The next morning, Cole opened the old screen door and leaned in.
Charlotte, dust cloth in hand, motioned him in. “Get yourself out of that heat.”
Stepping inside, he asked, “Is Jenni Beth here?”
“Sure is. She’s up in that room of hers, tucked away with her plannin’.”
“Okay if I go up?”
“Fine with me, but don’t you go walkin’ in on her unannounced.” She gave him the stink eye over the top of her glasses.
“No, ma’am. Wouldn’t think of it.”
“Humph. Go on now. I’ve got work to do.”
He took the stairs two at a time. He should be on his way to Savannah. He wasn’t. After tossing around in bed half the night, he’d decided too much was still up in the air here. So he’d called Mickey, his assistant, who’d assured him Traditions could get along without its owner and master for another day.
At the bottom of the attic stairs, Cole knocked on the banister.
“Come on up,” Jenni Beth called.
His heart knocked against his chest. Think of it as her office, not her bedroom.
She was working at the computer, all that silky blond hair scooped up in a messy knot on her head. It struck him how incredibly gorgeous she was, how exactly right with all the clutter of building and planning around her.
Himself? Definitely out of place. A male lost in an ultra-feminine space. He drew in a deep breath, smelled the faint scent of wisteria that clung to her. He sniffed again. Did he smell cigarette smoke?
“Were you smokin’ up here?”
She blushed. “No, of course not.”
Again, he sniffed. His imagination? Probably, although Jenni Beth sure did look guilty. He’d never known her to smoke, though.
“You busy?”
She laughed. “Always.”
“Still mad at me?”
“A little miffed maybe.”
“And that’s better than mad?”
“By a hair of a degree.”
“I’ll take it.” He nodded toward her computer. “What are you up to today?”
She hit save and swiveled to look at him. “I’m working on the layout for my website. Have to get that up.” She pulled a face. “I kind of cheated. I picked a couple areas to make beautiful…and finished. That way I can include some initial photos.”
“The rose garden?”
“Yeah, that’s one.”
“That’s not cheatin’. It’s smart.”
“Maybe.” She shrugged. “I’ve made a few calls to some of the bridal magazines, too. The cost makes me cringe, but I have to run ads. The money worries me, but I think it’ll be dollars well spent. Without the marketing, all the other work…” She shrugged. “Well, if nobody knows we’re here, everything else will all be for nothing, won’t it?”
“Yep. That old ‘you’ve got to spend money to make money.’”
“I only wish I had it to spend.”
A frown creased her forehead, and he found himself wishing he had the right to take her in his arms and kiss it away.
And wasn’t that the stupidest thing. He and Jenni Beth Beaumont would never, ever reach that point. Nor did he actually want to. It had been a flight of fancy. Charlotte was right. It was damned hot outside. Made a man goofy.
“How about a cup of coffee? Or a glass of lemonade?” Jenni Beth asked.
“Good idea.” Anything to give him an excuse to escape her space without losing his dignity.
But he didn’t make it. She started past him, and he lost the battle. Reaching out, he caught her hand, turned her into him, and brought his lips down on hers.
She melted into him, and he pulled her closer still, lost himself in the taste of her, the feel of her. The tiny sigh that escaped her sent a shaft of lust ripping through him.
And then she stepped away.
Before she could speak, he shook his head. “No. Don’t say anything. I know.”
She surprised him by simply nodding, those slate-blue eyes wide, then heading toward the stairs.
Heart racing, he followed her, bound and determined to keep things light. “Do you plan to keep your office in the attic, Jenni Beth? I’ve been thinkin’ about that, and it might prove kind of awkward. You’re bound to have parents or grandparents who will have trouble with all these stairs. Have you considered settin’ up a different spot to meet with your clients?”
“Already taken care of. I’ll use the carriage house. Since you pass it on the way to the main house, it’ll be easy for everyone to find.”
“Yeah, the location’s good.”
“A couple years ago, Charlotte decided to move into it, so Dad had the whole place rewired and put in the plumbing and a wall for a small bath. Then she changed her mind. Finish the bath, and I think with a bit of TLC and some decorating, it’ll suit me nicely as a client office.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“I told you I’ve thought a lot about this, Cole. This isn’t some spur-of-the-moment whim.”
“I know—and I believe you.”
They wandered into the kitchen, and she poured them both coffees. Wondering how her mother was doing this morning, she added cream to her own coffee, handed Cole his black.
Charlotte had all the doors and windows open, so they heard Beck when he came up the drive with a loaded trailer and a small crew.
Jenni Beth stepped onto the porch, coffee in hand. “Hey! Good morning.”
“Hey yourself, beautiful. I understand you need a little work done.”
“I needed some lumber cut to measurement,” she protested. “The work I planned to do myself.”
“Mornin’, Cole. Didn’t know you’d be here, but an extra hand is always welcome.”
“I can do this myself,” she said again, but Beck simply rolled over her objections and he, Cole, and his men went to work unloading supplies and setting up their work stations. As Cole and Beck bent over a box of supplies, she smiled. Beck and Cole. One light, one dark. White hat, black hat syndrome? One a good guy, one bad…for her, anyway? She traced a fingertip over her still tingling lips and guessed time would tell.
Cole had caught her off-guard, had unnerved her with the ease with which he’d had her totally under his spell. That wicked mouth of his was a miracle worker.
As she watched them work, she knew the two men’s differences went deeper than appearances. While Cole was open and friendly, Beck could, at times, close in on himself. Had he always been like that? Or had he changed after Tansy deserted him and broke his heart?
Since she couldn’t change the past, she picked up a sack containing tubes of caulk and a caulking gun and hauled it to the porch.
Her dad stuck his head outside a few minutes later and helped with some of the toting until her mother, with a quickly mouthed “thank you” to Jenni Beth, called him inside. She was sorry about that. It would be good for him to get involved. To spend time with Cole and Beck. Almost like it used to be.
Apparently, though, her parents had some sort of event on their calendar today. She was glad. Her mom needed to keep busy. Her late-night visit would be their little secret. No doubt her mother would just as soon forget it ever happened.
Jenni Beth wished with all her heart she could make that huge hurt go away.
As she watched the men heft huge loads and sweat over them, she felt overwhelmed. The generosity, the friendship. In Savannah, tucked away in her tidy urban apartment, she’d been reluctant to leave the city and return home. To be Jennifer Elizabeth Beaumont of Magnolia House again.
Just yesterday, she’d felt smothered by the small-town mentality and the fact that everyone knew everybody else’s business.
As the men carried lumber—for her dream—she realized this was the flip side of that. Everyone pitching in to help when it was needed. Lifelong friendships. People who knew her and her family and wanted to help.
Beck set a couple boxes of nails on the top step. “I thought the guys and I could at least get you started. We’ll take care of the porch repair. You’ve got some siding issues, too. Most of it can be saved, but we’ll need to replace some sections.” Hands on his hips, he studied the front of the house. “It really could stand some paint, couldn’t it?”
“That’s an understatement.”
“Well, here you go.” He handed her a scraper. “You can start with this.”
“Oh, lucky me.”
“Yeah. That’s what all the girls say. There’s just somethin’ about tools.”
She laughed.
Cole sidled up to them. “Hate to ruin the moment, but I need to borrow your lackey.”
“Fine with me.” Beck threw Jenni Beth a wink. “But it’s comin’ out of your salary.”
“As if,” she said.
“I won’t keep her long.” Cole nudged her back inside. “I drew up some plans for the kitchen area last night, and I want you to take a peek at them. See what you think.”
They moved back to the kitchen and Cole, after pushing aside some canisters, unrolled a length of paper on the counter. “I know you don’t plan to do any caterin’ yourself, but you’ll need room for food storage. And cleanup.”
She studied what he’d done. “This is good. Better than my idea.”
He bowed. “You’ll need new appliances.”
“You think?” Her gaze traveled to the well-used fridge and stove.
“I do, but we can salvage those. Somebody might be able to use them.”
“All right, consider them yours.”
“Your best bet? Buy your appliances from a restaurant depot. Should be able to get a great deal on some used ones. Far better than you could afford otherwise.”
“I want to include two dishwashers and a second fridge. To separate family and event food.”
“Good idea. How about we put the second one, the wedding one, in the pantry? You can store your party platters, glassware, and whatever else you’re gonna need in there, too.”
They bent over the drawing as he made the changes.
“Mama’s helping with this part of it. We’re not cooking here, but you never can tell. We might do something small. So, just in case, we’re stocking the kitchen with every platter, bowl, and serving piece we can scrounge up in the house. She’s digging around in storage, too. Dad’s helping her with some eBay shopping for things we don’t have.”
His eyes met hers. “That’s good. Get her involved in this.”
“She needs something to take her mind off, well, you know.”
“I do.”
“And this is her house, her home. To make it work, she needs a say in it.”
“You’re a good daughter.” He saw the cloud pass over her eyes. “You are.”
He thought again of the single portrait that hung in the stairway and wondered how her parents could be so thoughtless, so careless with their surviving child.
Rolling up his sketch, he asked, “What do you say we go outside and give Beck a hand?”
Jenni Beth picked up her scraper. “Let’s do it.”
While Cole pried off damaged siding, his mind stayed as busy as his hands. Despite what Jenni Beth believed, he’d never had any plans to tear down Magnolia House. Hell, he loved the place almost as much she did. This place had been his second home.
No. His plans didn’t include destroying the beautiful old home to sell it off piece by piece. Instead, he’d hoped to save it, too. To keep Wes’s folks in their home—and provide them a business if he could talk them into it.
Oh, it would have meant a huge change in their lifestyle. And probably a big blow to their pride. But after hearing Jenni Beth’s plan—well, if they were willing to go along with that…
So much of what he’d planned ran along a similar vein.
A lot of tourists, especially Northerners, loved the idea of spending a night or two in a real Southern plantation. The romance of it, the history struck a chord in so many.
He’d thought to turn Magnolia House into one of those fancy B&Bs.
Like Jenni Beth, he’d planned on a second-floor apartment for Mr. and Mrs. Beaumont to give them some private space. Unlike her, he’d turn a couple bedrooms into guest rooms along with some of the outbuildings.
He’d figured he’d hire help because he certainly didn’t expect Mr. and Mrs. B. to run a bed-and-breakfast themselves. And Charlotte? Years ago, she could have handled it with one hand tied behind her back. Now? She’d aged. The time for her to retire had come and gone. But the Beaumonts were her family, and so she stayed on with them. Ditto for Vernon, their gardener.
A couple years ago, Wes and Jenni Beth had put their feet down and insisted their parents hire part-time help. A couple women from town came in now and did the heavy cleaning one day a week, and Charlie’s teenage son and a friend did the heavy outside work.
Glancing around, Cole realized they needed more. The two boys hadn’t been able to keep up with the place on a one-day-a-week basis. The magnolias were in bloom and, while they were gorgeous, they were also unbelievably messy.
The red Georgia brick along the foundation needed some work, too.
Jenni Beth had bitten off quite a chunk.
And darned if some tiny part of him hadn’t begun to think she just might manage it—with a lot of help from her friends.
He whistled an off-key tune and hunkered down to work, the sun beating down on him, the sound of hammering and sawing singing around him. Jenni Beth scraped the old boards to his left. Cole couldn’t remember the last time things had felt so right.
Half an hour later, Jenni Beth stopped scraping. “Answer a question for me?”
“Sure. If I can.”
“You want this house. You’ve made no bones about that. So why are you helping me fix it up? You’re just going to tear it down if I fail.”
Without missing a beat, he said, “You’re a friend. Friends help each other.”
She made a disbelieving sound that he ignored.
His conscience pricked. He should probably come clean about his plan, too. He was holding on to too many secrets. Instead, he’d let her continue to think he was the villain. For now. Yeah, he’d have to put up with some anger short-term, but it would let her keep some of her pride.
If he explained his own plans, she might start to second-guess her decision. She’d wonder if she should let him have his way. At this particular point in time, he didn’t think that was the answer. Like her parents, she needed something positive to concentrate on, something to divert her mind from her family’s loss. This wedding venue would give all of them exactly that. This was what she wanted, and he’d do what he could to help.
He’d always felt—what? A soft spot for Jenni Beth? More, much more. She’d called him a liar, and he’d denied it. But if he denied his feelings for her? Then he was lying to himself.
Bottom line, she was Wes’s baby sister, and as much as he had fun flirting, there was a line there.
Or was there?
If Wes was still alive, would he feel he needed to keep his hands off her?
For one night, he hadn’t. One glorious night—that had led to him running like a scared rabbit. The biggest screwup of his life.
He wished it had never happened.
He thanked God it had.
Cole wiped the sweat from his brow.
Those eyes, that pouty mouth. All that beautiful silky blond hair. His fingers itched to loosen that elastic band and bury themselves in it.
And that body. Remembering that tiny little excuse for a pair of shorts, that damn pink tank top, he bit back a groan.
Right now, she didn’t have on much more, and he couldn’t blame her. This was hot work. Still, he’d eat a skunk if there was a single man among Beck’s crew, married or not, who hadn’t checked her out up there on her ladder in those skimpy red shorts and that little white tee.
Jenni Beth didn’t need designer clothes and a wheelbarrow full of makeup to look good. Nope. It didn’t much matter what she wore. She was a natural beauty with the body of a siren.
A brain, too, he admitted. And he loved that about her.
Magnolia House as a B&B would have brought some much needed help to Misty Bottoms. Jenni Beth’s wedding venue would bring far more.
* * *
By the time Beck’s crew called it quits and cleaned up for the day, Jenni Beth’s arms felt like rubber. She doubted she’d even be able to pick up a glass of sweet iced tea.
Leaning against the old oak tree in the front yard, she watched the trail of dust swallow up the last of the men’s pickups.
She turned to the house and grinned. Oh, it was still pretty much a disaster, but the difference one day, ten guys, and a whole lot of hard work and determination had made was phenomenal. She could hardly believe the changes.
The porch floor was whole again. The new, unpainted siding stood out like a harlequin pattern on the house, but it was being repaired.
On the porch steps, Beck and Cole sprawled, a bottle of water in each of their hands. Only the three of them were left, survivors in the midst of what had practically been a battle. They’d won today’s skirmish.
Walking over, she wiggled down between the men. Her brother’s friends. Her friends.
Nothing smelled quite like a man who’d worked hard all day. Both radiated heat. Jenni Beth found it sexy on a very elemental level.
She had two men, one on either side of her. One slightly urban, at home whether in the city or the country. The other? Country all the way. Both handsome, rugged males. Yet Beck, with all his good looks, didn’t affect her sexually. Didn’t make her want to drag him upstairs to her bed. Cole? Whew. Different story altogether. She practically had to sit on her hands to keep them from touching him, from running over his body. And she hated that. Hadn’t she learned her lesson?
“Why don’t you stay for dinner?”
“With your family? Smellin’ like this?” Beck asked.
“If you want, you can take a quick shower.”
“We’d have to jump right back into these sweaty clothes, Jenni Beth.”
“Fine. Just wash up. Mama and Daddy won’t care, and I’m sure I don’t smell any better than you guys.”
The look Cole sent her told her she smelled just fine. For a split second, she wondered if he’d been sharing her thoughts about taking that shower—together. She groaned mentally. Get real, Jenni Beth. You’re not his type.
But dang it all to purgatory and back, she knew exactly what Cole Bryson hid beneath that sweaty T-shirt, those worn, torn jeans. It didn’t matter, she reminded herself. What he did or didn’t have beneath those clothes no longer had anything to do with her.
“Charlotte made potato salad today and one of her blue-ribbon, county-fair-winning chocolate sheet cakes.”
“And I’ll grill some burgers.” Her dad stepped out onto the porch. “It’s the least we can do for you boys after what you did here today. We’ve missed havin’ you here.” He cleared his throat. “Sue Ellen made me promise you’d stay. Don’t make me look bad.”
The two exchanged a look, and within no time, they were out on the back patio with her dad at the grill, cold drinks in hand. Jenni Beth, her mom, and Charlotte set the outside table.
“Like old times, ain’t it?” Charlotte asked.
Her mother nodded, a sheen to her eyes.
Jenni Beth gave her a hug.
“I’m okay, sweetie. Just, well…” She shook her head, changed the subject. “There seems to be an awful lot of smoke.” Napkins in hand, Sue Ellen turned to her husband. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”
“The burgers keep catching on fire.” Her dad slapped at the grill as another flame shot skyward.
“Why don’t you let me do that, Mr. Beaumont?” Cole jumped up from the hammock he’d been sprawled in.
Her dad handed over the spatula without any argument.
* * *
“Thank you,” Jenni Beth mouthed to Cole. He grinned and nodded, bided his time till she went inside to help Charlotte.
“I walked through the house yesterday with Jenni Beth,” he said. “I see you’ve got Wes’s college picture in the stairway.”
Grief clouded Todd Beaumont’s face, and he nodded. “Nice picture, isn’t it?”
“It is.” Cole hesitated. Probably not his business, but if not his, then whose? He decided to go for it. “That really wasn’t my point, though, sir.”
Todd’s expression turned quizzical. “Your point? I don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t guess you do. Thing is, Mr. Beaumont, you’ve got two children but I only saw one portrait.”
“I don’t think—”
As if Todd hadn’t even spoken, Cole pointed the spatula in his hand toward Jenni Beth, who stepped through the back door, a large plate in hand, and lowered his voice. “And that one’s workin’ her ass off—pardon my French—to save this place.”
Todd stared at his daughter then glanced at his wife, who sat at the patio table, sipping tea and chatting with Beck.
Ashen-faced, he looked back at Cole. “Point taken.”
After she deposited her appetizer tray on the table, Jenni Beth walked over to them.
“Charlotte put some of your favorite cheese on there, Dad.” She tipped her head toward the platter.
“I’d better have some, hadn’t I? Don’t want to get on her bad side.”
A look passed between him and Cole.
After he walked away, Jenni Beth asked, “What’s going on? Dad looked—funny.”
“Just guys talkin’ sports over a grill.”
Her expression cried liar again.
“You and my dad planning something I should know about?”
“Nope.”
“Richard still hasn’t called.”
“He will.”
“From your lips to God’s ears.” She sighed.
Worry hazed those incredible blue eyes, and Cole wanted to punch Richard’s lights out for putting it there.
“He’ll call.”
“You can’t know that.”
Unease settled in Cole’s belly. “Yeah. I do know.”
“Hmmph.”
He felt like a heel. He felt…untruthful. Like that liar she’d called him. Yet he couldn’t tell her about Richard’s implied threat or his trip to the banker’s office. Not yet. He’d missed his chance earlier. Now, it would have to wait. It weighed him down.
* * *
Jenni Beth dropped onto an old Adirondack chair. Why did Cole sound so certain? And yet, at the same time he prowled, uneasy.
She studied her nails, wondering if there was even the slightest chance of resurrecting them. Helen at Frenchie’s Beauty Parlor would probably kick her out if she dared darken her door with this mess.
She smiled. It had been too long since she’d visited pink-haired Helen and her Grease-themed shop. Maybe she’d call tomorrow, if only to talk for a minute. If she intended to live in Misty Bottoms, she needed to reestablish herself. And who knew? She and Helen might be able to work up a package for brides and their attendants. They’d need someone to make them beautiful for their special day. Why not Helen and her staff?
She’d need to contact the two local hotels, too, to see if she could finagle some kind of discount rate or group package for overnight wedding guests. Guests who would spend money in town.
Her cell rang. Surprised, she nearly spilled the soft drink in her hand.
Caller ID showed it was Richard. Her stomach fluttered. He quite literally held her—and her family’s—future in his hands.
“Hello?”
She glanced up, saw Cole’s full attention trained on her. Shifting in her chair, she turned her back on him. She could handle this. Cole had started Traditions, his own business. Now it was time for her to start hers.
“Sorry for calling so late,” Richard said, “but I wanted to clear a few things off my desk before I head home.”
“No problem.” A lie she prayed would be forgiven. Inwardly, she could gladly have wrung his neck for stringing her along these past couple days on what was a sound business proposal. He was a bully—a small-minded, arrogant bully. She felt sorry for his wife.
“Will you be in town tomorrow?”
“I can be.”
“Good, good. Listen, why don’t you stop in and we can finish that paperwork. I’ll have everything ready for you to sign.”
Jenni Beth closed her eyes in a quick prayer of thanks.
“Any special time?” she asked.
“Whenever you get here is good. Gloria will have everything drawn up.”
She hesitated, almost afraid to ask, but needing to know. One deep breath and she plowed in. “Were you able to give me the full amount?”
“Almost. We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”
She turned off her cell, understanding what he hadn’t said.
Well, she’d deal with that later. Right now, she intended to enjoy dinner with her family and friends. Lightness and life. The old house needed this. Her parents needed this. Beck and Cole had brought a much-needed shot of energy to Magnolia House.
She glanced at her mother, saw a smile on her face. A matching one sat on her father’s. Warmth spread through her. The burgers, thanks to Cole, were wonderful—juicy and perfectly cooked. The conversation flew from one to the other, and there was laughter at the table. All in all, the evening was perfect.
While Charlotte and her mother cleared, Jenni Beth walked with Beck to the front yard.
“I know you’re the guy with all the connections,” she said. “And I understand your own men are already booked up with projects you have scheduled. But I’ll need workmen to plaster, to sheetrock, to do some plumbing and electrical work. Are there people in town who can do this, or will I need to bring in some outside help? I’d really like to put Misty Bottoms people to work if at all possible.”
“Give me a couple days to do some checkin’, and I’ll get back to you. I’m sure we can handle this job with local people. Things have been slow here, and the guys will be glad for the work.”
“That’s what I was hoping. Thanks, Beck, for everything.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, wondering again why she couldn’t feel anything but brotherly love for him. Maybe because Tansy had loved him. Jenni Beth had never understood how her best friend could have married someone else. Could have hurt Beck so badly.
As he walked to his truck, she stood, her arms wrapped around her waist. Everything was starting to fall into place. She waved as he disappeared down the drive.
When she turned, Cole stood behind her.
No noise, no chatter came from the back of the house. Her parents had gone inside. Beck was on his way home. Charlotte was in the kitchen cleaning up. Only Cole remained. In the dim summer light she stared at him, a nervous laugh playing through her mind.
He looked like a dark angel. But his eyes? A rogue’s eyes, full of mischief and devilment. How did a woman resist that combination?
No brotherly feelings here. Nope. But feelings? Emotions churned inside her, every bit as chaotic and dangerous as the running of the bulls at Pamplona. Why couldn’t she get this man out of her system? He’d let her down too many times. Had broken her heart.
And still, she wanted him.
He took a step toward her, the pale moonlight shining on him, silvering the light streaks in his dark hair. Her pulse kicked up a few notches, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he heard the thunder of her heart.
“I have no right to ask, but I’m gonna,” he said quietly. “Will you grant me one favor, Jenni Beth?”
“Grant you a favor? You make me sound like a princess or a queen.” She laughed. “We both know I’m neither of those.”
“No. Thank God, you’re a flesh-and-blood woman.”
Her breath caught, and she steeled herself for what might be coming.
“Now that your porch is rebuilt and is no longer in danger of fallin’ in, will you sit with me on the swing?”
“What?”
“For a few minutes. I need to go to Savannah in the morning, had planned to go back today. I’m only askin’ for a couple minutes of your time. No complications, I promise. No kissin’, no hand-holdin’. I just want to sit with you.”
“Cole Bryson, I swear you’re a brick shy of a full load.”
“Probably.” He stuffed his hands in his back pockets. “So will you?”
“Sit on the porch swing with you?”
“Yes.”
She smiled warily at him. “Despite everything, you’re a good friend, and you worked darned hard today. You’ve earned some porch-sittin’ time.”
He walked toward her. The peepers and crickets sang their song. Somewhere off in the trees, an owl hooted. The summer night air wrapped itself around her, and Jenni Beth wondered if the fireflies truly were magical. If they didn’t spill a little fairy dust around when they blinked on and off.
When he reached for her hand, she nearly drew it away. Nearly reminded him of his no-hand-holding promise. Deciding against it, she took that warm, calloused hand in her own.
And almost sighed aloud.
Together, they walked to the porch, through the patches of grass that still needed to be mowed. Past the stacks of lumber pieces left from today’s work. They climbed the stairs that needed more than a fresh coat of paint to make them safe and moved to the swing.
He held it as she sat, then dropped beside her. She swore his heat could generate enough electricity to run all of Atlanta for a good week or so. And despite his earlier labors, he smelled good. He smelled sexy.
Despite herself, she laid her head on his shoulder and set the swing moving with the tip of her toes.
Neither spoke.
His arm came around her, drew her closer. Her hand splayed across his chest. Oh boy, did he feel good. So strong, so muscular. And he smelled so male. She wanted to move closer, cuddle till midnight. And beyond.
Knew she didn’t dare.
The moon moved higher in the sky. The cicadas added their rasping, buzzing call to the night sounds. Inside, the house was quiet. A faint light in the hallway spilled onto the porch.
How long they sat like that, she couldn’t have said.
But when he turned, laid one hand on her check, and dipped his head, the warning system she’d so carefully erected around her heart failed.
She opened her mouth and met his kiss head-on. Everything, everyone else disappeared. The world shrunk to the two of them, and she didn’t want the moment to ever end. One kiss led to two, then three.
Slowly he drew away and straightened.
“Damn, you taste good. I should probably apologize for that, after my promise and all, but I’m not gonna. Instead, I’ll say thank you. Good luck tomorrow. If things don’t work out with Beck’s guys, give me a call. We’ll see what we can do. Good night, sugar.”
“’Night, Cole.”
When he turned his back to her, she laid a finger on her lips. Even his kiss was full of confidence. So Cole. Whatever he did, he gave it one hundred percent.
Oh yeah. His kisses rang her bell.
She sat there while the lights came on in that big black truck of his, the gold lettering advertising Traditions, his salvaging company, glowing in the moonlight. Watched as he idled down the long drive. Watched as his taillights disappeared from view.
Laying her head back, she stared into the inky sky. Stars spilled across it like so much confetti. Trembling fingers traced her still-burning lips, lips that already missed Cole’s. What did he want?
Her or her house?
Maybe it was a moot point. In the morning, he’d drive back to Savannah.
Would he return? She doubted it. His history was that of hit and run. It made sense he’d follow pattern.