Edible (12 page)

His mother smiled at him, and as the warmth of it met her hazel eyes, the same color as his own, he felt his heart break at the lack of recognition in them.

“Oh, of course, please. Just pull that chair over here, and we can have a chat until she comes back. I love visitors.”

Cole shrugged out of his coat and pulled up the plush sitting chair beside her. Taking a seat, he watched her as she fussed for a minute with her hair.

She straightened her robe before she turned to face him. “So, what is your name?”

Cole grinned at the same question she would ask him every week. “Cole. My name is Cole.”

“Oh, what a lovely name. It’s strong.”

“Thank you. My mother thought so. What’s your name?”

“My name is Lydia.”

Looking out to the snow falling silently onto the balcony railing, Cole whispered softly, “That’s a beautiful name.”

“What’s that?” she asked, not hearing him.

“I said that’s a beautiful name. My mother’s name is Lydia.”

“Really?” she asked with a warm expression that always reminded him of happiness, safety, and home. “What a coincidence.”

“Yes, it really is.” He chuckled as he pushed his hand into his pocket and pulled out two caramels. “Do you like caramel, Lydia?”

She looked at the white wax paper in his hand before raising her eyes back to his. “Why, yes; yes, I do. How funny.” She giggled like a little girl as she got up from the chair.

Cole knew exactly where she was headed.

After picking up the music box, she came back to him and sat down. “I keep my caramels in here, but I ran out this morning. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Cole shook his head and handed her one of the candies. He watched her unwrap it as he undid his own. Just as she popped it into her mouth, she gave him a grin that made all his annoyance at Nurse Becky Parnell melt away.

“My little boy loves caramel.”

“Does he?”

She nodded as she sucked the candy and closed her eyes. “He would eat them all day if I let him. He can be such a naughty little thing.”

As she started to hum again, Cole also closed his eyes as he tried to remind himself it was good to talk to her about these things. He had been told it would keep her mind active. It was something he could do to help her.

It was a pity though that no one had an answer on how to make
his
heart and mind stop hurting. That was something he had no control over, and that made him feel absolutely fucking helpless.

It was amazing how long two days could drag
, Rachel thought as she woke up on Sunday morning.

She had not been sleeping well. Between the nightmares of her past and dreams revolving around a man she had begrudgingly decided she
needed
to see again, she was surprised she hadn’t fallen asleep at work on Saturday night.

Pushing back the covers, she swung her feet over the edge of the bed and stretched as she ran a hand through her hair, pulling it off her face. Quickly, she secured it with a hair tie before she got up and made her way to her closet.

Once she was dressed in her baggy red gym shorts and tight black sports bra, she sat back on the bed to lace up her shoes, and then she grabbed her black hoodie and put it on. Moving in front of the full-length mirror, Rachel looked up and down at her reflection as she picked up the tape and spread her fingers. She wrapped it first around her wrist and then her knuckles. After her hand was bound the way she had been taught, she lifted the dangling tape to her mouth, used her teeth to cut the end, and secured it in place before she repeated the process on the other hand. Flexing her fingers, she jabbed her fists out in front of her a couple times and smiled.
Oh yeah, it’s time to go and kick some ass.

With her boxing gloves shoved in her gym bag, she opened the fridge, grabbed a protein shake for breakfast, and ran past the side table on her way out the door. She never missed an opportunity to beat up the bag.

A couple of hours later, Rachel was stepping out of her class when she spotted Shelly and Lena getting off the treadmills. Waving at them, she made sure she plastered on a wide smile as she stopped in front of the girls.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the late-night streetwalker,” Lena quipped as she swung a small towel over her shoulder.

Rachel gave Lena a shocked look and tried to hide her grin. “Honestly, Lena, how am I ever going to have a successful sex life if I have to check in with Mason every night?”

Shelly let out a laugh and shook her head as they all moved toward the front doors. “Well, at least he doesn’t know about Whipped. If he ever found out, he’d never back off.”

Rachel looked over at the perfectly put-together blonde with the shit-eating grin.

How did I end up being so close to these two women?
They were the furthest things from herself that she could have found.

“I’ll have you know that I haven’t been there for quite a while.”

“Oh, and why’s that?” Lena uncapped the water bottle she was holding and took a gulp.

“Did a certain someone run you off your stomping grounds?” Shelly teased.

Resisting the urge to punch her in the arm, Rachel zipped her jacket as she glared at Shelly. “Can it, Georgia. Cole Madison did not run me from anywhere. I just haven’t been in the mood, and I haven’t been sleeping well lately.”

“Why not?” Lena asked, concern showing in her green eyes.

Rachel turned to Lena and thought about how close they had become, as though she were her own sister. “I keep having dreams. Well, they’re nightmares actually, but that doesn’t matter. That’s all they are.” Slinging her gym bag over her arm, Rachel turned to Shelly. “Are we still going to your place for lunch?”

Shelly nodded and pulled her sweater over her head. “Yeah, Josh said to remind you to pick up the beer.”

Rachel rolled her eyes as they pushed open the doors and walked out into the cool air. “Of course he did. Those two never could watch Sunday football without beer.”

Rubbing her arms, Rachel promised to be there at two. She waved once and made a dash down the street. Luckily for her, even if the rent was too high, her place was only a hop, skip, and jump away from the gym they all worked out at.

It’s official. I hate football,
Rachel thought as she sat on the couch. She started to zone out while Josh and Mason yelled at the TV, and Lena and Shelly talked about work. As much as she hated to admit it, she had started to feel like the fifth wheel lately.

Who would have ever thought these two would end up so committed? Certainly, not me
, she thought incredulously.

It wasn’t as though she begrudged anyone a happy ending, but the way both Mason and Josh had become so domestic almost mystified her. All they needed were a pair of rug rats to complete the picture of domestic bliss.

Oh, who am I to be sitting here, envying them their happiness?
They all deserved it. It wasn’t their fault she was feeling the way she was and at the rate she was going maybe she could be the old single aunt with the bright hair.

Hell, I knew I should’ve stayed home and dyed my hair today, I’m even annoying myself.

Standing, Rachel excused herself and made her way down the hall to the bathroom. As she passed a room that Shelly must have converted into what now looked like an office and gym, Rachel smiled and moved across the space to the punching bag hanging from the ceiling.

This is what I need installed in my place.
The only problem was that she didn’t own her place. She rented, so bolts in her ceiling beams were not allowed.

Turning to leave for the bathroom, she walked past the old desk in the corner and happened to glance down. There, sitting on the desk, was an official-looking piece of paper that had
Mitchell & Madison, Attorneys at Law
written across the top.

Cole.

Rachel felt her pulse accelerate as if he were in the room with her. Gingerly, she let her fingers creep onto the paper as she pulled it closer to the edge of the desk. Ignoring the contents beneath the header, she peered at the writing across the top, focusing on the address and phone number printed boldly under the firm’s name.

Before she could even think about it, she took out her phone and snapped a picture of the letterhead. She dashed out of the office, ran straight into the bathroom, and locked the door behind her. Moving to the edge of the tub, she sat and stared at the number.

It’s Sunday. He wouldn’t be there today. Would he?
What if he is?

Quickly, she dialed the number before she could change her mind. After three rings, just as she suspected, a recorded message came over the line.

“Hello. You have reached the law office of Mitchell & Madison, and we are currently closed. If this is an emergency, you can reach Logan Mitchell at 312-555-1467 or Cole Madison at 312-555-7173. Thank you, and have a good day.”

Rachel hung up and stared at the phone. She thought about what she was going to do for less than two seconds before she hit redial. She quickly typed the digits following Cole’s name into her contacts. After she ended the call this time, she stared at his number like it would bite her.

Should I or shouldn’t I?

Oh, what the hell.

Cole was halfway home from Lake Forest when his phone began ringing, the sounds coming through his car speakers. Glancing at the display, he didn’t recognize the 773 area code number offhand. Pressing the button on his steering wheel, he was about to answer as a car cut in front of him.

“Jesus!” he cursed as he slammed on the brakes.

He noticed there was silence in the vehicle, and he realized no one had said anything on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry. Hello?”

More silence. “Hello?” he greeted again.

That was when the call ended.

He stopped at a red light and decided to call the number. With the unprofessional way he had answered, maybe the caller hadn’t realized it was him. As the call connected, he waited for a greeting. When nothing came, he decided to speak up. “Hello, this is Cole Madison. You just called me. I wasn’t sure if you had the wrong number.”

The light turned green, and he slowly pushed his foot on the accelerator, letting his Peugeot purr as it began to move.