When the game finishes and Illinois wins, I put my notepad down and glance at Cole, who is snarling at the TV. His hair is a mess from running his fingers through it, and the overhead light glistens in his green eyes as they narrow. I can almost hear the wheels in his brain turning as he considers the playoffs, and going up against his nemesis. But he shouldn’t be thinking so hard in his conditions.
I touch his arm and drag his attention to me. “You okay?”
His face softens, making him look younger, boyish, the tough kid from my youth. “Yeah, I’m good.”
“So that’s your happy face?”
His grin is slow. “Yeah, fingers crossed we make it to the playoffs, and I get to go one on one with Burns.”
I have an instant tightening in my gut at that. “What if he hurts you again?” Too many concussions can be detrimental in the long run, and I’d hate to see Cole have any kind of permanent damage.
He links his fingers and cracks them. I cringe at the sound, and he gives me an apologetic look. When we were young, I always glared at him when he did that, but he never apologized or even pretended to be sorry.
“That’s a chance I’m willing to take.”
“It’s kind of a barbaric sport, don’t you think?”
“Nah, far from it.”
My gaze roams over his face. “Judging from your scars, I’d beg to differ.”
Something comes over him, fast, and he stands, his chair nearly toppling backward as he glances around the kitchen.
Heavy silence fills the air, takes up space, seeps under my skin. Uncomfortable in its wake, I follow his gaze, note his deadly stillness, along with the tightening of my throat as I wait for him to speak. I’ve clearly hit a soft spot. His scars are something he doesn’t want to talk about.
“I better clean up,” he finally says as he scrubs his chin. The rustling of the hairs reaches my ears, and I fight the urge to run my fingers along the hard angle of his jaw, tug him to me and hug him.
Happy for the change in subject, I jump up and say, “I’ll help you load the dishwasher, and then I’ll get going.”
“You don’t have to do that. You cooked and I didn’t really help.”
“There was nothing for you to help with.” I look at the few dirty plates, salad bowl, glasses, and silverware. “Actually there’s not much, and there’s no need to put the dishwasher on with so few dishes.” At home I’m always conservative when it comes to things like this. “How about we just wash and dry the quickly. Working together we’ll be done in half the time? Then the next time I cook, I’ll do it when there’s no game on and you can get more involved.”
“Okay, I’ll wash, you dry,” he suggests.
“How about the other way around, since I don’t know where anything goes?”
“Sounds good.”
Cole clears the plates as I fill the sink with soapy water. From the window, I can see the pool all lit up and the hot tub tucked into the corner. It looks so nice and relaxing. What I’d do to top off a long night with a hot soak. But I don’t have a suit, and even if I did, I’m not stripping down in front of Cole.
“Just drop them in here,” I say, and splash my hands in the bubbles, flustered at the directions of my thoughts. Cole steps in beside me, and his body brushes against mine as he sets the dishes into the water. The clean, fresh sent of him takes over my senses, and my pulse flutters in my throat. Electricity snaps between us, hot, volatile, impossible to ignore. I try not to show a reaction, a difficult task, considering his closeness, the way his body is pressed against mine and lighting me up like I’m one of the July 4th fireworks.
“Do you like living in this big place all by yourself?” I ask, a tactic to get my mind on something else other than his hard body and how every touch makes my sex flutter. I soap the dishes, and water splashes over my shirt. Dammit.
“Yeah, I do. I spend a lot of time on the road with the guys, sharing rooms, meals, and sometimes beds. Here, well, I can just kind of relax, you know?”
I turn to face him, and his gaze rakes over me, lingering on my T-shirt.
I glance down and, thanks to the water I splashed on to myself, see that my bra is visible. Damn, how many times am I going to embarrass myself in front of this guy? I turn from him, hide my chest and say, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were an introvert.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You like to unwind, relax and rejuvenate alone. Nothing wrong with that. I’m an introvert,” I say. “I prefer libraries and quiet spaces over parties.”
He frowns at me. “Is that why you didn’t come to mine?”
He noticed that I hadn’t come?
Jeez, I never thought I’d be missed by him, or any other guy. Like I said, men rarely pay me attention.
But Cole was paying attention.
As my gaze trails to Cole, I go on to explain, “Partly. It’s not that introverts don’t like parties, they just need quiet time to refill the well. I think almost all writers are introverts. Maybe that’s why I gravitated toward it after the accident.”
Cole tosses the dishcloth over his shoulder and gestures with his head. Something mischievous sparkles in his eyes. “Come on, I want to show you something.”
My body instantly goes on high alert. Yes, I’ve been checking him out like, a lot, but if he thinks I’m going to follow him to his bedroom so he can show me something, no matter how much I want to see that something, it’s not going to happen.
I put my soapy hand on my hip, wetting my T-shirt even more. “What exactly is it you want to show me?”
“Come on, it’s a surprise.”
I lift my chin. “Forget it. I don’t like surprises.”
“You’ll like this. It’s a big one.”
Oh, I just bet it is.
His soft chuckle curls around me as I give him the death glare, and when that sexy grin materializes, my nipples harden. “Don’t you trust me?”
“No,” I shoot back quickly.
He laughs. “Come on, what did I ever do to you?”
“You called me names, Cole. Mean names.”
He angles his head, his eyes softening. “I’m sorry. I never meant to be mean…not to you, Nina.”
My heart flips at the softness in his voice, the sincerity, the… What the hell? That can’t be real. This is Cocky Cole, and he must be playing with me somehow.
I clear my tightening throat. “A little too late, don’t you think?”
“Can you please just come with me?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because you won’t tell me where you’re taking me. Lord knows what you have in mind.”
That slow-ass sexy grin of his is making me insane, making it harder and harder to keep from just throwing myself at him and letting him take me wherever he wants.
“If you’re worried it’s my bedroom, it’s not,” he says.
“I never thought that,” I blurt out, but his brow arches, like he’s begging to differ. God, am I that obvious? A blush comes over me at my presumptuousness. Just because we kissed doesn’t mean he wants me in his bed. A little embarrassed, I say, “Then show me here.”
“I can’t.”
“Well—”
“Nina, are you always so stubborn?”
“That’s name calling again, Cole.”
“Jesus, woman.”
Before I even realize what he’s doing, he scoops me up and leaves the kitchen.
“Put me down!” I say and squirm against him.
“You’re going to want to stop that.”
“I will not stop.”
“Nina, I’m getting a hard-on again, so if you’re okay with that, go ahead and keep wiggling.”
OMFG.
“Oh.”
Maybe I wasn’t so wrong in thinking he wanted to take me to his bedroom. I mean this is the second time I’ve felt his hard on tonight. Then again, he’s been out of commission for so long, a grilled cheese sandwich would probably turn him on. The steak sure seemed to, and he was pretty excited about his sugary cereal.
“Yeah. Oh.”
He carries me down the hall and turns left. Then sets me back on my feet. My eyes go wide as I glance around.
“Cole, this is…amazing!” I walk around the gorgeous dark-wood circular library, a few reclining reading chairs near the window.
“My decorator thought I’d like this.”
“Don’t you?”
“I don’t read much.” He jerks his head toward the cabinets. “The shelves are still pretty empty. My decorator put a few books up there on hockey, and a few autobiographies. To give it a bit of a lived-in look. All for show, you know?”
“Oh, man, I could help you fill these shelves.” I run my hands over the bare bookcases.
“With your books?”
“Oh, hell no. Don’t read my books.”
“Why not?”
“Just…don’t.”
He steps up behind me, his body close enough that I feel his heat. “Because of the sex? Are you worried that I’d be peeking inside your brain, learning all about little Nina’s wants and desires?”
“No, it’s not like that. That’s all made up.”
“All of it?”
“Of course.” I turn to see him. “It’s fiction, Cole. No sex is that good, and no man is that good.”
He opens his mouth like he’s about to respond, then his lips curves downward. He bends forward a bit, as he releases a long, slow breath.
Next thing I know, he squares his shoulders and Cocky Cole is suddenly standing before me, a smile on his face, but it’s fake, grim, and reminds me more of young Cole, when he’d show up at our house unexpectedly, a little shaken up but trying to hide it.
To all the world, Cole had it all…but now that I think about it, maybe there was more going on in his life than he let on. Perhaps he was suffering from the absence of his mother. What kind of woman just up and left her two kids, right?
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s go finish up in the kitchen,” he says.
I follow him out and wonder what I said to flip the switch on his mood. To be honest, he’s all kinds of contradictions. Wild and alive, and thriving off the crowd at the grocery store, but mellow and…kind, when he’s here at home. Most of the time. While I liked seeing him in his element, giving autographs to the crowd and giving credit to his team, I sort of like this side of him a little better. When he allows me small glimpses.
I walk back to the sink as he’s putting a glass away, and grab the removable nozzle from the tap. I turn it on, but the damn things shoots out of my hand and soaks me with water. I catch Cole trying to stifle a laugh.
Oh, he thinks this is funny, does he? I wrestle the hose into submission and turn it on him. It’s freezing cold, and he yelps and jumps.
“Jesus, Nina!”
“That’s what you get for laughing.”
He tugs his wet shirt away from his skin, pulls it off, then I’m suddenly not laughing anymore. Nope, not laughing at all. Drooling would probably be a more appropriate word.
But I have no time to think about his hotness when he spins the dishcloth and snaps my ass with it. I yelp, and reach for the hose again, ready to give him another good soaking, when my stupid back twinges.
“Oww,” I whimper, and Cole goes perfectly still, every muscle in his body tight.
“Shit, I’m sorry Nina.” When I meet his gaze, there is deep-seated concern on his face. “I never thought.”
“It’s okay, it happens a lot.”
His brow pulls together, and he puts his big hands on my shoulders. He dips his head. “What helps?”
“Just rest and heat. I’ll have a hot bath when I get home.”
He looks past me, out through the kitchen window. “Why don’t you get in the hot tub? You can turn on the jets, massage the area.”
“I don’t have a bathing suit.”
“Hang on.”
“Cole…” I begin, but my words die when he disappears from the kitchen. If he’s digging out some bathing suit left by a former girlfriend, he’s wasting his time.
I glance out the window again, take in the warm glow of the pool and the hot tub tucked into the corner at one end of it. It really would be nice to soak in that thing, but that’s not going to happen.
I quickly finish washing the dishes, then turn to find Cole coming back, a bathing suit in his hand.
“I think this will fit.”
A little white tag is still attached to the one-piece suit. To be honest, I’m surprised it’s not a skimpy bikini.
“I bought this for—”
I hold my hand up to stop him. “I don’t need the details,” I say, and he lifts it for my examination.
“Do you think it will fit?”
I take the suit from him and check the size. It’s one size up from what I normally wear, but that’s okay with me. I’d rather bigger than smaller. “I think it will.”
“You can change in the bathroom if you want. There are towels in the closet. I’ll just finish putting the dishes away.”
“Thanks,” I say. I’m about to head to the bathroom, but turn back to Cole, who is now focused on the dishes. “Thanks, Cole, for…” I glance at the TV, the dishes from the delicious meal we shared, and the hot tub he’s offering me. “All this.”
He shrugs. “It’s the least I can do for my best friend’s kid sister.”
“Right,” I say at the reminder of who I really am to him. God, I have no right to feel so weirded out. I am his best friend’s kid sister, and don’t want to be anything more than that to him anyway.
I dash to the lavish bathroom, hurry into the suit, and wrap a big, fluffy towel around me.
When I exit, I find the door to the back patio open for me, and I slip out into the warm night. The lights are dim, and I follow the path to the hot tub and climb in. The warm heat wraps around me, and a small moan slips from my lips. Good God, I could totally get used to this kind of luxury.
I fiddle around with the buttons until I figure out how to put the jets on low, and the water sprays against my body, a gentle massage that can only be described as heavenly.
I let my lids fall shut, and try to shut my mind down. Now is not the time to let my piling bills, my hockey series or…Cole invade my thoughts. No, now is the time to clear the mind and just relax.
Seriously though, what would Jess say if she knew I was in Cole’s hot tub? I’m going to have to shoot her a text when I get home. She’ll want all the juicy details, even if they’re rated PG.
“Hey.”
I open my eyes to find Cole standing on the edge of the hot tub, a glass of wine in his hand. “I found the wine, thought you might like a glass to help you relax.”
I sit up and accept the glass. “Thanks,” I say, but my mind isn’t on the white wine. No, it’s on Cole, dressed only in his board shorts. At least they cover more than his underwear. Not much, but I’ll take it.
“I thought I’d go for a swim, stretch out the muscles, but I won’t if you just want quiet time out here.”
“That’s thoughtful, Cole, but this is your place. You can do what you want.”
The second those words leave my mouth, he scrubs his hand over his chin—a familiar gesture. His gaze roams over me, and heat creeps up my neck and into my face. I set the wine in the cup holder and sink deeper into the water, as I get pulled into a storm of want and desire. It’s dark out here, but I’m not about to take a chance on him seeing the hardening of my nipples.
He walks to the other end of the pool and eases himself in. I reach for my wine and take a sip as he slowly does a few laps. Although I’m not sure he should be exerting the effort when trying to recover from a concussion. I sit up straighter and watch his long, lean body glide through the water. I grip my stemware tighter, and agonize over the riot of need taking up residency in my stomach.
I shouldn’t want him as much as I do. This is Cocky Cole, who’s reached out and touched more women than Hallmark. But seriously, the last time I was properly laid was…never. I mean, I’ve had sex, just not good sex, and if his reputation is right, well…he can deliver—big time.
He surfaces in front of the hot tub, and I scramble back into my seat, but my reaction is too slow. He gives me that grin again, the one that says he knows I’ve been watching, and he doesn’t mind.
“I’m not sure you should be exercising,” I say.
“I know, but don’t worry, I took it easy.” He cocks his head, his eyes teasing. “Wait, you were worried, right?”
“Of course I was,” I say quickly. “You’re my brother’s best friend, and even if you were a jerk to me growing up, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”
“I wasn’t always a jerk. If I was, you wouldn’t have called me that night, remember?”
I cringe at the reminder. “Yeah, I remember.”
I’ll never forget the night I snuck out and went on a date with Kenny Foster. He was older and had a car. Cason didn’t like him, and Mom and Dad would never have allowed me in a car with a guy at fifteen. But he paid me attention when other guys didn’t. He was a fighter, a troublemaker, with a bad-ass reputation. No one messed with him, so when the bad boy paid me attention, I fell for it. That night, he drove to the lookout point, and told me to either put out or get out.
I got out—and ran.
“Yeah, thanks for that. I couldn’t tell Mom or Dad, and I didn’t want Cason to know. He would have gone after him, and I didn’t want my brother to get hurt.”
“I never told him. I promised you I wouldn’t, and I didn’t.”
I nod, really appreciating that he’d kept my secret. “Kenny ended up with a broken nose somehow, anyway.”
“Yeah, I know.”
My head jerks back and I catch the small grin on his face. “Wait…you?”
“Yeah.”
My heart stutters. “That was crazy, Cole! He could have killed you.”
“I’m still here, aren’t I?”
I shake my head. “I had no idea you did that to him.”
“You didn’t need to, but he needed to know if he ever put his hands on you or put you in that kind of situation again, he was a dead man.”
“Thank you,” I say quietly, my insides on a roller coaster ride. Cole went after Kenny for me?
He goes quiet and glances past my shoulders, his eyes are narrowed, like he’s remembering something from long ago. “I’m kind of going insane here, Nina,” he says, his honest admission and the stress in his voice taking me by surprise. “I’m not even supposed to be watching TV, but how can I sit around all day and stare at a wall?”
My heart squeezes at his loneliness. “I know exactly what you mean. Cabin fever is real, even in a mansion like this. At least I had Jess to keep me occupied though.”
“I’m worried that if I don’t swim and keep my muscles warm and active, I’m going to fuck up when I get back.”
This vulnerable side of him is messing with me head. I spread my arms over the surface of the hot tub, plucking at the bubbles. “The best place to warm your muscles is in here,” I say without thinking.
“Don’t mind sharing?”
Oh, shit. A half-naked Cole is going to slide in beside me. Well done, Nina. Well done. But how could I not invite him in, especially after seeing that little-boy-lost look on his face? This is harder for him than he’s letting on, and it breaks my damn heart that he has no one to help him. Where the heck is his father when he needs him most?
“Like I said, this is your place.”
He lifts himself from the water, and I take another big gulp of wine as he opens a plastic box beside the hot tub and pulls out a bottle of something.
“What’s that?
“Tiger balm. Good for sore muscles.”
He uncaps it and adds it to the water, and the scent of aloe vera and wintergreen fill the air. I breathe it in as he climbs in and sits across from me. Our feet touch, and I quickly pull my legs back.
“How’s the back?” he asks.
I take a deep breath and let it out slowly. I can do this. It’s not like we’re in the bath together. People get in hot tubs in groups, for God’s sake. No one’s having an orgy. Nothing intimate about it.
Then why does being in here with Cole, alone, feel so cozy?
“Good.” I spread my arms and brace them on the top of the hot tub. “This is so much better than a hot bath.”
“You can use it anytime.” A dog barks in the distance, and we both go quiet for a bit. “So, after watching the game tonight, any ideas for a story come to you?”
“No, not yet. I’ve been in kind of a creative rut lately.”
“How come?”
“I don’t know,” I say. “Sometimes it happens. I have to do other creative things and it helps the muse.”
“What do you like to do?”
“Watch movies, cook, just go for walks. Meet Jess for coffee.”
He nods and rakes his hair back. “That’s pretty much been my life for the last few weeks. Except for the cooking, and coffee with Jess,” he adds with a grin. “Maybe we can do those things together. The company would be nice.”
I take another sip of wine, and when I start to feel the effects, I set it down. “I better not finish this if I’m going to drive home.”
“I was thinking. Why don’t you stay here—”
“I can’t stay here,” I say quickly.
“Why not? I have tons of spare bedrooms, and if you’re going to help me cook, and not clean,” he says with a laugh, “we can start with something simple like breakfast. You might as well stay and avoid the commute. I have a laptop you can use if you want to get some writing done.”
“I…” I let my words fall off as I look at him. That little-boy-lost look is there again, giving me the sense that he doesn’t just want me to stay, but needs me to stay. He might have been a jerk most of the time, but he was there for me that night when I had no one else to turn to.
“It’s not a big deal, Nina. You’d have your own space. But if you don’t want—”
“I want.”
Oh, how I want…