasting. The idea that he could help shape the Australian rugby landscape in the future by securing the best players from here and around the world was so fucking exciting.
He felt useful—valued—and he was raring to go. But it would be nothing without Jane.
Congratulations over, Wade quickly got back to their conversation. “And what’d Jane say to you sticking around?”
“I didn’t tell her. We got sidetracked by small things, like whether it was possible to fall in love after two weeks.” His lips twisted derisively. “And then you came along.”
“Oh shit, man, I’m sorry.”
>
Drew clapped Wade on the back. “Good one, dude.”
“Well, what are we doing sticking around here?” Wade stood and quickly drained his beer bottle. “We should get back so you can finish.”
Cole shook his head and stared morosely at his beer bottle. “I don’t think she wants to hear it, anyway.”
“She doesn’t love you?”
“I don’t know.” Prior to this, Cole would’ve said that she did, or she was certainly on her way. They’d been close, even if it had only been for a short time. And it hadn’t been one-sided; he’d lay money on that. “I thought maybe she did, but… She doesn’t believe I could have fallen for her so quickly, so I’ve gotta assume she doesn’t reciprocate—otherwise she’d understand where I was coming from. I mean, I get it…she’s a single mum. She has a kid to think about. Of course she can’t just dive into something headfirst after a couple of weeks. I know that. But I’m okay with taking it slow.”
“Does she know that?”
“I didn’t get around to telling her that, either.”
“Man.” Drew shook his head at Wade. “For one of the NFL’s greatest-ever quarterbacks, your timing sucks. Don’t ever take up couples counseling.”
Wade snorted. “Says the Dr. Phil of funeral directors.”
“It’s okay,” Cole dismissed. “We probably needed to regroup anyway.” It had given him a little time and space to think. He hadn’t expected this much resistance, and it had thrown him for a bit of a loop.
“Well, consider yourself regrouped.” Wade slapped him on the back. “Now, drink up. You got to get back there. You got to explain about the job, about how you’re sticking around and how you’re willing to take it slow.”
“Yep.” Tucker nodded. “You gotta give her all the facts. So she can make an informed choice.”
“And a little begging never killed anyone,” Wade added. “I’d have crawled on my knees all the way to California for CC.”
“Dude.” Tucker shook his head with a laugh. “You practically did.”
Wade grinned. “Right. And now we’re married with a baby on the way.”
Married. Once upon a time, that word had put chills up Cole’s spine. He would have seen it as an impediment to his career. Right now, he wanted to grab it with both hands.
“That’s what I want,” Cole said, although not even marriage seemed like a big enough commitment right now. “Marriage, kids…if she wants more. The whole shebang. If she wants me, I’m in for the long haul. I did tell her that.”
“You know…” Drew tapped his chin. “If Winona was here, she’d say we need a grand gesture.”
“Right.” Tucker nodded. “Talk’s cheap. Actions speak louder than words.”
“A grand gesture,” Cole repeated, chewing that over. Something to prove he was in it for the long haul. That he was committed to her and Finn and to making a life together.
Asking her to marry him would sure accomplish that. It might not change her mind, but at least she’d know he wanted all in. A sudden streak of inspiration hit him. He glanced at Tucker. “I don’t suppose you’ve got a pair of needle-nose pliers somewhere I could borrow?”
Arlo’s face screwed into a comic mask of what the fuck. “Um…I don’t think you know how grand gestures work.”
“No, it’s fine.” Drew shook his head dismissively at Arlo’s clear puzzlement. “They don’t always have to be a flash mob, Arlo. They just have to be personal. Something that has meaning to the other person.”
“Well thank you, Dr. Phil,” Arlo said derisively, “but when a guy says needle-nose pliers in relation to a woman, my handcuffs tend to get twitchy.”
Cole did laugh at that. For the first time since Jane had opened the door to him, he felt like all was not lost. Even if she did send him packing, he’d go knowing he’d left it all out on the field like the damn fine rugby player he was.
And let the cards fall where they may.
…
Jane was curled up in a stately wingback chair in the red sitting room with a hot cup of tea when she heard the front door open. She heard a male voice that must’ve been Wade’s, because it wasn’t Cole, but she didn’t have to see or hear him to know Cole was also in the house. She could sense him in her bones. It had been close to two hours since they’d left, and she’d pretty much cried for that entire time, with CC offering her both tea and sympathy in equal measure.
The last thing she’d expected to find in Credence, Colorado, was love. She sure as shit hadn’t been in the market for it.
But it had found her anyway.
And she’d thought about that a lot since Cole and Wade had left. She’d turned this whole shitty situation over and over in her head ad nauseam, starting with all the reasons she couldn’t be with Cole. He was from another country. She couldn’t just pick up her life—take her son out of America and away from his father and his grandparents. Tad would probably fight her in court over it, and she wouldn’t blame him. And then there was her business. She could run it remotely or install a manager, but she didn’t want to.
It was hers. She had built it up from nothing, and she loved it.
Then she’d moved on to how she could make it work with Cole. The compromises she could make, because goddamn it, she did love him, and did it make her such a terrible mom to want to be loved by someone? To have adult love in her life?
She could tell Cole she couldn’t go to Australia but she was willing to make a long-distance relationship work. They could travel back and forth. She could go there for a couple of weeks every three months. Maybe longer, if Tad stepped up like he’d indicated he was going to. And Cole could reciprocate.
That would be six times a year.
She could take Finn for a vacation to Australia—she didn’t think Tad would object to that—and they could stay for three or four weeks. Cole could have his vacation time in the states, too. So that took it to eight times a year, which could work out to be four or five months.
That was doable, right?
It would require a lot of juggling and meticulous planning, and even thinking about all those long-haul flights made her tired, but if they were committed? And everything went okay with the business and with Finn and Cole’s new job…
And if it didn’t?
She was back at square one with everything falling apart. With arguments and resentments flaring like spot fires as exhaustion exacerbated everything. And hurting Finn. She would be hurt as well, but Finn…? She couldn’t even bear the thought of what it might do to her little boy.
She glanced over to the doorway as she heard footsteps approaching. Cole’s footsteps. She slid out of the chair, sniffling as she dabbed at her nose with a tissue. God alone knew what she must look like. Her eyes felt gritty, the skin around them tight. They were probably all red, too, leaving little doubt to anyone but the legally blind that she’d been bawling.
He appeared suddenly, looking just as delicious as he had a couple of hours ago. His gaze travelled across the room, seeking hers, and she braced for his concern, but it didn’t quite reach her before it was distracted by the surroundings. Cole’s eyes flicked over to the drapes at the windows, then to the fireplace as his feet carried him into the room. As he got into the center, he looked up at the chandelier before he finally transferred his attention to the floor.
“Hell…Jane…” He glanced at her quickly before looking back at the parquetry, sweeping the sole of a shoe back and forth over the wooden surface. He crouched, leaning into his cane as he eased down, his hands caressing the gloss like a true connoisseur. He looked up at her. “It’s…” He shook his head. “Magnificent. You’re brilliant.” He looked around him again, using his cane for purchase as he pushed to his feet. “It’s amazing.”
Jane gave a half smile, pride swelling despite her misery. She ground her feet into the floor to stop herself from walking right
into his arms.
“You must be really happy with the way it turned out.”
“Yeah.” She cleared her throat because her voice sounded a little croaky after all the crying. “It’s far better than I even imagined.”
He tipped his head back to inspect the chandelier again. “The magazine people are going to love this.” Rainbows of light played across his shirt and danced down his throat, and god help her, she wanted to press her mouth there so badly. Lay her head against his shirt and listen to the steady thump of his heart beneath her ear.
“It should photograph well.”
Jane couldn’t take her eyes off him; she was powerless to look away as he stood under the magnificent specimen of Czech crystal craftsmanship. Given his own magnificent-specimen status, it seemed fitting. She watched until he was no longer staring up, his face slowly lowering until his eyes were firmly fixed on hers, and she was just as powerless to look away as his gaze roamed thoroughly over her face.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
No. She wasn’t. She should be. She should be on top of the world on the eve of the magazine shoot that had the potential to catapult her business into the stratosphere. She was broken.
“What if I did love you?”
The question was clunky and sounded awkward as fuck in this grand old room where people would have once spoken in subtleties, but the time for avoidance and pretending this was something else was behind her. The minute she’d admitted it out loud—to CC Carter, of all people—it was behind her. She loved him. Now she had to work out how to move forward.
He took a step in her direction. “Do you?”
“What then?” she asked, ignoring his question and the husky note in his voice, because her loving him was neither here nor there. And no, it wasn’t lost on her that the one thing that had seemed liked the biggest hurdle not that long ago—falling in love with Cole—was the least problematic right now.
