Chapter 16
Cole
YOUR FAVORITE COFFEE GIRL
I’ve done a lot of questionable things in my life.
I once convinced Blake he was adopted and actually our cousin.
He’s still not over it. I once dropped acid at a music festival and thought I could see fairies.
I once casually dated two women at the same time without recognizing their resemblance to each other until it was way too late.
They were sisters. That was the day my threesome fantasy came to an end.
Not one of those things prepared me for last night.
I’m standing in my kitchen, staring out the window at the expansive, frost-covered vineyard view, barely registering anything at all. The conversation with Ariana has been replaying on a loop that started somewhere around leaving Novel and hasn’t stopped since.
Ariana asked me to give her lessons.
Those kind of lessons.
And I agreed.
I couldn’t even give her a proper answer. Just—okay. I thought if I said much more, she’d come to her senses. In fact, I’m surprised I didn’t wake up to a text from her taking back the whole thing.
Though I’m really hoping she’s still up for it. Because I’m in. I’m more than in. From the second I realized what she was asking me for, there was no hesitation on my end.
There was no internal debate, no warring factions, no reasonable part of my brain stepping in to point out all the very obvious reasons this is a terrible idea.
I would never admit it to her, but the lessons are the perfect solution to my problem. They’re the safest way to finally get her out of my system without hurting her or committing to something I’m not equipped for. It makes me feel like a fucking coward, but it’s the truth.
Guilt gathers in my stomach, tightening into a massive knot. I can’t just make this about myself and my needs. This is about her, and while I suspect she’s not a virgin, there’s likely a reason she’s remained inexperienced. I have to treat the situation delicately. Treat her the way she deserves.
We’re going to have to have a real and honest conversation about our arrangement.
Putting my thoughts on pause before they consume me, I get dressed and go into work.
The commute is short. If it weren’t freezing out, I’d cut across and walk, but I’d like to keep my balls from turning any more blue than they already are.
Blake’s truck is parked in my spot when I pull up to the main facility. Little shit.
I park beside him and head inside, already hearing him before I see him.
He’s in the barrel room, talking to one of the cellar hands with more energy than I possess.
I’ve always envied that about him. Blake has an endless amount of energy.
I suspect it’s because he has ADHD and has never been formally diagnosed, but it seems to work for him.
He spots me in the doorway and gives me a nod. “You look like you’ve been up since before I have,” he says. “And I’ve been up since four.”
He’s annoyingly perceptive too. Between the pipe bursting and the situation with Ariana, I’m running on very little sleep.
“Maybe you should go grab some caffeine from your favorite coffee girl.” He wiggles his brows at me, trying to get a rise.
I won’t satisfy him with a reaction. He’s made enough comments about Ariana that I suspect he knows I’m interested in her.
And even though we agreed to a sham relationship, I won’t be the one to start spreading the news about it.
She’ll be the one to handle who finds out and when. This is on her terms.
It’s her family that’s going to be the biggest hurdle. I highly doubt Ethan, Gavin, and Shane are going to be happy seeing me with their little sister. Another thing to add to the list of things we’ll need to discuss.
I don’t even want to think about how Jack Ledger is going to take it.
He seems like an easygoing guy, but when it comes to his daughters, he’s incredibly protective.
I’m already going to raise his hackles because I’m a Benton—tack on the ten-year age gap and my less-than-stellar reputation, and I’m predicting it’ll be a disaster.
And for some reason, I want him to like me. Even knowing how temporary and fake this is, some deep-seated part of me still wants his approval.
“I’m good,” I tell Blake, already moving past him toward the facility floor. I do a walkthrough every morning before I get trapped behind my desk.
Blake falls into step behind me.
“So Sierra had an interesting story for me,” he says in that particular tone he uses when the story is interesting specifically because it involves me.
I slow without stopping. Sierra is Blake’s best friend and one of the employees I hired for the downtown tasting room. She’s a good worker as far as I can tell, but something tells me I’m about to regret hiring her as a favor to Blake.
“Oh,” I say, attempting to sound disinterested and coming closer to strained instead. I’ve felt vaguely paranoid since last night, like whatever Ariana and I agreed to is somehow already visible from the outside—which is ridiculous, because I’m certain we were alone.
“Yeah.” Blake steps into my path, elbow propped against the wall, one hand working at that stupid little goatee of his. “Apparently you got in some guy’s face for trying to ask Ariana Ledger out.” He tilts his head, smirking. “Want to explain that one?”
Jesus. Small-town gossip really is just a very bad game of telephone.
“That’s not what happened. The guy’s a creep. I intervened. I barely said two words to him.”
Blake’s expression is the picture of skepticism. “Sierra said he was hot.”
“So now Sierra wants to get with Professor Fuckface too?”
He bursts out laughing, doubling forward slightly before recovering. “You are such a bad fucking liar, bro.” He holds his hands up. “But fine. Keep your secrets.”
“Just leave it alone, Blake,” I say, walking away.
Have any plans Saturday night?
ARIANA
I don’t think so, why?
You do now. Come to my place. We have a lot to talk about.
ARIANA
Oh no. You’re one of those boyfriends…
My eyes snag on the word boyfriend. It’s the first time she’s called me that, and I’m not having the existential crisis I thought I would. I’m nowhere near crisis mode.
What does that mean?
ARIANA
For a fake boyfriend you’re pretty bossy.
I snort. Rereading the text, I can see how it would come across that way. Very bossy, almost clinical.
Give me a sec.
I’ve been to Novel enough to know Ariana loves historical romances. They’re everywhere—stacked on shelves, piled on displays—and in between customers, she’s always got a paperback tucked into her apron. Always a romance. Usually with a Regency-era couple on the cover.
I think I can come up with something she’ll appreciate.
Dearest Ariana, would you do me the great honor of joining me at my humble estate on Saturday evening? Your presence would bring me immeasurable joy.
ARIANA
Much better.
I’ll be there.
“What are you smiling about?” Nora says out of nowhere, scaring the living shit out of me.
I slam my phone down. “Where the hell did you come from?”
A small crease forms between her brows, and her smile stretches wider. “Lunch with Mom. I was just going to pop in and say hi. Didn’t realize I needed to give you a warning first.”
“You don’t need to give me a warning, you just need to knock,” I mutter.
Nora drops into the chair across from me, unfazed, already searching my face.
Her stare is so penetrating I think it might break me if she doesn’t blink soon.
She’s always had this quality—the ability to look at you like she can see straight through whatever version of yourself you’re presenting and directly into the part you’re trying to keep private.
It’s what makes her a terrifying lawyer and an even more terrifying sister.
“That was a pretty big, cheesy smile you just had,” she says. “What was that about?”
“I’m a happy guy. Can I not be happy for no particular reason?”
“I guess you can.” She shrugs, not convinced in the slightest. “But we both know you’re full of shit. So tell me all about her.”
“There is no her. Just having a good day.”
“Your ears are red.”
I reach up before I can stop myself and immediately drop my hand back to the desk. Caught. “It’s hot in here.”
Nora throws her head back and laughs—the full, unrestrained version she only uses when she’s really got something on you. “Oh my God. You’re blushing.”
“I’m not blushing.”
“Cole Matthew Benton, you are absolutely blushing.” She leans forward, eyes wide and lit up in a way that tells me this is going to be a whole thing. “Who is she?”
“Why are you so interested in my personal life? Did Mom send you to spy on me?”
“No, but she did ask me if I had any single friends to set you up with.”
God, she’s already started. I should’ve seen that coming.
“I told her I would handle it myself.”
Nora’s eyes sharpen. “So there is a girl.”
I give her my most withering look. She absorbs it without flinching, because she has never once in her life been withered by me. The eternal curse of little sisters—total immunity to everything you have in your arsenal.
“Drop it, Nora.”
“Cole has a crush,” she sings in the exact same voice she used when we were kids.
“How old are you?”
“Never too old to tease you. That’s how much.” She grins, wholly unrepentant. “Is she nice? Pretty? Does she know what she’s getting herself into?”
“Again, there is no she.”
“Your ears are still red.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” She glances at her watch and stands, smoothing her jacket.
“I have court in an hour. Lucky for you.” She points at me on her way to the door.
“But I will be harassing the shit out of you until I get to meet this woman who made you blush like a schoolboy. That’s a promise. ”
“I would expect nothing less.”
“Love you,” she calls over her shoulder.
“Love you too. Get out.”
The door clicks shut behind her.
I sit in the quiet for a moment, the office suddenly feeling very still after Nora’s hurricane of harassment. I pick my phone back up.
Ariana’s last text is still on the screen. I’ll be there.
A rush of anticipation hits my chest as I set the phone back down, face up this time.
I can’t remember the last time I was this excited to spend time with someone. I’m not used to this—actually looking forward to the conversation rather than just what comes after it.
Maybe never.