Chapter 15
CHAPTER 15
S arah Sloan’s Review
Cole Carter’s Shocking Declaration: Unfathomable Stars
Cole said I belonged to him. Does he actually believe it? Or were they just empty words, given in the heat of the moment? The former seems impossible, the latter likely, and yet he gazed at me like an apex predator.
Did Cole Cart just claim me?
He thought of her as his.
Preposterous. Unbelievable. Unreal.
And yet, a fact.
Sarah wandered through the fair, watching and yet not really seeing. The muscular man next to her usurped her thoughts, senses and moments, seizing all attention. With his choice of a princess dress (was that really how he saw her?) he’d astonished her once and then again. She’d never seen such controlled power as when he’d defended her to that drunken thug, like a knight protecting his queen. Of course, that paled compared to the most shocking revelation of all:
He’d claimed she was his.
He hadn’t been kidding when he said the words so somberly, so darkly, to the man who’d attacked her. And then he’d captured her, staking his claim. What did he think was between them?
What was between them?
And did she feel the same way? As they strolled through fantastical grounds, nearly every female turned to the would-be king in their midst. Cole commanded a presence like no other, a power that drew attention wherever he went. It was obvious in Harmony Creek, and even more so here, where most people were strangers. And if she were honest, she wanted to tell the women to back away because he belonged to her, too.
Not good. She couldn’t, wouldn’t and shouldn’t be thinking such impossibilities. Cole wasn’t hers, and she certainly wasn’t his, no matter what he thought. She would get through the day, return home and remind herself of all the reasons they couldn’t be together. Now she needed to find some (non-suggestive) entertainment to keep them occupied.
She opened the program and right away dismissed Wenches in Mud, Suggestive Sword Play and Bawdy Ballads. They passed a stage with curly-haired teenage girls dancing to a lively Irish tune, Miss Coleen’s Celtic dancers. Perfect. “How about we stop here?” She pointed to the rows of wrapped hay doubling as seats. “They’re pretty good.”
Cole nodded and sat down next to her. The uneven seating made her fall closer to him (or at least gave her an excuse when she may have purposefully fallen into him). The girls’ skill and lively music made for an enjoyable show, and soon she was swaying along to the Celtic tune. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long, and minutes later, the beaming girls took their final bow to a standing ovation.
“That was fun.” Sarah stood up, wiping a few strands of excess hay from her dress. “Let’s find something else.”
Cole studied the program. “Another show is starting in a few minutes. Why don’t we wait here?”
Sarah glanced at the brochure. The next act was the Angel Musicians, a quartet consisting of a harpist, cellist, pianist and singer. Once again, a perfect match for their innocent afternoon. “Sounds great.” Only as the new performers started arriving and ascending the stage, something didn’t seem quite right. “Hey, Cole?”
“Yeah?”
“Have you ever seen a cellist in a pirate costume?”
“No.” He tilted his head. “I’ve never seen a harpist with a parrot on his shoulder, either.”
“Good afternoon, lords and ladies,” a beefy pirate with an eyepatch, striped shirt and carpet-thick black beard boomed. “I know you guys were expecting the Angel Musicians, but there was a little issue with the harpist during the last Mud Show. And, no, you don’t want to know.”
The crowd tittered.
“But don’t worry! We’re the Plundering Pirates, and we have a great show for you. Who’s ready to play Truth or Dare, Renaissance style?”
The crowd clapped its approval, and the pirate kept talking, but Sarah was no longer listening. Truth or Dare + Her childhood nemesis/present colleague/future resident of Alcatraz = disaster. She shot up and grabbed Cole’s muscular bicep. “Why don’t we find something else? I hear there’s a fight to the death on the Swordplay Stage. It sounds very educational.”
Before Cole could ask how a fight to the death was educational, the pirate shouted out, “Thank you so much for volunteering, ma’am! Ladies and gentlemen, I give you our contestants.”
No, no and no. This was not happening. No how, no way, was she going to play Truth or Dare with Cole. “He’s pointing at us,” she hissed. “Do something.”
“Of course,” Cole rumbled lowly. “We’d be honored,” he shouted louder to the pirate. Then he started walking toward the stage. Unfortunately, somehow her grip on him had changed to him holding her.
Yeah, she was going with him.
“What are you doing?” Sarah tried to dig in her heels, but the grassy dirt stymied her efforts. “You’re going the wrong way.”
“They picked us to be in the show,” Cole replied matter-of-factly. “What’s the matter? Are you scared to play Truth or Dare with me?”
Hell, yeah. “Hell, no.”
“Then let’s go. I want to hear all your truths.”
She didn’t have time to protest more as he led her to the stage where half a dozen authentic pirates waited, complete with gleaming swords and tattered clothing. She’d rather face a slew of pirates than Cole Carter in a single game of Truth or Dare. Only she didn’t have a choice.
“Welcome to our two victims… I mean contestants,” the pirate bellowed, clapping Cole on the back. Although the pirates were large, none were as massive as Cole. “Please introduce yourselves. You guys are a couple, right?”
“Absolutely not!” Sarah yelped.
The pirate looked taken aback for a second, then winked at Cole. “You know what it means when they protest too loudly, don’t you?”
Cole grinned.
Sarah growled.
And the audience smiled wider.
The pirate continued on happily, “Are you hoping to discover something juicy?”
Cole watched her. “Absolutely.”
Bolts of unease streaked lightning down her spine. She was being ridiculous – it was just a game. She didn’t have to say or do anything that made her uncomfortable. Yet Cole always managed to wring far more than she planned to give, and if she accidently slipped…
“Now for the rules.” The pirate juggled his sword from hand to hand. “It’s essentially the game of Truth or Dare, with a Renaissance twist. You take turns choosing truth or dare, and we’ll give an action or question for both contestants to answer. Understand?”
They nodded.
“Ladies first. Sarah, truth or dare?”
That was an easy choice. “I’ll take dare.”
“Okay, we’ll start simple. Sarah, you have to give a proper Renaissance curtsey and Cole, you have to give a bow.”
Piece of cake. Maybe this game wasn’t as difficult as she’d feared. Sarah relaxed as she gave a rather decent curtsey. Cole performed an elegant bow, and at least a dozen women in the audience sighed. Which was annoying. And annoying that it was annoying. And annoying that she recognized that it was annoying that it was annoying.
The crowd applauded. “Great job,” the pirate said. “Now it’s your turn, Cole. Truth or dare?”
Cole looked straight at her. “Truth.”
Her breath hitched. Remain calm. As long as she answered carefully, she would not give anything away.
The host nodded. “Okay, truth. We’re pirates, so we do a lot of plundering and pillaging. Have you ever broken the law?” Before they could answer, he held up his hand. “We’re not talking about a traffic ticket. It doesn’t have to be murder, but it has to be something that could actually get you in trouble. Since we don’t want anyone going to jail, however, we don’t want any details. We’ll even give you the option of saying, no comment.”
Well, that would be an easy one for Cole since he hadn’t ever gone a single mile over the speed limit. Piece of–
“No comment.”
“What?” Sarah opened her mouth wide enough for a pirate ship to enter. She forcefully closed it. “That’s impossible.”
He turned to her and said evenly, “No comment.”
“But when? And how? And what?”
“Now let’s not get into details,” the announcer broke in. “He didn’t admit to anything, and that’s just how we like it. Nobody is getting hauled off to jail.”
“At least not me.” Cole folded his arms across his chest. “Is there anything you’d like to say, Sarah?”
She narrowed her eyes. Oh, yeah. His Miranda Rights. “So you’re not going to tell me what you did?”
“We’re going to leave it at no comment,” the announcer exclaimed cheerfully. “So, Sarah, what about you?”
The answer came automatically, “I haven’t committed any crimes.”
To most listeners, it was the obvious reply, the plain and boring response. Yet Cole stared at her, his features a juxtaposition of disbelief, suspicion, and, most of all, challenge. Obviously, he believed she was lying, but did he wonder why? She could’ve said no comment. Why hadn’t she?
Cole spoke lowly so only she could hear. “You and I are going to have a long conversation later.”
Her breath froze, but she kept strong. “Why? So you can give a confession?”
“No, so you can explain.”
“No whispering,” the announcer said jovially. “Anything you can say to each other, you can say before our audience. We promise we won’t say a thing.” He winked, and the crowd laughed.
“That’s okay.” Sarah lifted her lips into a humorless smile. “I have nothing to share.” At least nothing she would admit. Now the game needed to progress – and end – as soon as possible. “My turn, right? I’ll take dare.”
“Dare it is. In Renaissance times, a person often made a grand gesture to impress the object of his affection. So here’s your dare. You need to pretend – or not–” He waggled his eyebrows. “That you like this person. Come up with a way to court him or her. Sarah, you’re first. Woo him.”
Woo him? She blinked at Cole. “Would you consider it romantic if I arrested you?”
“It depends,” he drawled. “Are handcuffs involved?”
Oh, he didn’t just go there.
Not in front of an audience who would share every last tidbit with their friends and then their friends and then their friends until it hopped its way back to Harmony Creek, complete with an embellished story involving an actual demonstration of said handcuffs plus whipped cream and a cherry on top. Since she was screwed anyways, she might as well tell him what she really thought. She smiled sweetly. “There’s nothing that would give me more pleasure than seeing you in handcuffs.”
The crowd roared in laughter, but the pirate donned a serious expression. “Um, guys, that isn’t quite what I had in mind.” Then he grinned, and the crowd cheered louder. “Although I love it. But we were thinking something a little more traditional.”
“Are you sure I can’t arrest him?” Now even she smiled. “What if I say please?”
He shook his head. “Nope.”
Her smile faltered. What could be worse than wooing Cole in public? Maybe a trip to the dentist for a dozen root canals? Without anesthesia. Using industrial pliers.
Nope, this was worse.
“Come on, Sarah. I’m waiting to be wooed.” Cole grinned wolfishly. “What’s the hold up?” She gave him a warning look, which he ignored. “Maybe you need some help? I really like foot massages.”
“I’d rather give a foot massage to a stampeding elephant.”
“Is that a no?”
“This challenge isn’t turning out quite like I expected.” The pirate stroked his beard. “I have an idea. How about you sing? Many Renaissance women were fantastic singers.”
Sing?
She could shoot a moving target.
Take down a large man.
Go head-to-head against a master criminal.
But sing? Nope. Not a single note. At least not one in tune.
Perhaps Renaissance women were great singers, but she sounded like a frog, or a chainsaw, or maybe a duet between a frog and a chainsaw.
Cole cringed. Yeah, he knew how awful she sang. He’d known it since the seventh grade talent show when she’d been forced into the chorus for “Singin’ in the Rain.” The kids had later dubbed it “Squealin’ in Pain.”
“I really can’t–”
“Sure, you can!” The announcer patted her back. “Just think of a song that signifies your feelings for Cole.”
Sarah opened her mouth to argue, then stopped. A song that described how she felt about Cole? She could do that. Mentally rehearsing the lyrics, she strode to the suspicious looking deputy. He knew she wasn’t about to sing a love ballad.
She started in a pitch that could’ve broken glass, “Well I saw the thing coming out of the sky. It had one big horn and one big eye.” As she sang, Cole kept his face serious… that was, until she came to the pivotal line. “It was a one-eyed one-horned flying purple people eater.”
The crowd started to sing along, and with their help, the rendition didn’t sound half-bad. Sarah sang her heart out to the tune about the classic rocking monster and received a standing ovation.
The announcer returned. “Wow, that was… special. Yes, very, very special. So tell me, Cole, what did you think? Do you feel wooed?”
“To be honest, the wooing was disappointing. Apparently, she sees me as a one-eyed, one-horned flying purple people eater.” Yet Cole’s eyes twinkled, as for once, he seemed lighthearted, amused, simply happy .
Sarah nodded enthusiastically, and the crowd laughed harder. The pirate managed a straight face. “I can see how that could be taken the wrong way. Now it’s your turn, Cole. Would you like to return with a song of your own?”
“No,” Cole replied.
Sarah clasped her hands to hide her surprise. Unlike her, he sang very well. Certainly, he could come up with a fitting response to her song.
“I’ve composed a poem for her instead.”
Ah, here it comes. She leaned into him. “Let me guess: Roses are red. Violets are blue. I’d love to incarcerate you.”
“Not quite,” he rumbled, and his expression turned serious. “I hear your voice, and it lightens my heart. I watch you dance, and my world is moved. I watch you smile, and sunshine blooms anew. I see your soul, and it matches mine.”
Utter silence ruled, as pure as the stroke of midnight. He didn’t betray his emotions, yet they burned deep, meaningful. Endless questions swirled, without answers or reasons or truth. When had he crafted such eloquent words?
Suddenly, applause thundered, hoots and hollers from the now standing audience. The beaming announcer congratulated Cole on an outstanding performance. It had indeed been outstanding.
But had it been a performance?
Cole emanated an intensity that – if she hadn’t known better – said he meant every word.
“How was that, Sarah?” The announcer winked. “Do you feel wooed?”
She didn’t answer, because although it had to be a complete fabrication, an attempt to throw her off balance as punishment for her silly song, she did indeed feel wooed. Did he sense what was happening between them? Did everyone feel it?
Thankfully the announcer didn’t press for an answer. “Cole, it’s your turn. Truth or dare?”
Cole didn’t hesitate. “Truth.”
“You say you’re not a couple, but the chemistry is sizzling. Even the audience can feel it. Have you ever kissed her?”
The crowd roared in what was obviously a mass delusion. The only chemistry she had with Cole involved gasoline and fire. As to the question, however, the answer was yes. And then yes some more. And more yesses for good measure. Of course, she would’ve offered a strict, “No comment,” but Cole had no problem causally sharing, “More than once.”
The announcer grinned. Widely. “I’m thinking of a good dare later.”
Oh. No. They might not be in Harmony Creek, but they were close enough. If they actually kissed on stage… She shot forward. “Wait! Don’t I get a chance to answer?”
The host looked between the two of them. “I know you both get a say, but in this case, the answer should be pretty much the same. He said you’ve kissed. Do you disagree?”
All the sounds disappeared from the world. The crowd turned silent. Even the canon demonstration, which had been booming for the last half hour, stopped.
“Are you thinking about it?” The host chuckled. “I’m not a woman, but I’d say most ladies wouldn’t forget smooching this man.” The ladies in the audience responded with whistles, hoots and applause. “Have you kissed him?”
“Technically?” She was stalling, but not very well. Like really, really, really bad.
Cole folded his arms across his chest. “Is there a difference between technically kissing and not kissing?”
She was digging a chasm as wide as the Grand Canyon. “Well, maybe. Like it depends on who’s doing the kissing.”
His expression dared her to deny it. “Technically, we were both doing the kissing.”
Yeah, exactly.
There was only one thing left to do. “Can we move to the next question?”
She ignored the knowing smirks, the muffled laughter, the bemused looks. Somehow the pirate stayed serious as he answered, “Of course. Time is almost up, folks, so this is the last round of the show.”
Sarah sagged in relief. Cole seemed disappointed. “Truth or dare?” the pirate asked.
She would take no more chances. “Definitely dare.” As much as she didn’t relish another performance, accidentally revealing something too personal posed far greater danger. She’d already survived an impromptu singing performance, an all-too-personal poem and a discussion of their kissing. What could be worse?
“Since we’ve discussed kissing, why don’t we take it to the next level? I dare each of you to find someone and give them a good, old-fashioned Renaissance kiss.”
Well, damn.