Chapter Nine

In a split second, Jane went from sex-addled to crystal clear, making some kind of nonsensical eep noise as she clung to the nearest solid thing, which just happened to be Cole’s big, broad shoulders. He was much more expressive in his reaction.

“Holy fucking shit,” he muttered as he made a grab for her hips, pulling her in closer.

It felt like it had happened in slow motion when, in actuality, it took only a couple of seconds for the chair to hit the ground.

They both braced fully for impact, but the jolt was still shocking, the noise deafening in the quiet of the drizzly night. Somewhere out beyond the back fence, a house light turned on. The dog next door barked. Neither of them moved or spoke for a beat or two; they just sat and breathed, Jane still straddling him, her forehead pressed into the side of his neck until Cole finally opened his mouth.

“Did the earth move for you, too?”

His humor was unexpected in the aftermath of both the intimacy and the…furniture malfunction, and Jane laughed, the whiskers of Cole’s throat tickling her lips. He laughed, too. Well, it was more of a chuckle, really. Deep and warm, and Jane’s heart did a funny little flip inside her chest.

“My grandmother,” Jane said, still not quite capable of moving, “would say this was a message from Jesus.”

Her father’s mother was a devoutly Christian woman who saw sin around every corner—no wonder her father had rebelled and joined the military. She was nice enough but quite dogged about certain things, one of which happened to be Jane’s virginity through her teenage years. She had not been pleased when Tad came on the scene. The man’s got nothing but lust in his thoughts. She’d been right, of course, but Jane’s thoughts hadn’t exactly been squeaky-clean, either, and Tad hadn’t been her first.

“Of course. Jesus knows it’s better to fool around in a bed.”

“I think it was more about sin than location.”

He chuckled again, his fingers absently stroking the curvature of her hip. “Some things are worth going to hell for.”

It was a simple statement that packed a substantial punch, and all Jane could think was amen to that. She wouldn’t have passed up those mad frantic moments making out on the love seat with Cole for a gold-embossed, jump-the-queue pass through the pearly gates.

Hell, she’d go to hell, directly to hell without collecting two hundred dollars, just to do it all again. Which made her aware—very aware—suddenly that at least one of them hadn’t had the pleasure. The evidence of which was still pressing hard and delicious against the dampness of her panties.

Lordy, Lordy. He must think her terribly selfish.

Jane roused herself, easing back a little to look down at him, bringing him into even more intimate contact. His fingers dug into her hips a little as their eyes met. She wasn’t aware of the light drizzle still falling behind her; she was aware only of Cole watching her through heavy-lidded eyes, the slide of his Adam’s apple, and his blatant arousal.

Her cheeks warmed a little as she thought about what they’d just done. How she’d let a man she’d known for less than a week stick his hands in her panties and give her the longest, most intense orgasm of her life. Her grandmother would be clutching her rosary for sure had she known. But Jane felt no shame or guilt. She knew that if the world ended tonight, she’d never regret making out on this love seat with Cole Hauser.

But they weren’t done here yet.

“I agree,” she murmured, flexing her hips a little, rubbing the damp line of her panties along the hard ridge of his erection. “Some things are definitely worth it.”

He gave a half laugh, half groan, his fingers clutching at her hip a little harder. “Glad we’re on the same page.”

“I gotta say, I’m impressed, though,” she said with a smile.

“Really?” His voice rumbled out thick and heavy with a streak of barely concealed impatience.

“A lesser man might have lost this—” She rubbed hard against him, and the harsh suck of his breath was like rocket fuel to her overheated system. “When the swing came crashing down. But yours is still going strong.”

“Honey, I’m a professional rugby player. Our hard-ons never quit.”

Jane had never heard anything so outrageously cocky in her life. She should’ve been able to laugh it off as sexual hyperbole, but she was way too turned on to dismiss his claim.

Hell, she believed it.

“Well…I give it ten out of ten.”

He grinned, slid one of his arms around the small of her back, and dragged her in tight, their centers fully aligned, every contour of his dick pressed intimately against the furrow of her sex. “Oh, I’m sure I can do better than that.”

It felt so damn good Jane was willing to double the score on the spot, and then he thrust, grinding that bulge against the insanely sensitive flesh between her legs. A streak of pleasure twisted through her middle, and she cried out as her eyes fluttered closed and she saw stars.

He cried out, too, but not in pleasure.

It took a beat or two to realize he’d muttered “Sonofabitch,” and that the pressure between her legs ceased instantly as the grip around her waist tightened. She opened her eyes to find Cole’s features twisted in a grimace of pain, not ecstasy. His spare hand was clasping his right hip, and he was breathing heavily. And not in the sexy way.

Oh shit. His leg. His hip.

“Cole.” Her pulse, which had been settling, spiked. She twisted off his lap immediately, sitting back on her haunches as she faced him. “Are you okay? Is it your leg? Why didn’t you tell me you’d hurt it in the fall?”

Jane felt like a real jerk, too wrapped up in her blissed-out state to think beyond herself.

“I didn’t. It was only when I…moved just then.” He shifted slightly, grunting as he resettled himself. “Fuckity fuck,” he muttered under his breath.

“What can I do?” Her hands hovered over his thigh, but she didn’t know the first thing about what might make it better—or could potentially make it worse—so she let them flutter uselessly to her side.

“It’s fine,” he assured. “It’s probably just a slight muscle twinge.”

“What if it’s more?” she asked, searching his face for any signs that he might be worried about the same. There was nothing but pain etched there. “I mean, both your back and your front took the full brunt of the fall, including taking my hundred twenty pounds.”

He gave a mirthless laugh. “Until recently, I got paid an obscene amount of money to be ground into the dirt by guys twice your size.”

“Be that as it may, tough guy”—she bugged her eyes at him—“I don’t think you’re meant to have that kind of weight bounced in your lap after a recent injury.”

A slight smile tilted the corners of his mouth. “There’s bouncing, and there’s”—he waggled his eyebrows—“bouncing.”

Jane suppressed an eye roll. “You practically broke my fall, Cole.”

“You’re welcome.”

He grinned now, but it morphed into a grimace, and Jane’s concern spiked again. “Maybe I should call an ambulance and you should go get an X-ray.” The nearest X-ray facilities were an hour’s drive away, but if something was wrong, it was better to know sooner rather than later.

“It’s fine.” He patted her hand, giving it a quick, reassuring squeeze. “I can already feel it easing. It’ll settle soon. I just need to sit for a bit.”

Jane sighed, wriggling off her haunches, pulling the discarded beer bottles out from behind her to sit facing the yard with her legs thrust out in front of her, mimicking Cole, and they sat staring out at the drizzly night. She supposed Cole had been dealing with this long enough to know what he was talking about, but it still left her feeling entirely inadequate. The man had flown her to heaven and back, and she couldn’t do a damn thing to help him right now.

Unless…

She glanced over, her gaze dropping to his lap. It was a rainy night, but her eyes had fully adjusted. Had the mood been killed? “I could provide some…distraction.”

He chuckled then, also looking down at his lap. “I think that moment has come and gone.”

“Oh come on now,” she teased. “Where’s all that professional rugby spirit?”

“I think you’d probably score me a one out of ten right now.”

Jane doubted there would be any universe in which Cole Hauser’s genitals were ever a one. Even with a walking stick, the man carried himself like he was packing serious dick. Grinding against him as she had, she could definitely give him a eleven, but, truth be told, he was probably always a baseline eight.

Maybe a seven after being plunged in a cold lake or an ice bath.

“I bet I could help get that number up.”

He chuckled, and it was a rich, deep, comforting sound in the night. “I bet you could, too.”

“It seems only fair after the orgasm you gave me.”

“Thanks.” He grinned. “But I don’t need payback.”

“Are you sure?” Jane half turned to face him, snuggling her cheek against the cushion. She loved that, even in profile, she could see he was still smiling. “I’d be very gentle. You wouldn’t even have to move. I can just use my mouth if you like. Little tiny, tiny licks, I promise.”

The thought of giving him a BJ out here seemed terribly exciting. Not something a single mom with responsibilities should be countenancing. But tonight had already been pretty damn risqué—what was one more thing to add to her list of transgressions?

He gave a deep groan that ruffled deliciously through all her illicit places. Rolling his head along the back of the couch, he faced her, their eyes meeting. “You are evil, Jane Spencer.” His gazed dropped briefly to her mouth, then back to her eyes again. “I think what my hip really needs most now is immobilization. Can I take a rain check?”

There was no mistaking the regret and yearning coloring his low request. So much yearning her breath caught. “Of course.” The last thing she wanted to do was cause him further injury.

Jane turned back then to the view, not that she saw anything. Really, the best thing to do right now would be to go. Sitting here like they were more than two people who had the hots for each other and were probably going to have sex very soon was plain dumb.

She just wished she didn’t like his company so much.

“Well.” She sat forward and scrambled to her feet, her dress falling to her ankles as she turned to face him. “I’m going to go and catch up on some business stuff.” There was no point pretending she was going to sleep when she was going to lie awake half the night thinking about that rain check. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”

He flopped his head against the cushions, looking up at her. His broad frame and the wild spring of his dark curls somehow looked extra masculine against the floral pattern. “Yep.”

She offered her hand, even though she already knew he wouldn’t take it. “Need some assistance?”

“I think I’ll…” He patted his hip. “Sit for a bit longer.”

“Okay.” Jane nodded even though she wanted to point out it would be quicker and easier for him to take her assistance. But she was used to recalcitrant males in her life. Finn never did anything the easy way, either. She dropped her hand. “Good night, then. See you in the morning.”

“I’ll be seeing you in my dreams first.”

The way he was looking at her left Jane in no doubt they were going to be very dirty dreams. She gave a half smile. “Ditto.”

…

As she suspected, Jane didn’t sleep all that much, and her concentration was shot all the next day.

She gave up on the tile removal at just before three after damaging her sixth segment of wood due to her inattention. Sure, she could fix them with some putty, but any extra restoration work meant time, and—although she was catching up, thanks to Cole looking after Finn—she didn’t have a lot of wriggle room.

And now she was thinking about Cole again.

Cole kissing her. Cole touching her. Cole sliding his hands inside her panties and making her come. Cole taking a rain check on so much more than some R-rated groping.

She’d had to put Carl back in his cage because she was sure the animal could read her mind. Finn had requested that Carl hang with her while he was at the clinic, and yesterday, Jane had been fine with that—the chameleon had mostly dozed in the sunny patches of floor beneath the windows. But today, it had spent a lot of time sitting and staring at her with those freaky eyes like he knew exactly what had gone down last night. And was judging her.

Like a multicolored Jiminy freaking Cricket.

“I’m leaving, Carl,” she announced as she gave his cage a quick spray of water before departing. The animal stared at her, his eyes unmoving. “To see Finn.” More staring. “At the park.”

Even more staring.

“Okay, yes…to see Cole, too.” The staring was really freaking her out now. “Give me a break, Carl. I’m only twenty-six. I need some loving, too. It’s not hurting anyone.” She squirted the mister in his direction, and the damn animal’s eyes still didn’t move. “I don’t need your permission, Carl.”

Which was just as well, because clearly she wasn’t going to get it. “Why am I even talking to you?” Jane put down the mister and fled the bathroom.

Ignoring the urge to change into something more…girly than her shorts, T-shirt, and work boots, she grabbed her bag and keys, tromping down the stairs and heading out the front door to her car. It took less than ten minutes to get to the park, during which time she tried to mentally justify her decision.

It wasn’t weird she was going. She’d told Finn she’d try and stop by the clinic this afternoon, and it was exactly what she was doing.

Exactly as any mother would do.

And Finn was thrilled to see her, running toward her as he spotted her, a grin so big on his face her heart swelled just as big in her chest. But it also gave a funny thump that had nothing to do with Finn as Cole greeted her with a nod and a “Jane” that might’ve sounded perfectly normal and innocent to anyone else observing but, when combined with the way his gaze brushed her body and lingered on her mouth, was pure, unadulterated anticipation.

He’d greeted her the same way this morning in the kitchen right in front of Finn with absolutely no sign of the exacerbation of his injury from last night. Just those eyes roving over her like he had X-ray vision and he knew exactly the color of her bra and panties.

No wonder she hadn’t been able to concentrate all damn day.

“Mommy, we’re going to play a game now. Aren’t we, Cole?”

Cole hadn’t taken his eyes off her. “Uh-huh.”

“Cole says playing is the best part. Isn’t that right, Cole?” Finn continued innocently, totally unaware of the vibe going on between his mother and the man he clearly adored.

A small smile hitched up one side of his mouth. “I like playing best of all.”

Jane swallowed. The fact the man was probably a player in more ways than one didn’t even penetrate right now. She just wanted to play so freaking bad. “That sounds like fun.” How long had it been since she’d had fun?

He grinned. “Oh, it will be.”

Then he lifted a whistle to his lips and turned away, giving it a hard, sharp blow and motioning to everyone to gather together. Jane stood aside, finding a shady tree to watch Cole from a distance as he organized the clinic participants efficiently, dividing players up into age groups and giving instructions to both the players and the helpers, who were also hanging on his every word. He may need a stick to help him walk, but his masculinity, his authority, was undeniable.

Everyone was looking to him, and he was leading. Hell, if that didn’t make Jane another degree hotter.

“He’s quite commanding, isn’t he?”

Jane dragged her eyes off Cole to find Della from next door standing on her right. They’d met the day Jane had moved in and had indulged in several neighborly conversations since. Betty, her Cavalier King Charles—apparently named after Betty White—had collapsed at Della’s feet, also watching Cole with her tongue hanging out.

The dog sure had a good eye.

“I’ll say,” agreed the woman to her left. Jane had met Winona Crane one day at Annie’s diner when she’d stop to buy pie because Annie’s pies were legendary. Della, who’d also been at Annie’s, had introduced Jane to the erotic romance author who had moved to Credence the previous summer.

“I think it’s the accent,” Della said.

Cole sounded very Australian among all the American accents. The kids certainly looked at him like he was Steve Irwin and Crocodile Dundee rolled into one. The mothers were looking at him like he was the three Hemsworth brothers morphed into one delicious package.

Winona laughed. “Yeah…I don’t think it’s that.”

Jane didn’t, either. In fact, she knew it wasn’t. Clearly, Winona also had a pretty good eye, too. “You ladies rugby fans?” she asked because she knew neither of them had children.

“Nope.” Della shook her head. “I’m just here to ogle Tucker.”

“Okay.” Jane laughed. She hadn’t even realized Tucker was here. “I get that.” Tucker and Della lived together, and he was a good-looking guy. Also, clearly besotted with Della.

“And I get to ogle for a living,” Winona added. “It’s research.”

Another laugh escaped Jane’s throat. That seemed fair enough. Jane assumed that writers were keen observers of the human condition. Although Winona did seem to have her gaze fixed on Arlo, who just happened to be Della’s brother.

They stood there in companionable silence for a while and ogled while Cole yelled encouragement, gave directions, and refereed from the sidelines. He really was magnificent; his physicality, even as he limped up and down the sideline of the makeshift field, was a palpable force reaching out across the distance.

“You’d think he’d be more hindered by that stick, wouldn’t you?” Della observed.

“Yeah,” Jane said, utterly distracted by his agility.

“Arlo never seems particularly hampered by his limp,” Winona observed with a certain lasciviousness.

Both Jane and Della glanced at Winona, who was, definitely for sure this time, checking out Arlo as he also prowled up and down the sideline on the other side. Jane hadn’t even been aware that Arlo had a limp, so she didn’t know the story behind it, but it was clear Winona had spent a lot of time observing Credence’s chief of police.

“Arlo would never dare let something as trivial as a prosthetic leg slow him down,” Della said with a wry kind of affection. Jane had about two seconds to absorb that tidbit of information before someone yelled, “Catch it!” as a kick went wrong, the ball flying across the field only to be plucked from the air and caught in a running dive by Tucker. “Great catch, honey,” Della yelled, clapping enthusiastically. Tucker turned and bowed in her direction, his look playful but also heated.

“You two need to get a room,” Winona teased.

Della blushed a little, and a spike of jealousy lanced Jane to the spot. God, she wanted that. A man to look at her with open adoration and lust.

Well…not just any man. The sharp blow of a whistle dragged Jane’s attention back to the game, and she watched as Cole patiently explained something to a boy of about ten who was looking at him like he was a god. When he was done, he handed the ball to the kid and walked back to the sideline, rubbing absently at his hip.

Jane frowned. Was he suddenly dragging his leg a little more? Was he overdoing it?

She could probably help him with that. Wait…what? No. Get a grip, Jane. She shouldn’t help him with that. At all. She should leave him alone to rest up and sleep off any fatigue the last two days had wrought. She should give him a chance to recover from the physical demands of the last two day and any lingering niggles from the fall.

But God…she did not want to leave him alone at all. She wanted to be all over him. She wanted him all over her. She wanted to feel more than his fingers moving inside her. She could be gentle. She’d told him as much last night, and she meant it. She’d be happy to be on top and do all the work.

In fact, she was totally on board with that.

Hell, the idea of it was titillating in ways that were growing on her at a rate of knots. Old Jane was horrified at this new sexual impatience. Old Jane didn’t go after things like this. There were too many demands on her time and too many consequences if she screwed up. But old Jane could go jump in the lake. There was a window of opportunity here that was only going to be open for a brief period of time, and new Jane wanted to crawl right through it.

Hell, new Jane wanted to smash it to smithereens, and to hell with the consequences.

Cole blew the whistle again, and Jane closed her eyes as a rather vivid image of her on top of Cole, riding him in a teeny tiny cheerleader uniform, formed in her head.

Her grandmother would not be pleased. There weren’t enough Hail Marys in the world for that fantasy. But yeah…fatigued or not, tonight was the night.