Unbelievable (33 page)

“I’m in shock, complete shock.” I leaned against the table, still in disbelief.

Maggie gathered up the food. “I have to go. I got the text to come get Miss Ethel.”

“I’ll see you at the trailer around five
, then. Oh, here are some drawings for Booker.” I removed four sheets of paper from my sketch pad to hand to her, but she was halfway to the building already.

“Cole’s having dinner with Booker tonight. Just run them in to him,” she called over her shoulder, sprinting to the hospital door. “See you later.”

“But . . .” I said to no one. With apprehension, I tucked the sketches back inside the pad, and with drooped shoulders, went inside. I worried about seeing Cole alone, yet the anticipation sent ripples of excitement through me. My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I stepped into the elevator. I stood outside his office door for a few moments to muster my courage before knocking twice.

“Come in.” Cole’s voice sent a jolt to my heart. I shoved against the door a couple times. They still hadn’t fixed the dumb thing. Finally it flew open, with me right behind.

“Lilah.” Cole jumped to his feet as I sailed into the room.

“Hi. Ah . . . sorry to bother you . . .”

“You’re not bothering me.” He came around the desk looking so freakin’ hot, I dropped my gaze to the floor to keep from drooling again. “Maggie tells me you’re redoing her trailer.”

“We’re doing it together
, actually,” I said.

“Yes.”

After several seconds of awkward silence I continued. “She has real talent. An eye for color and for décor.”

“Maggie’s told me that she’s enjoying it,” he said, stepping closer.

We both stood there looking everywhere but at each other. Once again an awkward silence choked the room.

“Anyway, Maggie asked me to give you these sketches I made for Booker. They’re more of Daddy’s disguises.” I dug out the drawings and handed them to him. Cole looked at me, his eyebrows pinched together in a look of confusion. “Maggie said you were having dinner with Booker,” I reminded him.

“Why didn’t she take them? She’ll see him long before I will.”

I made a mental note to kill Maggie, figuratively, when I saw her again for setting me up.

The awkwardness surrounding us sucked the thrill out of seeing Cole again, especially remembering how we used to be with each other. I wanted out of the suffocating space. I shrugged and headed for the door. “You’ll have to ask her about that. See ya,” I said, tugging on the door. It wouldn’t open. I groaned silently.

“I’ll get it. It’s gotten worse. Maintenance
’s promised all week to fix it.” He pulled several times, before it finally gave way, only Cole didn’t expect it. He stumbled backwards, arms flailing, knocking the sketch pad out of my hands, scattering several of my drawings.

“Sorry.” He immediately stooped to pick up my papers, stopping dead when he came to the drawing of him and the little girl. He also eyed a sketch of Maggie in her wedding dress I’d been working on.

Cole straightened, glaring at me. “So, you make a few sketches for Booker to appease him, hoping he’ll think you’re legit, but in reality you’re making sketches of us for your father.”

I’d had enough. Dealing with both Booker and my father was pushing me to the breaking point. I hated being followed everywhere I went. My privacy was constantly invaded. My phone conversations were monitored and my apartment bugged. Enough.

“You got me. My dad needed a picture of you in the ER so he could pick you out when he arrives, because everyone knows you live, eat, and breathe this place. Seriously, where else would he search for you?” My voice dripped in acerbity.

“And Maggie,” I tossed my arms in the air, “well, she walks around town wearing her wedding dress. I mean, how’d Daddy recognize her in a crowd without this drawing?”

He stepped up to me. “You brought this on yourself,” he yelled. He actually yelled.

If I wasn’t so angry I’d have cheered, but instead I shouted back, “I will not apologize anymore!” My finger poked his chest. “I’ve done everything and more that I’ve been asked to do. If that’s not good enough for you, then it’s your problem. I’m done groveling.”

“Whose fault is it that you feel the need to grovel, Lilah?”

One minute we stood there screaming at each other, the next I was in his arms, kissing him as though my life depended on it.

My heart raced. An uncontrollable response to the thrill of being in his arms again surged through me. I told myself to pull away, run, but quickly shut that part of my brain off, instead reveling in the moment with the man I desperately loved. I was drowning in him, and I just didn’t care. I didn’t care that in two short months Daddy would arrive, and I’d have to run to keep Cole safe. Until that black day, I wanted to relish every last second of him.

I tasted my tears as our lips searched each other’s. My hands fisted in his hair and held his face tight to mine. I have no idea how long we stood there, but it wasn’t long enough.

He crushed his mouth to mine, deepening the pressure of his hungry lips. Finally, we stopped, each pulling back with haggard breath.

“I love you,” I said, tugging him around and pushing him onto the desk’s corner. We were eye to eye now. He cupped my face and pulled me in for a soft, tender kiss. “Every time I said it I meant it,” I whispered, resting my forehead on his. “I’m sorry for being a coward when it comes to my father. I’m sorry for lying to you, to everyone.” I wiped the tears from my face. “I know
it’s just an excuse, but I really did think he was only after the money. I never lied about loving you. Not ever.” I peppered his brow with my kisses. “I’ll earn your trust back, Cole. I promise.”

“You hurt me, Lilah. Deeply. I’d be lying if I said the wounds are healed,” Cole said softly, pulling me against him. “It’s going to take me some time to trust you completely again.”

I laid my head on his shoulder, reiterating, “I’m sorry.”

He ran a hand through my hair. “We’ll get through this, Lilah. It may take a while, but we will,” he vowed.

“Looks like I’ll be thanking Maggie for tricking me into coming to your office.” I traced circles on his arm as I spoke. “I like your new clothes, by the way, especially the jeans.” I bounced on his chest as he laughed.

“I’m still adjusting to them. Honestly, scrubs are ten times more comfortable.”

I looked into his beautiful blue eyes, biting my lower lip. “Maybe, but they are not nearly as sexy.” His ears turned pink. Man, I missed that. I ran my finger over one. He shivered.

“Do you like the motorcycle?” he asked, smiling widely.

“
Love
it.”

“I knew you would.” His eyes danced in amusement. “Want to go for a ride?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” I grabbed my sketches from the desk and raced for the door. “It’s been forever since I’ve been on a motorcycle. I love the sensation of wind blowing through my hair. Very liberating.”

“Blowing through your hair, as in
no helmet?”
Cole asked, tugging the door open easily. The thing had to be possessed.

I looped his arm in mine as we walked down the hall. “Riding a motorcycle with a helmet is for nerds.”
Cole stopped mid-stride, staring at me in stupefied shock. I quickly added, “But it’s the only way I’ll ever ride on a motorcycle again.”

“You got that right,” he muttered as we continued to the elevators. “Riding
without
a helmet is for nerds.”

I didn’t wait for the doors to shut before slipping my arms around his neck again. “I’m glad you didn’t get rid of Opie completely,” I teased.

“Not wearing scrubs all the time or allowing people to take advantage of me has nothing to do with being smart. Do you know how many . . .” as he quoted the statistics on motorcycle accidents and the traumas suffered between those who wore helmets versus those who didn’t, I fingered his hair, pretending to listen. I had him back in my life, statistics and all.

**

“This is your house?” I asked for the second time, unbuckling my helmet. He’d gotten me an orange one, to my surprise. He couldn’t understand why I was surprised since we didn’t break up. I considered pointing out that after not hearing from him in five days I assumed he’d washed his hands of me, but then decided not to risk him rethinking his decision.

“Come, I’ll show you around.” We walked up the brick pathway to the gorgeous yellow Cape Cod.

Cole tried two different keys before finding the right one. “I never remember which one it is,” he said, pushing the door open.

I stepped into a lovely entryway with Travertine tile flooring. It extended about ten feet to a half wall, with two round pillars reaching from the half-wall to the ceiling. Through the entryway we stepped into a spacious living room. Spacious and very empty, with the exception of a blue futon that had seen better days.

“Did the previous owners leave that?” I pointed to the sad little thing.

“No. I’ve had that since college. I intended to use it as a temporary couch until I got around to furnishing the place, but as you can see, that’s not happened.” He attempted to fluff up the flat blue cushion.

“Until you got around . . . Cole, how long have you owned this house?”

“Not quite five years,” he admitted, sheepishly.

“And you’ve never done anything with it?” I failed to hide my astonishment.

“I’m seldom here. The space is too big and empty, I could never get used to it.” He scanned the room casually. Clearly he held no ties to the space. If it were to burn down tomorrow, it probably wouldn’t affect him in the least.

“I’ll show you the rest.” He took my hand, drawing it to his lips as we crossed the living room.

“This is the dining room. You probably figured that out by the folding table and two chairs.” He pointed to a door in the room. “Through here’s an incredible kitchen. Too bad I can’t cook.” He flashed me a crooked grin as we walked into the room

Unlike every room I’d seen so far, the kitchen shined. Beautiful dark oak beams crossed the ceiling, and dark gray stone graced the floor. The cabinets were a soft gray with raised panels. An antique white island cabinet stood in the center of the vast room. Black granite tied everything together beautifully. Whoever designed this knew what they were doing.

“When I bought the house it wasn’t finished. The builder had run out of money. Booker got it for me at a really great price. This kitchen was an empty shell. Only the plumbing and sheetrock were in place. Booker designed the whole thing and built the cabinets.

“Isn’t he just the talented one?” I murmured.

“Maggie said he’s been pretty hard on you.” Cole led me down a hall next.

“That’s putting it mildly. Of course if I thought someone wanted to kill all of my friends, I’d probably be the same way.”

“He’ll come around, I promise, and when he does, he’ll be your staunchest defender, next to me, of course.”

Yeah, so I’ve been told. I just smiled.

He opened a door to a bedroom, but that’s not how I saw it. The two windows reached from ceiling to floor, like all the windows in the home, but the northern light that poured in through these made them perfect for painting by.

“This is what I envisioned as my office someday.” Cole followed me in. “Bookshelves over here, a desk on the far wall,” he gestured.

“This is a great room. The lighting’s terrific.” I walked over to the windows and gazed out. The lot backed up to a small creek and several trees.

“That’s right, you artists like northern lighting.” He came up behind and rested his hands on my shoulders.

“This view’s
why I let Book talk me into this property. I imagined my sons building forts in those trees, and catching frogs in the muddy creek.”

“And your wife doing lots of laundry,” I pointed out.

“There’s a first floor laundry I forgot to show you. I don’t have a washer or dryer yet,” he admitted.

“How do you wash your clothes?”

“Booker’s house, or the Laundromat.” He shrugged. “Now you understand my new resolve even more.” He stroked the back of his hand along my jaw. “I do love you so.”

He kissed me before I could respond. I let my kiss be his answer. I did a pretty good job of it too, until a loud slam jolted
both of us. Cole pulled back. “Hold on. We’re about to hit the rapids.” He held tight to my hand and led me into the living room.

And to Booker.

Chapter 28