Chapter 11
CHAPTER 11
C ole Carter’s Review
Iron discipline:1 star
I’ve always been proud of my self-restraint, honed from years of practice. Only right now it’s stopping me from what I want most of all. Sarah is more beautiful than I ever imagined, yet there is far more to her.
The woman beneath the beauty is the most alluring of all.
How far was he willing to go?
It was a question Cole asked himself once and then a hundred times as he caressed supple skin and traced pink curves. Sarah shivered under his touch, betraying his effect on her, despite the circumstances. Where, when and why never mattered when they fit together so perfectly.
Yet for her safety, he had to end it as soon as possible. He wanted to arrest the men as much as she did, but it might not go smoothly without backup. The criminals had a lot to lose if they were caught – they wouldn’t go down without a fight. The best way to safeguard Sarah was to wait, and the best way to do that was to stall.
If only stalling wasn’t so enjoyable. He couldn’t go all the way, of course, not even close. At some point they would have to force the arrest. So he moved his hand in leisurely slowness as he explored. His encircled her waist, moved lower, lower, lower….
The door burst open.
“Freeze! Police!”
Sarah jerked as a dozen police officers in full uniform stormed the house. Momentum pushed her flush against him, tender limbs against solid muscle, softness against hardness. Intense desire seized him, to protect, to possess, to have and to hold. If they had been alone, he would have captured her as every instinct demanded.
Unfortunately, he knew what he had to do now.
With willpower honed with military precision, he moved away, breaking the contact. Desire overfilled those beautiful eyes as they locked gazes in a million minutes of silence. A heartbeat later, she composed herself.
The other men groaned and shouted, but with so many officers, they had no choice but to immediately surrender. Cole moved back as two officers rushed him. “Hands up!”
Of course, they wouldn’t know who he was. Wise enough not to disobey officers in the heat of the moment, he complied. “I’m a cop. I work with Sheriff Sloan.”
Guns still drawn, the officers looked to Sarah for confirmation.
Who should’ve immediately given it. Instead, she looked at him and…
Smiled.
And suddenly, every thought in that beautiful head of hers became clear. The little wildcat was considering temporary amnesia. As in momentarily forgetting he was a cop.
He narrowed his eyes. Gave his own wicked smile. Let her know without words exactly what he would do if she even contemplated such a move.
“Do you know him?” the cop asked.
She hesitated a second more, then finally spoke, “Yeah. He’s with the Harmony Creek P.D.”
Cole let out a deep breath. He hadn’t actually thought she’d do it, but his assumptions about Sarah had grown shaky lately. So had his assumptions about himself.
When he’d first spotted her pretending to be a prostitute, he’d wanted to lift her up and carry her caveman style back to his lair. The urge had been strong, compelling and nearly insurmountable. When the thug had suggested sharing, a raging volcano had consumed him, threatening his normally stalwart control. That control had slipped yet again when they’d gotten close, only in an entirely different way. Even now he wasn’t sure how far he would’ve gone. He was sure about something, however:
He was in trouble.
With Sarah, matters were far more than physical. More than plain desire, basic lust, simple attraction. A connection existed between them, always had and always would. It was time to stop ignoring it.
The police officers were wrapping up the arrests and leading the men out. They debriefed Sarah and Cole, and he learned the exact details of the plan, as well as the reason for the delay. Apparently, a tractor-trailer had overturned, and the cops had to wait precious minutes to circumvent it. Now he understood why she’d left her equipment at home, although he was grateful he’d come. If he hadn’t–
He shook his head, even as his heart slammed pure fear at the thought. He had come, and that’s all that mattered. He had been here to protect her.
That felt more right than he ever imagined.
* * * *
“Thanks for the lift again.” Sarah shifted in the butter leather seat, as the charming buildings of Harmony Creek came into view. Outside the tinted windows, the sun was shining brightly, bathing red brick homes in amber light and painting a postcard visage of lush green lawns and rainbow wildflowers. The scent of lilies permeated the car, mixed with Cole’s tantalizing spicy aroma. His stalwart presence both calmed and excited her, eliciting an impossible tangle of anticipation, desire and unease.
The mission had been a success, albeit in an unexpected way. Although she was grateful for Cole’s assistance – she wouldn’t think about how it could’ve gone otherwise – she hadn’t planned another ride in his sleek vehicle, next to the disconcerting man. Only her car was still in the shop and Harmony Creek didn’t have enough patrol cars for every officer, so she’d left the vehicle for the deputy working the day shift. She’d taken a bus to the assignment, and one of the local deputies planned to drive her back. When Cole offered to give her a ride, she couldn’t inconvenience the deputy. So here she was again, only this time she wasn’t wearing a whole lot.
“That’s the most grudging thank you I ever heard.” Cole’s eyes twinkled. “You sound like you’re thanking me for running over your dog.”
Had it sounded that bad? Of course, he was running over her general ability to think straight. “I appreciate the help,” she conceded. “However, you did infiltrate my mission, not to mention my–” She stopped. What had she been about to say? My personal space, my sanity, me?
Darkened eyes said he knew exactly how he affected her. “You weren’t exactly on your best behavior. Don’t think I didn’t notice your hesitation when they asked if I was a cop. Did you suddenly forget who I was?”
Now she smiled. “You know, my memory isn’t perfect. Sometimes I forget the silliest things.” She waved her hand. “These lapses just appear out of nowhere. But don’t worry, I always remember… a week or two down the road. I wouldn’t have sent you to jail for too long.”
“I see.”
“Maybe just a week or two.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Perhaps a little longer.”
“You do realize I’m planning on getting you back for this, don’t you?”
“Am I supposed to be afraid?”
He only winked as they turned down the town’s main thoroughfare. They drove in silence for a few moments. “Well, look at that.” He pointed at Miss Ida’s coffee shop. Women were bustling in and out of the town’s premier source for desserts, pastries and coffee.
She looked over. “I wonder what’s going on.”
Then she 1. Stilled. 2. Remembered. 3. Panicked. 4. Did what no self-respecting woman should ever do.
5. She ducked.
Unfortunately, she was in such a frantic rush she didn’t consider exactly where she was ducking. That’s why she suddenly found herself with her head in Cole’s lap .
He almost drove off the road.
He skidded to the right, swore and corrected just in time. She should get up, but if she did, they might see her, setting off a catastrophic chain of events that could end with her engaged to the powerful lawman in whose lap she was currently nestled. She shifted back, fighting to stay hidden, but the awkward position and her lack of acrobatic skill only ended in her rubbing against a very particular spot.
That’s right. There.
It was a nightmare, but it would soon be over. They just had to get past one light and… Wait, was he slowing down? “What are you doing?” she hissed.
“What are you doing?” The usual suspects filled Cole’s voice: shock, incredulity, the accusation she was one bullet short of a full chamber. The car slowed until it came to a complete stop. “Do you realize where you are?”
Yes, she did.
The clucking of numerous women sounded from outside, closer and closer and closer… “We can’t stop here. Move!”
Cole looked down. “There’s a red light. Do you want me to run it?”
“Yes!”
“Sarah…”
“Okay, fine, no! But pretend I’m not here. Don’t make it look like you’re talking to anyone. They can’t see me.”
“You want them to think I’m talking to my car? Why can’t they see you?” He turned to the window, and suddenly understanding dawned. He looked down at her… and smiled.
Oh. Shit.
He waved. Then he reached across her, bringing her into closer contact with that part of his body.
“What are you doing?” she hissed.
“Saying hello.”
“You can’t!”
“Why not? They’re coming over. I’m not going to race away like a bank robber.”
“Yes, you are!”
But, of course, he didn’t. Instead he rolled down the window. And that’s how they all saw her: wearing a top that barely covered her nipples, a miniskirt that didn’t cover her ass and more makeup than a circus clown.
Oh yeah, and her head was in Cole Carter’s crotch.
Sarah slowly sat up, and there they were: the full representation of Harmony Creek’s finest women. Senior citizens. The minister’s wife. The minister’s grandmother.
And they were all staring at her.
The women’s eyes widened as they took in her clothing, or rather lack thereof. “Sherriff Sloan?” Mrs. Carmichael spoke first.
“Uh, hi,” she croaked in a rousing imitation of a hundred-year-old frog. “How are you ladies doing?”
“We’re fine, dear,” Mrs. Carmichael replied. “And you? Are you okay?”
About as fine as a bunny who’d accidentally hopped into the annual werewolf convention on buffet night. “I’m great, fantastic, never been better. Oh, look at that, a green light. We’d better go.”
“That’s okay.” Cole half-choked, half-laughed. “There’s no one behind us.”
“But there must be.” Sarah turned around. Nope, not another car in sight. Not as far as the eye could see.
“You have all the time in the world.” He sat back, reached his arm around her and gave her a wide smile. “Chat away.”
Now would be a really good time to develop a superpower such as invisibility, teleportation, the ability to turn Cole into a bunny during the annual werewolf convention on buffet night.
“Why were you ducking, dear?”
“Ducking?” Sarah blinked at the garden club president. “Ahh, yes. Well, I really wasn’t ducking. I was… uh… looking for something.”
A dozen women looked to where Sarah had been ducking.
Yup, Cole’s crotch.
Mrs. Carmichael opened her mouth, then closed it. “Did you find what you were looking for, dear?”
There was no way out of this. Absolutely no way. Sarah looked out the rearview mirror, prayed for help. She’d take anything, even the annual werewolf convention on buffet night. She shot up when something even better came. “Well, look at that, there’s a car behind us. We’d better get going–”
The car pulled into the turning lane and passed them.
This couldn’t possibly get worse.
“Hi Grandma!”
It just got worse.
Sarah shrank down as two little kindergarteners, the minister’s twin daughters, skipped up. They looked at Sarah and turned to their grandmother. “Grandma, why isn’t the sheriff wearing clothes?”
Sarah made a delightful gagging sound, and the crowd gawked for a week or two. Finally, she regained the use of her mouth. “I…um… it was for an assignment.” The truth. Why hadn’t she thought of the truth? “Cole and I were on assignment.”
The women turned to Cole, who had finally gained enough control to look back with a straight face. Yet amusement danced in his eyes, accompanied by pure mischief. “Really?” he said. “We were? You know, my memory isn’t perfect. Sometimes I just forget the silliest things.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes.
“These lapses just appear out of nowhere. But don’t worry, I always remember… a week or two down the road.”
He winked at her.
The women blinked at her.
The kindergarteners giggled.
“No, really! He’s kidding. We were on assignment. I was pretending to be a prostitute–” She stopped.
“A prostitute?” one of the little girls said.
“What’s a prostitute?” the other little girl said.
“You’re a prostitute?” the minister’s grandmother said.
Before Sarah said something inappropriate, illegal or which would have her run out of town wearing a scarlet letter, Mrs. Carmichael jumped in. “Nothing girls. I think we all know what’s going on here.” She gave Cole and Sarah a meaningful look.
“Know? What? No, you have the wrong idea!” Sarah beseeched Cole, but conveniently for him, he seemed to have become mute in the last thirty seconds.
“Of course, we do, dear.” Mrs. Carmichael patted her arm. “Anyways, now that you’re back early from your… assignment… you can partake in the writers’ club. You’re just in time.”
“The writers’ club?” Cole finally spoke, his muteness obviously a transient condition. “I didn’t know Sarah was a writer.”
“She is, and she submitted a very interesting selection for us to critique today. We were disappointed she had to cancel and are so glad she finished her–” She winked at Cole. “Assignment. So come on in.”
“Oh no. We couldn’t possibly.” Now she felt like the bunny, trying to convince the werewolves she didn’t taste good on a toasted bun with tomatoes and pickles. “I’m sure Cole has something to do.”
“No I don’t.”
“Business?”
“Nope.”
“Errands?”
“Not a one.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“I’d love to stay.”
“But… but…” She searched for help, but there wasn’t a werewolf in sight. She was officially doomed. She slumped back in the seat. “Fine.”
“And just in time.” Cole smiled as he started the car. He rolled forward and turned into the parking lot behind the restaurant. “There’s a car behind us.”
Sarah looked back and sure enough, there was her car in shining armor – ten seconds too late. She growled. “How convenient you forgot we were on assignment together. Aren’t you worried I’ll retaliate?”
“I’ll take my chances.” Cole grinned, gliding smoothly into a parking spot. “Although you looked like you wanted to throw me into a volcano back there.”
“Actually, I was going to turn you into a rabbit during a werewolf buffet.”
“You know how to do that?”
“I’m still working on the logistics.”
He laughed and put the car into park. They disembarked, but instead of heading toward the building, he opened his trunk and pulled out an oversized t-shirt with the words Marines emblazoned on it. “Would you like this?”
“Oh, yes.” With a grateful nod, Sarah reached for it, but instead he lifted it over her head. The soft jersey fabric covered her entire torso, caressing her thighs and reaching to her knees. He stood back, and suddenly the humor vanished. She wrapped her arms around herself. “What?”
“You look...” He reached out to touch her cheek, stopped. “You look lovely.” His gaze turned downward. “I nearly flipped when I saw you next to those men. And I barely kept control when they suggested sharing you. The thought of something happening to you...” He shook his head, emotion blazing in fierce eyes. “I’m just glad I was there.”
This was dangerous, far more than the joking and the sarcasm and the arguing. But she couldn’t stop herself from admitting the truth. “I’m glad you were there, too. When backup didn’t arrive, you made a difference between success and tragedy. I should’ve said this before, but I truly appreciate it. Thank you.”
His smile was kind, with a million messages she couldn’t decipher. “Anytime, kiddo.”
“Are you guys going to whisper sweet nothings all day or come in?” Mrs. Carmichael shouted. “You’re welcome to do it in front of us. Maybe we can give you pointers.”
Sarah closed and opened her eyes. They were giving the wrong, albeit honest, message. “We’re coming,” she called. “Look, you really don’t have to go in there.”
He shrugged. “That’s okay. I don’t have anything big planned for today.”
If he heard what she wrote… She tried again. “I don’t want to usurp any more of your day. I’m not far from home. I’m sure someone will give me a ride after the meeting.”
He leaned back. “Is there some reason you don’t want me here?”
Um, yes. Obviously. Bingo! “Of course not. I just thought you’d be bored listening to a bunch of people read their unfinished novels.”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
She cringed at the interest in his voice. “It’s no big deal.” She started toward the entrance. If she waited any longer, they’d come out to see what was holding them up. “Just something I do to relieve stress. When I was a kid, there wasn’t a lot of fun–” She stopped. What was it about Cole that made her overshare? “When I was a kid, I was busy with other things.”
“I don’t have a clue about those things, do I?” he murmured, holding the door open for her. “There’s a lot I don’t know about the real Sarah Sloan.”
She turned sharply, but several women approached them, signaling the end of their private time. He followed closely behind, touching her back as they walked through the space. Did he even realize it?
Did he know how much she liked it?
“It’s lucky we brought your submission in case you could make it.” Jessica, a friend since grade school, gave a catlike grin. “I read it, by the way. It’s hot.”
Cole suddenly looked very interested. His eyes sparkled. “Exactly what type of books do you write?”
“Oh, we write everything,” Sarah waved her hand before someone revealed the specific books she wrote. “Harmony Creek is too small to have more than one writer’s group. Some write children’s books, others write nonfiction, some mystery.”
“And what do you write, Sarah?”
“Fiction,” she answered vaguely. “Oh look, there’s a seat.” She dove into one of the red cushioned chairs that had been put into a circle, conveniently one that had people sitting on either side. It was puerile and it was obvious, but at least it provided an escape.
By the challenge in his eyes, it would be termporary .
Cole turned to the other seats. As soon as the women saw him looking, a symphony chimed:
“Hey, Cole, sit near me!”
“There’s an empty seat here, Cole!”
“Come and catch up, Cole!”
In ten seconds, more than a dozen women offered him a seat, and he finally settled for a prime spot nestled among four eligible women, half of whom weren’t even in the writing club. In fact, they had to bring in extra chairs for all the women Cole managed to attract. Not that it annoyed or frustrated her, and it definitely didn’t make her think about turning everyone into bunnies during the werewolf dinner.
“Don’t worry.” Mrs. Carmichael, who was sitting next to her, smiled brightly. “He only has eyes for you.”
Her cheeks flamed. “You have the wrong idea. We’re not together.”
Across the room, Cole had the audacity to wink. She scowled and looked away. All the women could enjoy his company. She didn’t care. Not even the teeniest little bit.
“Don’t be silly, girl.” Mrs. Carmichael, the same woman who called 911 to retrieve a monkey from a tree, chided her. “It’s quite obvious.”
“It is? I mean, no, it’s not, because there’s nothing.” She frowned as the object of their conversation cozied up to the entire female population of Harmony Creek. Why was Betty Summers whispering into his ear? And why was he smiling like a satisfied cat?
She was saved from having to protest further by the aptly named Harmony Lee, descendent of the town’s founders and leader of the writing group. “Hi everyone! We’re so glad you could make it. Looks like we have some guests.” She gave a bright wave to Cole and the thousand or so women who’d positioned themselves next to him. “If you didn’t turn in your submission already, you can just talk about something you’re working on. As a reminder, each person gave a sample of their work, and the rest will critique it. Who wants to go first?”
Sarah slunk lower in her seat as several hands shot up. She relaxed as one woman read the beginning of her mystery, a twisting and turning tale about a big city murder. Next Mrs. Carmichael shared a story that sounded suspiciously like Curious George, and another read from her memoirs. Each time the moderator asked for a volunteer, Sarah found another place to look, which typically brought her back to Cole. And although there were always women whispering to him, somehow she could feel him watching her, considering her. Did he realize she wasn’t a criminal, that she’d never been one?
“Sarah, have you gone yet?”
Sarah started, turned toward the moderator. Said most eloquently, “Ummm…”
“No, she hasn’t,” Cole broke in. He smiled. Widely.
Oh, she was going to get him. But first, she had to get out of this. “I don’t need a turn today. There’s a lot of people here and–”
“I’d love to hear it,” Cole plowed through her excuse like a rhinoceros riding a bulldozer. “Who wants to hear Sarah’s story?”
The crowd applauded. Then the moderator passed her a copy of her work, and everyone was looking at her expectantly. “Here you go. If you weren’t here last meeting, Sarah is writing a romance.”
She didn’t look at Cole as she took the page, which didn’t disappear into thin air as she hoped. At least she knew better than to include one of the hotter scenes with this audience. Instead, she’d chosen a relatively innocuous page – or so she thought – the meet-cute where the heroine and hero meet for the first time. Only it posed its own problems. By complete accident, an utter coincidence really, the hero may be construed to look a little like Cole. A teeny-tiny bit. Really only noticeable if one were to turn their head and squint.
Well, maybe more than a little.
Yup, they were pretty much identical.
With no choice, she began, “He stood 6’3 tall, heavily muscled as if made of pure steel.”
A few people turned to Cole.
“He had blond hair like the sandy shore.”
More people turned to Cole.
“His emerald eyes held uncanny intelligence, his chiseled jaw strength, his stance fierce control. If there was one thing that could be said about this man, he was pure power.”
Pretty much everyone turned toward Cole as Sarah continued her stroll through the bowels of hell. “He possessed the perfect body, powerful and muscular like a lion. Like the king of his world, he guided those around him, safeguarding all who need help. He’s always played his part of hero, ever since his days in the Marines.”
Oh yeah, and he was in the military, too.
And now for the worst part. “Every part of his body was solid. None so much as his–” Sarah hesitated… and everyone leaned in. But she could only whisper it, “Ass.”
There was silence.
Pure, pure silence.
Until, the minister’s grandmother, sitting at the far end of the circle, leaned closer. “I didn’t hear you, dear. What did you say?”
Where was the dirty police work when you needed it? The vandals, thieves and arsonists – hell, she’d even take a murderer.
“Ass,” she repeated.
“I’m sorry, a little louder.”
“Ass,” she said again.
“One more time?”
“Ass!” she shouted.
And there it was. The minister’s grandmother stared, the world stopped and everyone in the known universe looked at her as if she’d turned into a rabbit. Well, except for Cole.
He was looking at her with the intensity of the king of the jungle she’d just described. And the worst part was, she’d written this before he’d ever returned, before she’d started thinking about him daily. Before he’d infiltrated her life.
She folded the paper, then folded it again and once more. “That’s all I’ve got for today.”
“Thank you, dear,” Harmony said in a strained voice. “Are there any constructive comments anyone would like to share?”
The women, who had been so eager to give their opinions of the other entries, all apparently forgot how to speak. Only their expressions shared a thousand opinions as they glanced between her and Cole. Finally, one of the women called out, “Was that supposed to be Cole?”
Jackpot!
“Of course not!” Sarah yelped. “There may be some similarities, but I can assure you they’re all coincidental–”
“He has the same hair,” Jessica noted.
“And the same eyes,” Harmony agreed.
“The body sounded the same,” another chimed in.
“And he was in the military,” said Mrs. Carmichael. “But most of all, he had the same–”
“Ass!” the minister’s grandmother shouted.
“Grandma!” the group cried together.
“What? It’s true,” she said, gesturing to Cole, who had watched the entire proceedings with the same green eyes Sarah had just described. The same hair. The same military background.
And, yes, the same ass.
Sarah fought for control. “It’s just a coincidence,” she said firmly. “I wrote this before Cole even came back into town.”
Two dozen pairs of eyes widened, then narrowed.
“It’s not what you think.” She held up her hands. “I mean I hadn’t seen Cole in a decade.” She was only making it worse. She smiled weakly. “Who’s next?”
Finally, after a minute or million, the moderator picked the next reader. Sarah snuck a look at Cole. He grinned.
Oh yeah, this would follow her forever.
“So that was interesting,” Cole began as soon as he revved up the car, right after they’d said their good-byes to the surprisingly boisterous writing club. Of course, they hadn’t been so energetic until Sarah read her passage, a description that obviously matched him. He wasn’t quite sure how he felt about it.
Actually, it felt great.
She’d said it wasn’t about him, but it was so obvious, even the minister’s grandmother had figured it out, although it was a little disconcerting when she commented on his ass. Why had Sarah made her character so like him, even before she’d seen him again? Did it mean something?
Sarah looked everywhere but at him. “Did you notice Mrs. Carmichael’s story had an astounding resemblance to Curious George?”
Cole tapped the wheel. “There did seem to be some unusual similarities today.”
She closed her eyes, opened them. “How many times do I have to say it? It wasn’t you.”
“It wasn’t?” He said the words lightly, but a somberness eclipsed their levity. The answer – and its ramifications – meant more than he’d admit.
“No,” she returned, and it seemed like she was telling the truth, or at least thought she was. “I didn’t mean it to be anyone. It’s just what popped to my mind when I thought of–” She stopped.
“When you thought of what?”
“A hero.”
Satisfaction. Delight. Shock. A hundred mystifying emotions seized him. He believed her when she said she didn’t mean to model it after him, yet the coincidences were too great to ignore. The hair, the eyes, the body, the height, even the same branch of military. She had replicated his features, even if unconsciously. Did it mean she thought of him as a hero?
“Don’t read too much into it,” she said softy. “I still think you’re a pain in the ass.”
Her lighthearted smile belied the harsh words, and he gave his own grin. “I think the whole town knows what you think of my ass.”
She looked upward. “I’m going to be reliving this for the next decade, aren’t I?”
“The next decade?” He rotated the steering wheel, smoothly turning onto her street. “I was thinking the rest of your life.”
She made a face, but the smile was still there as he pulled into her driveway. Her police cruiser already waited, dropped off earlier by Zoe. He was about to say goodbye when she spoke first, “Do you want to come in?”
A wave of heat roiled him.
She pinkened. “I mean so I can take off my shirt.” She grew even redder. “I mean so you can take your shirt home. I would take it off now but the people of Harmony Creek have seen enough of me today.”
Actually, not all of them. “Whatever is most comfortable for you,” he replied cordially.
They left the car and walked to the door. She put the key in the lock but hesitated. “No comments about the house, okay? It might not be quite what you expect.” Stalling a moment more, she opened the door and gestured him through.
He walked inside, stopped and stared. Had he just stepped two hundred years into the past, straight into a debutante’s boudoir? It certainly felt like it. He’d never seen so much lace in one place, draped as curtains, arranged as tablecloths, styled into decorations. Feminine antique furniture created a functional yet attractive space, highlighted by sparkling crystal and ceramic figurines. It was beautiful, feminine and somehow perfect for the tough policewoman. “Wow.”
Sarah sighed. “I told you not to comment.”
He smiled, moved closer to her. “I didn’t mean it in a bad way. This is very sweet. Not what I would’ve expected, but I’m beginning to doubt all my expectations about you.”
She licked ruby red lips, and that wave of desire returned with a vengeance. “You pretend nothing affects you, but it’s an act. You’re a lot like this house – all hardness on the outside but far deeper on the inside. You have a tenderness, not a weakness, you try to hide.”
“That’s silly.” She turned away. “I’m the rough girl who made the rough side of the neighborhood rough.”
“I’m not sure about that.” He traced his badge, so warm in his pocket. He was questioning all his beliefs about her right now. “I’d like to get to know you, Sarah.”
“Get to know me?” She gave a humorless laugh. “You already know me. You’ve known me for over twenty years.”
“I thought I did, but do I know the real you?”
She stiffened, nostrils flaring, as silence gave the answer he already knew. A moment passed, then a quiet query. “What do you want from me?”
It was a simple question, yet he had no simple answer. What did he want? He wasn’t entirely sure. “I want to find out who you are. I’d like to spend time with you, explore whatever’s between us.”
Her eyes widened, reflecting the same shock pounding his heart. He hadn’t just admitted the truth to her, but also to himself. Did he wanted to explore a relationship with her? A real one?
Yes.
She stared for a second and an eternity, then curtly shook her head. “We can’t do this, Cole. I can’t do this. It’s far too late for us to consider… anything.”
“Sarah–”
“Please just take your shirt.” She lifted the top over her head.
Revealing so very little clothing.
So very much skin.
She must’ve seen his desire, realized her mistake, because she flushed once more. She breathed deeply, her chest rising with every breath. Then he couldn’t simply help it.
He stepped closer.
She looked at him warily yet didn’t retreat. No, that had never been her style. “What are you doing?”
He didn’t answer, didn’t even know. He moved by instinct alone. He took another step.
“Cole?” Her breathing quickened. “What are you doing?”
If she had demanded he leave, he would’ve listened. If she’d told him to stay away from her, he would have obeyed. Instead, she leaned closer to him.
It was all the invitation he needed.
With a final step, he closed the distance between them. He captured those beautiful rosy lips, growling in satisfaction as she yielded to him. She was strength and softness in one glorious masterpiece, heated and pink and delicious. He caressed her lips, encircling her waist and tracing her womanly curves. Pure perfection.
She grew braver, bolder. She pushed into the kiss, exploring him as he explored her. She moaned as she lifted onto her toes, which still only brought her to his chin. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her flush against him. She was gorgeous, but so much more than her beauty. She was unlike any other woman he had ever met, could ever imagine.
They kissed and explored, learning more each second, but soon he wanted more, needed more. Physically, without a doubt, and yet through his sensual haze, deeper desires lurked, far more significant. He didn’t just want pleasure, he wanted her .
“We have to stop.”
And suddenly she was there no longer, a prize taken away. Like the lion she’d described, he longed to snatch her back, to assert his dominance, showcase his power. Somehow he managed to stop himself, to stay back as she hauled in breaths as if a Herculean effort. She couldn’t hide the effect he had on her. He wouldn’t allow it.
“We shouldn’t have done that.” Her words emerged a breathless whisper. “This can’t lead anywhere.”
Wrong. His mind rebelled with utter certainty. Yet he didn’t respond immediately, weighing a hundred insufficient responses. How to make her understand this was more than it appeared? “Why not?”
“For more reasons than I can count.” Though still flushed, her voice was stronger, louder, as she regained control. “Most importantly, we’ve already done this. Far more than this, actually. You left, remember?” Pain flashed in her eyes. “You didn’t even say good-bye.”
He did remember. He’d been young and stupid and had his whole crime-fighting life planned out. Hooking up with a girl who broke laws for a living just didn’t fit with his seemingly noble path. Yet most of all, the emotions she unlocked that night shook him to the core. If he hadn’t left, he feared what he might give up for her.
In truth, he’d given up far more by leaving.
She sucked in a deep breath, ran a hand through tousled hair. “This is impossible.”
“Is it?” He edged nearer once more, like a magnet drawn to its opposite force. “Are you afraid of me?”
She shook her head, yet the unease in her eyes contradicted any denial. She was afraid. Not physically, he was sure – he would never hurt a woman and she knew it. No, she was afraid of what was happening between them.
“Please don’t be.” He somehow stopped himself from reaching for her. “I’d never hurt you.”
Only he already had.
She wrapped her arms around herself. “You should go. Forget about this, about us. Nothing is going to happen.”
After a heartbeat’s hesitation, he nodded and backed away. Even if logic contradicted her claim, he wouldn’t scare her. He needed to show her, to prove this was not like before. That he was not like before. Without saying a word, he turned and walked out. Yet all the while, one truth blazed:
This time, he wasn’t letting her go.