Chapter Fourteen

Cole holed up in a suite at the Sheraton for two days.

What was the point of having money if he couldn’t splurge, right? The suite was the kind of luxurious he expected at a five-star hotel—sleek and modern, with all the bells and whistles. But the ceiling was a plain, boring, flat plasterboard, and there was no backyard with a love seat and tire swing.

He watched ESPN, drank little bottles of booze, and ordered room service. The exact thing he’d gone to Credence to do before he’d been sidetracked from his pity party by a woman and a little boy. Mitch rang, left messages, and texted what felt like a thousand times, and Cole ignored all of them as he tried to clear his head and come to a decision about what he wanted.

Really wanted.

Unfortunately, the answer kept coming up the same every time—Jane.

It seemed a person didn’t need to be in the same abode as someone to still think about them all the time. When they were in your head and possibly other parts of your body he refused to dwell on, they went with you everywhere.

Staying in Denver, staying away from Jane, hadn’t freed up his headspace at all. The way she’d distanced herself that last day after Tad had turned up and her what’s to think about at the airport kept running around his head. The fact she had to ask that, the fact she couldn’t even think that maybe they could talk about a them as another option—exploring it, seeing where it went—told him she wasn’t as caught up in this thing as he was.

Because he was caught up in it. He didn’t know what it was, but he thought it was…something.

Jesus. Was he delusional? And when had his career taken a back seat to a woman? When had that happened? Professional career sportsmen were selfish pricks. They had to be. It had to be all about them because it required 100 percent effort to do what they did. Sure, he wasn’t ever going to be an elite athlete again, but that didn’t mean the rest of his career didn’t deserve that kind of focus.

Which kept bringing him back to the basic fact. He had to say yes to the job. What else was he going to do? Coach? After the clinic he’d run in Credence, he knew he couldn’t be that close to the game. Maybe with time and distance he could do something like that, but not now—probably not for some time. And at least sportscasting still kept him in rugby.

Kept him in the realm but not at the coalface. Gave him a degree of separation.

And it was a good package. He was being paid an obscene amount of money for way less work and zero chance of hurting himself again. Maybe permanently this time. It was win/win. A soft place to land with perks worthy of a movie star. The kind of package where free TGIF blow jobs could be thrown in with the deal and nobody batted an eyelid.

But…none of that really appealed. Neither did going back to Australia and never seeing Jane again. In fact, that felt like a boulder sitting in the pit of his stomach whenever he contemplated it.

Thank god for little bottles of booze…

…

On the third day, Cole was aimlessly flicking through the TV channels during a half-time break in the game he was watching when he saw a commercial for the historic Brown Palace Hotel. He’d been there a couple of times for different events when he lived in Denver and had forgotten about the glorious old building set on its triangular plot with its lovely red sandstone edifice and its soaring atrium.

It reminded him of Jane, and before he knew it, Cole was getting dressed and heading down to the lobby in the elevator and striding outside. According to Google, the Brown Palace was a four-minute walk, which probably meant a ten-minute walk for him, between the damn cane and his limp, but he hadn’t exercised in days, so it would do him good.

It took him eight minutes, but Cole felt every one of them. And not just because he was impatient to get where he was going—there was a stiffness to his leg and hip joint, and he cursed his stupidity at being so inactive. The hotel had a gym, and he’d hit it when he got back, because sitting around feeling sorry for himself while he contemplated his life was all well and good, but he couldn’t afford to be complacent.

Inactivity had physical consequences.

The liveried doorman opened the door, and within a minute he was being ushered to a table in the center of the lobby and ordering bourbon, staring up into the soaring atrium at the stained glassed ceiling and the large American flag draping down. It was opulent and old-world, and Cole instantly thought about Jane.

Did she know about this place? Had she ever been here? He wished she was here with him now so he could watch her face light up and listen to her talk about the beautiful filigreed iron panels that bordered the eight balconies that rose above his head. About the lamps and the columns and all the other little architectural flourishes on the arch work.

And the flooring. God, did he want to hear her talk about the flooring.

He just wanted to hear her talk, because…her passion was infectious and because he missed her and…a sharp pain lanced right through his middle…god fucking damn it, he loved her.

A waiter put his drink on the table, and Cole picked it up and threw it down in one hit. “Can I get another?” he asked. The waiter nodded and withdrew, taking the empty glass with him.

Cole slumped back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, the magnificence of it temporarily lost to him as he absently rubbed his chest. The chatter of the half dozen people around him also enjoying a drink in the lobby dimmed and warbled as if they were coming at him from underwater.

So this was what love felt like? A heart attack?

He’d definitely never felt this before.

God…how was that even possible after a couple of weeks? He knew people fell in love; there was evidence of that all around him. But he didn’t believe in love at first sight. Tad had said he’d known in two hours, but Cole didn’t believe in instalove.

And yet, here he was, conviction growing in his chest as the pain receded. He was in love with Jane Spencer. He knew it as surely as he knew the echo of his own heartbeat. Somewhere in these past two weeks, he’d fallen and fallen hard.

Now what the fuck was he going to do about it?

Sitting forward, Cole shoved his hand into the thick tangle of curls, which he’d pretty much ignored since he’d checked into the Sheraton, so they were now a springy, unruly mess. Not having Jane in his life was unthinkable, but this wasn’t a simple boy-meets-girl-they-fall-in-love-and-live-happily-ever-after situation.

He lived on the other side of the planet. He had a job offer—a very good one—on the table. Back home. In Australia. And even if he didn’t have that one, Cole had no doubt his agent would manage to secure him something once brands and businesses knew he was looking for something to endorse.

In Australia.

But Australia was a long way away from America. A long way away from Jane. And she couldn’t go back with him. As Tad had pointed out so helpfully, there was Finn and her business anchoring her here, and he’d probably get a pair of needle-nose pliers upside the head for even suggesting she and Finn follow him back, and he’d deserve them.

So, he needed a job here.

Not that, realistically, he needed a job. Not immediately, anyway. Rugby had paid him very well, and he had a good business manager. He wasn’t Wade Carter rich, but he could probably live off his earnings for some time. But Tad was right, again. Her ex’s lack of proper employment had been a bone of contention between him and Jane, and Cole didn’t want to be another guy in her life sitting around idly while she worked her arse off.

Besides, it just…wasn’t in him to be idle. Sure, he’d done a pretty good impression of idle the past few days, and he’d endured months of enforced idleness post-injury, but that had driven him stir crazy. He’d been a professional athlete most of his life, and before that he’d been an amateur athlete.

Before that, he’d been a kid with ants in his pants, just like Finn.

He was, by nature, an active person, and, at only thirty-two, he had years of working life left in him. He couldn’t just sit around in his mansion, counting his money forever and ever.

Also, and more importantly, he couldn’t legally stay in America without a job. At the moment, he could only legally stay in the U.S. for ninety days. He was a foreign national—there were laws and regulations around that shit. He couldn’t just walk into the nearest unemployment office and throw himself on their mercy.

Christ. It wasn’t going to be easy. That pain in Cole’s chest started to niggle again. The more he thought about it, the more impossible it seemed, the more panicked he felt. There had to be a way. Other Australians lived and worked in the U.S., right?

Putting the brakes on his escalating panic, he dragged in a couple of deep, calming breaths. He was going to figure this out if it killed him.

It hit him then. Mitch. Of course.

Mitch would know this stuff. He might be an Australian agent, but he’d probably dealt with clients who went overseas to play their chosen sport. He probably had experience and contacts. Maybe he’d even know of someone or a company or a brand that might be willing to sponsor Cole so he could stay in the States.

The pain subsided again just as the drink arrived, and Cole took a sip this time as he dragged his phone out of his back pocket and hit the last number in his missed calls. It was six a.m. back home, and ordinarily Cole might’ve waited until a more reasonable hour, but this couldn’t wait. The call went to voice mail.

“This is Cole. Call me,” he said before hanging up.

He imagined Mitch would probably see a missed called from Cole and call back without checking the message. His agent was desperate for Cole’s answer regarding the sportscaster job, so he wouldn’t mess around. As he was about to place the phone on the table, it started to buzz. Expecting it to be Mitch, Cole was surprised to not recognize the number. But maybe it was Mitch ringing on another number?

“Hello, Mitch?”

“No. It’s Doug Swan. Is that you, Cole?”

Doug Swan. The chief executive of the Australian rugby board? “Ah…yes?” He vaguely remembered Swan coming to visit him in the hospital not long after his accident. “Is everything okay?”

The top dog didn’t call just to say hi. The only reason he called was to congratulate someone for a huge achievement or to ream someone out for doing something stupid. As far as Cole was aware, he’d done nothing to deserve either.

“Yes. Just ringing about Ronan Dempsey. Griffin King tells me you’ve been very helpful. Do you have time to chat?”

Chat? Doug Swan was calling to shoot the breeze? “Um. Sure?”

Right now, while he waited for Mitch to get back to him, Cole had all the time in the world.

…

A week later, Jane stood in the middle of the red sitting room, looking all around her.

Everything was set for the magazine people to come tomorrow. The furniture had been reinstated by the same moving company from Denver who had moved the furniture out. The rich burgundy drapes, which she’d removed to polish the floors, had been rehung. The parquetry was a patchwork of glossy red tones. The chandelier sparkled like a crown.

The fireplace, with its newly laid surround of authentic nineteenth-century tiles—that had taken Jane two months to source—looked as good as the day it was first installed. In fact, the room looked like it was brand new. Like she’d stepped back in time and was seeing it as it had been back in its heyday.

And she’d done that.

Her effort and her toil and her passion for restoration had powered this project from start to finish, and it was better than she could have ever hoped. But the thrill she’d normally feel was missing, because the one person she really wanted to show it to wasn’t here.

His car was still parked outside, and his bag was still in his room, but he was conspicuously absent. When he hadn’t arrived by Friday, she’d started to worry that maybe he was dead in a ditch somewhere or had already left to go back home, but then he’d texted later that day to tell her he’d been in meetings all week and would be back in Credence sometime early next week.

Which was now this week.

She didn’t know what in meetings meant, but she assumed it had to do with the sportscaster job he’d been offered. Because surely he’d accepted the job by now. Maybe there were further negotiations and…other stuff to sort out first. But in that case, why hadn’t he just flown home for them? The job was starting next week.

Jane hadn’t bothered to answer what was clearly a duty text. It was obvious to her, watching the rugby game last week, that he’d already withdrawn from whatever the hell had been going on between them. Holed away in Credence, in this house, they’d been able to ignore the outside world, but in Denver, the reality of her life—that she had baggage and competing responsibilities—had obviously hit home.

It couldn’t be all about him. About them.

She’d clocked the exact second he’d realized the implications and potential impact on his life as their eyes had met across the field. Which had then been driven home, later that night, sharing Wade’s apartment with her ex. And then there had been their awkward parting at the airport.

No long hug, no lingering see-you-later kiss. No attempt to narrow the distance between them. And she’d had to grind her heels into the pavement to stop herself from doing it, because freaking hell she’d wanted to touch him one last time. Yep, despite everything, despite telling herself not to get too invested in what was just a summer fling born from proximity and a sudden dose of horniness, she’d come to think and feel too much for Cole Hauser already.

In two weeks. Two freaking weeks. Which was utterly ridiculous.

But then, why was she crying so bloody much? Why did her chest hurt? And why did this feel worse than finding out Tad had cheated and her marriage breaking up? She hadn’t asked for something like this, and she hadn’t been looking for it, either. For crying out loud, Cole Hauser had only ever been a temporary…lover.

And he’d left. Because that’s what men did around her. They left.

Tad had. And now Cole. She was too bossy. And busy. And irritable. Her standards were too high. She was too demanding. She didn’t suffer fools very gladly.

But she was a busy single mom with a business and a household to run. And now a freaking chameleon to wrangle. There had to be control, or there’d be chaos. Which didn’t make her soft or easy. It didn’t make her fun.

It didn’t make her cool.

Tears welled in her eyes again, and she dashed them furiously away. Stop it. They’d been hooking up; that was it. She couldn’t expect Cole to just up and leave a job opportunity in Australia after all he’d been through in the past six months, to stay here and be with her and her suddenly malfunctioning tear ducts.

She was just…lonely. That was all. That’s what Cole’s little stay had shown her. She was so busy keeping everything humming along, she didn’t take time for herself—she didn’t hang out with friends or go out on girls’ nights. So of course it had been nice to have company.

Clearly, that had to change when she got back to California, in case she started looking at every guy who crossed her path in a completely inappropriate way.

“I can’t believe how amazing this room turned out.”

Jane blinked rapidly as CC Carter—Wade’s wife and the woman who’d employed her—entered the room. She was in a light cotton dress, the fabric loose around her eight-month-pregnant belly. She and Wade had arrived this morning with the furniture-moving people and were staying on for a few days after the magazine shoot to spend some time with Wade’s parents. They were heading back to Denver after that for the baby’s impending birth.

“I keep coming in here to stare at it.”

“Yeah.” Jane laughed. “Me, too.”

CC looked up at the chandelier, one hand absently rubbing her bump. “All of the chandeliers look incredible. How on earth did you get them so sparkly?”

Jane didn’t think CC wanted to hear from the wash of a million tears. So she smiled and said, “Cotton gloves, soapy water, and elbow grease.”

“I can’t wait to see it all lit up in a couple of hours.”

“It’s lovely,” Jane said wistfully, remembering the first time she’d flicked the switch after she’d finished cleaning. “It lights up like a concert stage, and it throws rainbows on the wallpaper.”

That had made her cry, too. Ugh. Eye roll.

“Oh.” CC smiled and fluttered her hand over her décolletage. “I’m so excited.” Jane laughed, and CC joined in before sobering a little and tipping her head in the direction of the kitchen. “Wade and I are having a drink out back. It’s depressingly nonalcoholic, but we’d love for you to join us.”

“Ah, sure.” Jane had only just met Wade today. She’d never really followed football, but she’d known of him, of course. He seemed really nice and clearly devoted to his wife.

God… Blink. Blink. Do not cry again.

“I just want to give the room another once-over.”

“Okay.” CC nodded. “See you out there,” she said as she departed.

Left alone again, Jane refused to get sappy about or be jealous of the easy banter and obvious love between Wade and CC. They were a sweet couple—good for them—it had nothing to do with her or her circumstances, and she needed to check the floor.

Again. For the tenth time today.

Casting her eyes down, she let them rove over the parquetry. Truth was, she didn’t need to check it at all—it was perfect. She just couldn’t stop looking at it. It was a visual feast, and the privilege she felt at being the person that had been entrusted with its care and restoration would, she hoped, always be with her.

A knock on the front door interrupted her feast, and her heart rate spiked a little. Cole? But Cole had a key, or at least knew where it was, so why would he knock? She frowned as she hurried to see who it was, knowing that Wade and CC wouldn’t have heard the knock from out back. Had the magazine people arrived early?

It wasn’t the magazine people. It was Cole. Standing on the portico like he hadn’t been AWOL for a week.

“Hi,” Jane said, vaguely aware of a car pulling away from the curb behind his head as her eyes devoured the breadth of him and her pulse fluttered madly at her wrists and temples.

He was wearing dark blue trousers that clung to his powerful quads and a yellow shirt. The top two buttons were undone, and his shoulders were really testing out the seams as he leaned on his stick. His dark, unruly hair had been pulled back into a man bun, and his jawline sported a five-o’clock shadow.

It was so different to his usual board shorts and T-shirt it caused a pulse to flutter right between her legs.

A slight smile curved his mouth at the corners. “Hey.”

And then neither of them said anything for a moment or two as Jane tried to process that he was actually here. In Credence. Despite his text, she’d been sure she was never going to see him again, and to have him standing here—so close she could feel the heat coming off his body, smell the sweet, heady aroma of his aftershave—was unexpected.

Overwhelming.

Things stirring inside her chest—growing and expanding—were making it difficult to breathe. For one awful moment, she thought she might cry, and she panicked at the thought. What the hell was happening to her? God…she wasn’t developing feelings for him, was she?

No. She’d known him for two weeks. She’d just…missed his company, that’s all this was. “I suppose you’ve come for your things?” She forced the words out as she clung tight to the doorknob, quelling the urge to lift her foot and fling herself into his arms.

She’d known him for two weeks. He lived in Australia.

The small smile on his mouth disappeared. “No.” He shook his head. “I’ve come for you.”

Jane would have been inhuman had her heart not skipped a beat. In fact, hers skipped several. But she stayed put, her grip on the doorknob so tight now she was surprised it didn’t just buckle in her hand. “What does that mean?”

He glanced over her shoulder. “Do you think I could come in so we could talk?”

“No.” It might not be her place to deny a friend of Wade’s access to Wade’s house, particularly when he was in residence, but she needed to be out in public with this man. She’d missed him, and that may cause her to do something dumb, like drag him into her magnificent red sitting room and have her way with him, and that was not going to help the situation.

Or be good for the parquetry.

“Okay.”

“What does it mean?” Jane repeated.

“It means—” He shoved a hand in his hair, dropping it to his side when his man bun stopped his fingers from going any farther. His gaze settled on hers and held. “I love you. And I want to be with you.”

Jane blinked. And blinked again. Love? Her heart banged so loud she thought it had exploded. Love? That was… They’d been with each other for two weeks. That was madness.

Sure, it was fair to say she had a bad case of lust for Cole Hauser, and she was pretty sure that was reciprocated.

But love? How absolutely preposterous.

Tad had always maintained he knew he loved her within a couple of hours, but it had taken her much longer to fall for him. And besides, Tad had cheated on her, and they were divorced—hardly a great advertisement for the staying power of instalove.

“Well?” He gave her a tentative smile. “Are you going to say anything?”

Oh yeah. She was saying something, all right. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard.”

“I know. It’s totally bonkers. But there it is.”

“You were here for two weeks.” She folded her arms. “We didn’t even have sex until the second week.”

“I know. I’m as surprised as you are. But I do—”

He took a step forward, halting abruptly when she shrank. Sighing, he retreated, walking to the edge of the portico, his limp minimal. He glanced up and down the street for a long few moments before turning back, his hands in his pockets.

“I didn’t plan on this, Jane, and frankly it’s highly bloody inconvenient. But you burst into my life from that first night in your underwear with those pliers at half past stupid hour, and nothing’s been the same ever since.”

“No.” She shook her head. He was just misappropriating the feelings that were coming from below his belt. Given she was subject to them as well, Jane could see how they could easily be confused. “I think you’re equating lust with love, Cole.”

His eyes found hers and held as he very slowly shook his head from side to side. “I’m thirty-two years old, Jane. I’ve been in lust a lot. I know what that feels like. It’s physical. This thing I’m feeling is emotional and way deeper than my dick. It’s like my chest is going to burst with it—there’s just too much to contain. Lust doesn’t…wreck you. It’s easy, not hard. Love is hard. Love is a real prick.” He grimaced. “I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t want Shakespeare.”

Jane might’ve laughed had this not been so serious. Cole may not be reciting poetry, but goose bumps broke out on her arms anyway. He sounded so utterly certain, and part of her, a wild beating thing roaming free inside her, was whispering treacherous things, like…maybe he’s right and why not?

Because, that’s why. Because it couldn’t be love. She wouldn’t let it be love. She didn’t have time in her life for someone else. Something else. And how would they even make it work? “This…what we had…was a holiday fling, and everyone knows they don’t work out, Cole. People aren’t themselves on vacation. They’re happy and relaxed and carefree. Nothing we had was real.”

“That’s bullshit, Jane.” He didn’t say it angrily, but his words were terse. “For a start, I was on holiday; you weren’t. And I’ve been realer with you than I’ve ever been with anyone. This accident has stripped me right back to my core, and that’s how you saw me. I’m as real as I’ve ever been.”

“No, that’s bullshit.” It was Jane’s turn for terse words as she took two steps toward him, onto the portico, her pulse whooshing like rapids through her ears. How dare he try to pretend he was being real? “You weren’t on holiday, either. You were hiding away here from the rest of the world. From life. And I was the distraction from your career crap. I was a…pleasant interlude, and you’re confusing that. You’re not in love with me. People don’t fall in love in two weeks.”

He shrugged. “I did.” He withdrew his hands from his pockets and clasped them together in front like he wanted to reach out for her but knew he shouldn’t, settling for something that looked a lot like begging. “Let me spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

She shut her eyes briefly. This was pie in the sky, and damn him for putting it out there. “And when did you have this epiphany? You’ve been gone a week.”

“I wanted to get my ducks in a row. I know there are barriers and challenges for a relationship between us, and I wanted to make it possible to be together.”

Barriers and challenges? Jane snorted—now there was an understatement.

Aside from the sheer logistics, the fact was she and Cole weren’t the only people in this equation. There was Finn, and he was the most important factor. Jane didn’t get the luxury of acting on a whim or giving things a try.

Finn was already madly infatuated with Cole—taking a chance, letting him prove his love and it not working out would have an impact on more than her.

If Finn never saw Cole again now, he’d be disappointed. He’d talk about him for a while and miss him a little, but he’d soon forget. If they went with the pie in the sky Cole was selling and started seeing each other regularly and it didn’t work?

Finn would be devastated.

He already had one split home. Why would she risk that again? She’d have to be really sure, and how could she be after two weeks? “This isn’t just about me.”

“I know that.”

He stepped closer then, and Jane’s heart skipped a beat. “Finn is my priority.”

“I know that, too.” He nodded. “I know you and Finn are a package deal, that you’re a team. But Jane…” He lifted his hands to reach for her, then dropped them, obviously thinking better of it. “I love that little guy just as much as I love you, and I want to be part of his life as much as I want to be part of yours. He’s such a great kid.”

Jane snorted. “You’ve known him for two weeks. You haven’t seen him at his worst. When he’s cranky or having a tantrum or sick or clingy or crying. You haven’t had to read the same boring book to him every night over and over and over for weeks on end until you want to pluck your eyes out. You don’t know how stubborn he can be, how naughty. How he can push your buttons.”

“You’re right. I don’t. I don’t know a lot of that. But I want to. I want to be there for it all. The good and the bad.”

“God, Cole…” She shook her head sadly. “That’s not the worst part. The worst part is he’ll love you.” Finn would love Cole deeply. “He’ll fall hard.”

Her voice cracked a little at the thought, and he took a step toward her, his brow suddenly creased with concern. She waved him back to his spot. It was important she said this because there was no way anyone was more invested in Finn and his well-being than she was.

“And you can’t just walk away if you’re over all the challenges. Because it will devastate him. He was too young when Tad and I split to remember any of that time. As far as he’s concerned, Tad and me living in two separate houses is normal. But if you come on the scene and love him and leave him at some point down the track because it’s hard—and it will be, because it is—he will remember. And I will hate you for that. A kid’s for life, Cole, not just a vacation.”

“I know that, Jane. God…trust me, I more than anyone understand how devastating it is when someone you love and trust betrays that love and trust. And I would never do that to Finn. Never. I would not be here in front of you now if I wasn’t one hundred percent committed to both of you. I am here for the long haul.”

The conviction in his voice rang sure and clear, and Jane might not know much else for sure, but she knew Cole meant what he said. She knew he truly understood the kinds of psychological wounds that could be inflicted on a child, and when he said he wouldn’t ever do that, she believed him.

“Let me love you, Jane. Please.” He took a step toward her, and she didn’t try to wave him back this time. “Let me love both of you.”

She shut her eyes. The picture he was painting was so damn seductive… She didn’t even realize she’d missed being loved until he’d put it so temptingly out there. But how could he be so sure after such a short amount of time? She couldn’t afford to gamble like that.

“Cole?”

Jane’s eyes flew open, and she blinked rapidly to quell the prickle at the backs of her eyes as she and Cole both took a startled step back. A grinning Wade joined them on the portico. “Dude, I didn’t know you’d arrived.”

CC also joined them, and Jane shot her an awkward smile as Wade, clearly oblivious to the tension between her and Cole, pulled him into a back-slapping bear hug. CC glanced between them, obviously a little more in tune to the vibe.

“God, how long has it been?” Wade asked as he released Cole from his enthusiastic embrace.

“Long time,” Cole said, his smile fixed and awkward.

“Oh, you haven’t met CC.”

Wade performed the introductions, and Cole indulged in some painfully polite chitchat about the baby, but Jane was aware of the way his gaze kept straying to her, even though she didn’t return it.

“Well, come on, then,” Wade said. “Why are we all standing around out here? We’re having drinks out back. We were just coming to find Jane to see what was keeping her. Come on in and join us.”

Jane stiffened a little, wondering if it would be rude to say no. Cole glanced at her, clearly trying to ascertain if it was okay to accept the invitation. CC looked from one to the other, a little frown between her brows. “Oh, hey, honey…” She smiled at Wade. “I’ve got a better idea. Why don’t you and Cole go to Jack’s and catch up for a bit?”

Wade frowned, looking at his wife. “Because the beer here is free.” He glanced at Cole, then at Jane, then back at his wife. His brow also started to crease like he might be finally catching the stilted vibe.

“Wade Carter, you’re richer than god. Take this man to a bar.”

There was a moment or two of silence when Wade glanced around the group again several times, then back to CC.

“You can talk as much football as you want,” she said, nodding encouragingly, “and Jane and I can talk about cracked nipples and episiotomies.”

Wade blinked. “Episi what?”

She patted his shoulder. “It’s where they cut—”

“Okay.” Wade quickly shut his wife down, looking a little green around the gills. He turned to Cole. “You up for Jack’s?”

Cole looked about as up for Jack’s as Wade did, but he nodded anyway. “Sure. Why not.”

“Okay then.” Wade dropped a kiss on CC’s forehead, then gestured to the stairs. “After you,” he said to Cole.

Jane and CC watched them walk down the stairs, down the path, and out the gate before CC moved. “Shall we go in?” she suggested gently, sliding a hand under Jane’s elbow like Jane was the pregnant one requiring assistance.

Lordy…she must look bad.

Jane nodded, and they walked inside, CC shutting the door behind them. “Please tell me to mind my own business if this is a giant overstep,” she said as Jane stopped in the middle of the entrance hall and CC had to step around her. “But…are you in love with Cole Hauser?”

Jane sucked in a breath as the truth sucker punched her. “Yes.”

God help her, she was. She didn’t know when it had happened, but she couldn’t deny it any longer. She couldn’t label it as something else. It was pure, old-fashioned, smack-you-upside-the-head, hit-you-like-a-ton-of-bricks love.

And she promptly burst into tears.