Skye

 

It’s early Thursday afternoon, and I’m enjoying a rare day off. I’m now working as a floating EMT for the department. This means I work wherever I’m needed, and since I’m trying to distract myself as much as I can, this has meant working multiple shifts in a row. My plan for the day is to laze on the couch until Princess Penny gets home from school, then we’re going to walk to the park and feed the ducks.

It’s fair to say it’s been so much harder than I thought not to think about Cohen. I miss him so damn much that it’s affecting every part of my life. I spent three days alternating between sulking, second-guessing the play I had to make, and lamenting the loss of how free I felt whenever I was with him. Cohen let me be myself and I didn’t have to hide anything.

Vinnie even offered me his twenty-year-old scotch one night and—drunk as a skunk—I ended up confessing everything, including the admission that I’ve probably been in love with Cohen Cook for longer than just the last two months—maybe even since the day we first met.

I was never just the “little Rossi sister” to Cohen; he treated me as an equal in every possible way.

Then Christmas Day happened, and the rest—as they say—is history.

I’ve read every single text he sent me, listened to the voicemail messages where he’s apologized, and begged me to talk about things when I was ready. Then his messages turned into simple updates about his day, from telling me my brothers were giving him a wide berth, to his relief that Corey was working as his partner until I came back. Until I came back. I love hearing him say that, like he knows it’s a foregone conclusion we’ll be together again soon. It gives me hope that this forced separation will be shorter than I expect.

Although I am disappointed he hasn’t taken more drastic measures. Would it have hurt him to stalk me even a little bit? Or beat down Dion and Vin’s door demanding to see me then hoist me over his shoulder caveman-style? Maybe hold me captive as his sex slave and screw me into submission? A girl can only dream, right?

My plans to be a couch potato for the day change when Dion comes home early from work and demands I get up, make myself look hot, and be ready to leave in twenty minutes.

“Even I can’t work miracles that quickly, D,” I moan.

“Believe me,” he says, looking me up and down, “you look cute even in those ripped sweatpants and ratty hoodie, but you’re going to want to look as hot as you can.”

I narrow my eyes on my best friend, trying to get a read on whatever he’s got planned, but his face is a blank mask. “What’s going on, D?”

“Please trust me, my Skye. I desperately want to see you smile again—and for you to stop moping on my couch—and in order to make that happen, I made a deal with the devil. That means you need to fluff your hair up, sex-kitten those big eyes of yours, and make sure any red-blooded straight man—hell, gay man too—walks into a damn wall when they catch sight of you.”

“D, please tell me where we’re going.”

“Nope. Just do as I say, and I won’t have to be an accomplice to kidnapping. I look good in anything, but I’m not sure Vin would be happy with weekly conjugals.”

My mouth drops open. “Dion! What on earth does that mean?”

“Get. Dressed. Skye. And all will be revealed.”

Twenty-three minutes later, I’m sitting behind the wheel of Cohen’s car, which I walked out of Dion and Vinnie’s brownstone to find parked by the sidewalk. The Camaro—his baby—the one he doesn’t let anyone drive. Dion just handed me the keys and told me to hop in.

Shock? That’s one emotion.

Surprise? That’s what I feel when Dion subsequently admits Cohen has been checking up on me every few days for the past two and a half weeks, ever since I ended things and dumped him as a work partner, bed buddy, and best friend all at the same time.

And lastly, I’m paralyzed by fear—not for whatever Cohen is up to. No, I’m terrified of turning the key and starting the engine, because if I move the car, then I risk putting even the smallest of scratches on it, then I’ll ruin whatever Cohen’s got planned.

And by God, do I want to find out exactly what that is, except I have absolutely no idea where I’m supposed to be going.

I turn to the passenger seat where Dion is leaning back against the leather interior, looking straight at me, a half-smirk curving his lips.

“You’re totally shitting yourself, aren’t you?” he says.

“Am not,” I say, white-knuckling the steering wheel.

“Then why haven’t you turned the car on yet?”

I let go of the breath I’m holding with a loud huff. “He doesn’t let anyone drive his baby. He said so himself. I’m just… I can’t believe he just gave you the keys and said I could drive it. Are you sure you didn’t steal it in some weird retaliation for him breaking my heart? Because—granted—that would be a new level of wicked, even for you, but I don’t think I’m that spiteful.”

Dion rolls his eyes. “And yet, here you are,” he says, sweeping his arm out. “But no, I did not steal it. Glad to see you hold me in such high regard.” His lips tip up into a wry smile.

I turn to look at one of the few people outside of my family who know me through and through. The other one owns this car. “Why would he give me the keys to his pride and joy? I don’t get it.”

Dion reaches over and covers my hand. “Today, your job is to just do what you’re told—”

I shoot him a what-the-fuck look.

“Yes, I know that’ll be extremely hard for you, but believe me when I say that man has something to prove. Step one of that is to let you drive his car. So how about we get on with doing that?” He quirks his brow and nods to the ignition. “I know for a fact you can drive stick. Need I remind you of the time when we borrowed Gio’s car when we were fourteen and practiced up and down the road until we stopped bunny hopping and crunching the gears like bad vocals at a heavy metal concert.”

I burst out laughing at the memory. Gio was furious when he caught us, and Papa couldn’t stop chuckling when my brother ratted us out.

“Good times. I don’t think Co will laugh if I ruin his gearbox though.”

Dion shrugs. “You’ll never know unless you turn the damn key. C’mon, Skye, what have you got to lose? Give the man a chance.”

My head jerks back. “Since when were you Team Cohen?”

“I’m not. I’m Team SkyCo. It has a much better ring to it.”

I arch a brow, my lips quirking.

“Yep. I’m going to trademark it and make millions in merchandise. Then I’ll retire at thirty-five and Vin, Penny, and I can live on a Caribbean island in the lap of luxury.”

My fingers move to push the key into the ignition. “You’ve put far too much thought into this,” I mutter, twisting my hand and causing the engine to roar to life with an invigorating rumble.

I can’t help the huge smile that covers my face at the sound, the energy, the feel of the power in my hands right now.

“You’re totally getting off on this car, aren’t you?” Dion asks with a laugh. I give a one-sided shrug but then rev the engine and giggle like a nut.

“Totally horny for the car. That man is not an idiot,” D mutters. I shake my head, and with a deep breath and a silent prayer, I ease away from the sidewalk and head down the road.

“Now, can you tell me where I’m driving this sexy piece of metal to?”

“We’ve got an hour to kill so I’ve been told to tell you to—and I quote—‘go nuts.’”

My head snaps sideways, my eyes bugging out so far that they near on roll out of the car and down the road as we stop at a set of lights. “He said that?” I whisper.

“Yup. And if he loves this car as much as you say he does, then that should tell you something.”

It does, but part of me still isn’t ready to believe it. Then again, if he told me to “go nuts,” this might be the only chance I get to do exactly that.

“Well then,” I say, revving the engine with a smirk, “this is one time I will do as he says.”

“Good girl. Now show me what this pretty lady can do.”

“She’s not a lady, she’s a snarling bitch, and I’m about to show you just how much.” And when the light turns green, I set out to do exactly that.

I pull Cohen’s car into a parking space outside the firehouse and shut down the engine, my eyes glued on the building I used to call my second home.

All my nerves come racing back now that whatever Cohen has planned is about to happen.

I swivel my head toward Dion, who’s staring back at me with an almost cautious expression.

“What’s going on, D? Surely he’s not asking me here to talk during a shift?” My voice lilts toward the end to a squeak.

“Relax, sweetness. He’s not working today.”

My head jerks back, and I scrunch my face up in confusion. “Then why the hell are we here?”

“Because Cohen told me to bring you.”

“Oh my God. Did he not say I could drive the car? Was this your way of getting him back for not buying the cow when he was getting the milkshake for free?”

Dion snorts. “Is any milkshake ever really free? I don’t even get or want your milkshake, and I still feel like I’m paying for it in one way or another.”

My entire mouth twitches. “I’m totally lost. How on earth does my sex life with Cohen relate to you and paying for it somehow?”

He stares back at me, not saying a word… then it dawns on me that he means he has to hear about it. I glare at him as he chuckles under his breath.

I throw my arm out and whack his shoulder. “It’s a privilege for anyone to have me or my milkshake in their lives, thank you very much!”

Dion’s chuckles turn into full-on, bent-at-the-waist bellows, and he’s soon wheezing with it. “Can’t… breathe… too… funny.”

“Stop it,” I say with a scowl, with absolutely no feeling behind it. “I’m a fucking delight, I tell you. I’m worth any pain and suffering I inflict.”

“That you are, my Skye,” he says with an exaggerated nod.

I poke my tongue out at his cheeky grin. “You forget, Princess Penny has half of my genes. It’ll be just your luck if she turns out exactly like me.”

“Well, I damn well hope so. She needs some of your spunk to even out my fabulousness.”

“God,” I say before dissolving into a fit of giggles. “Heaven help the world.”

“Right? Vin says we should invest in therapy now.”

“She’s not going to need professional help.”

Dion snorts. “Not for her—for us.” He looks out the back window, and his smile gets bigger. “Well, well, well. Looks like it’s go time.”

“What?”

“We need to get out of the car, and go inside the firehouse now,” he says, slowly enunciating every word like I’m a child.

“I. Heard. You. What I mean is, why now? Wh—” My eyes dart to the rear-view mirror just as the fire truck—my brothers’ fire truck—reverses into the driveway and inside the garage.

I stop breathing, complete and utter panic taking over my entire body, keeping me frozen in place.

“Skye?” Dion’s hand rests on my forearm. “Sweetness?” His fingers give me a gentle squeeze. “Hey, crazy lady, what on earth is wrong with you?” he screeches, shaking me out of my fear-filled freeze.

I turn my torso toward him, meeting his eyes. “D, why are we here?” I whisper.

Dion holds both hands up in surrender. “I just do what I’m told, and I quote, ‘Let her take the Camaro for a spin, wherever she wants, for however long she wants, but have her here by three’—that’s all I know.” I narrow my eyes, trying to glean any more information from him. When he meets me head-on until I blink first, I know he’s said all he can.

I huff out a breath and grip the steering wheel, looking straight out the windshield at nothing in particular.

And just like that, I regain the use of my limbs and reach for the door handle.

“We’ve got to get in there,” I rush out before jumping into action and opening the door.

“Okay then,” Dion mutters, then I’m gone, hurrying along the sidewalk and up the driveway, footsteps running behind me. “Ah, Skye. What’s the hurry?”

I don’t slow down. If anything, I walk faster. “I just need to get inside.”

“Okay,” he says. “But you might want to lock the man’s pride and joy.”

Stopping suddenly, I spin around and throw him the keys, then resume my mission through the firehouse doors, destination unknown, but I decide the living area is the best place to start.

With Dion by my side, I walk into the biggest room in the building, coming to a stop when I find Jamie, Jax, Bry, and a grinning Ezra lounging on the couches with Rhodes, Zach, and Gio. Marco, Luca and the rest of the squad are standing around the table and kitchen. I look for Cohen but don’t find him anywhere.

I turn back to Jamie, whose eyes have moved to me. In fact—everyone is now watching me.

“Brat!” Gio says, pushing to his feet and crossing the room toward me.

“Hey, look who’s back,” Rhodes calls out. Marco and Luca join Gio, forming an impromptu Rossi huddle. I’m about to ask someone—anyone—what the hell is going on when the air in the room changes. My eyes dart to the kitchen door just as Cohen strolls through it, his eyes boring deep into mine.

He walks straight toward me, the guys parting like he’s Moses and forming a small crowd behind him.

I catch movement out of the side of my eyes and see the Cook posse now in a line to my left, opposite my brothers who are to my right, with Cohen standing five feet in front of me.

His body language is relaxed, his eyes soft and warm. Although there’s an edge to him, a flash of determination in his gaze, an almost imperceptible tick in his jaw, and he’s not in uniform—something which is weird considering he should be working today.

I feel like the headline act at the state fair, except I’m not a willing performer, and I hate the spotlight. I also hate not knowing what the hell is happening.

“Okay, so it’s not my birthday, I haven’t been promoted, and I can’t think of anything else that’s happened to warrant a surprise celebration. So can someone please tell me what’s going on? Cass?”

His chest expands as he takes a deep breath and exhales slowly before he nods toward his family. The corner of his lips tip up as he glances back at me then turns to face my brothers.

“A little over a year ago, I made you a promise,” he says to Marco. “I’m standing here today to tell you I lied. From the minute I laid eyes on your sister, I knew something was different. I just didn’t see it.” The energy in the room shifts, and my attention moves to my three very protective siblings who are all now standing a little bit taller and wearing varied expressions ranging from confused to puzzled to intense. “Skye…” Cohen’s voice has my eyes snapping his way. “I was an idiot.”

“Well, that’s a good opener,” Dion murmurs beside me, but my sole visual focus is on the man in front of me.

“I didn’t realize the enormity of just how much you meant to me until you called me on it, and you were right to say the things you did. You deserve a man who is ready and willing to claim you, and a stronger man might step aside and let you find that.”

He closes the distance between us and reaches out, grabbing my hands that I didn’t realize were clenched tightly in front of me. “But I’m here today to fight for you—for us—and to tell our world that I love you. I’m a much better man—a better person—having you with me.” He gently squeezes my fingers. “I broke us by not admitting what you seemed to know before I did. I let the fear of losing you lead me to lose you anyway, and I’m here now to tell you, in front of everyone, that I love you and can’t imagine a life without you in it.” My heart pounds against my chest as tears gather in my eyes and he moves even closer, the heat from his body radiating to mine. “I want you today, tomorrow and always, and I won’t ever stop loving you and proving every single day that I’m not worthy of you but working my ass off to be the man you deserve me to be.”

I’m frozen in place, my stomach full of so many butterflies I fear I might take flight or spontaneously combust. Both are an option at this point.

“Holy fuck,” Gio whispers.

“Well shit,” Luca mutters.

“Jesus,” Marco says.

“If you don’t want him, I’ll create a harem so I can claim him for myself,” Dion whispers.

“Does this mean…” Scotty asks.

But everyone else in the room fades away as Cohen lifts his hands to cradle my jaw. I blink to make sure I’m not dreaming, and his lips curve into the sexiest, happiest damn smile I’ve ever seen.

“I love you, brat. Will you have me back?” he asks softly.

I stare into his beautiful bright eyes and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “You let me drive your car.”

Cohen crushes his lips to mine, one hand diving into my hair as his tongue delves inside my mouth, my hands grabbing his shoulders and holding on for dear life as he plunders. There’s a buzz of hoots and hollers around us, but I don’t give a single shit, because I’m kissing Cohen Cook and he’s told the world—our world—he loves me and always will. What else is a girl to do but kiss the living hell out of him after that?

When we finally pull apart, I melt into him, giving him my weight as we lean our heads against each other to catch our breath.

“You lurrrrve me,” I say in a quiet, singsong voice.

He looks me dead in the eye. “Yeah, baby, I do.”

“You told everyone.”

“Yep. And I’ll do it all over again if that’s what it takes.”

I shift back a little and smirk up at him. “I’m sure there are other ways you could show me you love me.”

“Skye, you’re our sister. We don’t wanna hear that,” Gio groans.

We both spin around to look at my brothers, all of them standing there watching us.

I look straight at Marco. “Please don’t kill him. I touched him first, so in all fairness, he didn’t lie to you. I dragged him over to the dark side.”

Marco’s lips twitch, and he quickly turns to Gio and Luca.

“Wait,” Luca says, shooting narrowed eyes at Cohen. “You’re just saying you love her—you definitely haven’t touched her or anything? You wouldn’t do that without asking our permission, right?”

To his credit, Cohen stands strong, although I swear I feel a little shudder go through him.

I roll my eyes. “Of course, Luca. That’s the first time he’s ever kissed me too. We both agreed to wait for marriage to consummate our relationship,” I deadpan. A strained choking sound escapes Cohen, his brothers chuckling at the look of panic on the youngest Cook’s face.

I’m too happy to make him suffer for long though. I place my hand over his heart and meet his wide eyes. “Don’t worry, Cass. We can go to City Hall straight away if you like…” He shakes his head, his lips quirking up into an ‘I’m gonna get me some’ smirk.

“Do we kick his ass now, or should we just hold the threat of it over him if he ever hurts her again?” Gio muses.

Hearing that makes me giggle. Cohen’s entire body relaxes as I huff out a sigh of relief.

“Wait, so Skye and Cohen are—” Scotty asks, his words cut off by a roar of laughter filling the room.

I turn back to Cohen, lifting up on my toes to brush my lips against his. “You risked bodily harm for me.”

“Yeah, baby.”

“Can I drive your car again?”

His eye twitches, and I burst out laughing.

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“Take that as a ‘You can drive it as long as you’re coming home to me.’”

“As long as I’m with you, I’m always home.”

“Oh, God, I’m gonna be sick,” Jax or Bry mutters—they sound so alike I can’t always tell them apart.

“Get a room,” Rhodes calls out.

“Aww, shucks. Baby Cook is growing up.” That was definitely Ezra.

I don’t care though, because I’m suddenly too busy being dipped backward and having the life kissed out of me by Cohen Cook.

Who would’ve thought lust at first sight and a little sleepy frottage would lead me to finding the love of my life and him risking bodily harm to declare his feelings for me?

I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Luckily for me, the hard work is now done.

All that’s left to do is enjoy the rewards.

Oh, and to make up for lost time, because two weeks without orgasms is far too long.

And Cohen did say he’d do anything…