Chapter 33
Ariana
FIRST DATE DATE
Iwake up very, very warm.
Specifically, I wake up warm and tucked against something solid and breathing, which takes me a split second to place before the events of last night arrange themselves into order in my still-waking brain.
Cole came back early.
Cole is here.
Cole’s arm is around me.
I stay very still, the way you do when you’re not sure if moving will shatter the moment. The room is the particular gray of early morning and outside my window the street is quiet, Red Mountain hours from coming alive.
His breathing is slow and even behind me. The puff of his sleeping exhales fanning my neck.
I take the opportunity to just exist here for a moment.
In the warmth of him. In the specific comfort of being held by Cole.
The man was home all of five minutes before driving across town to help me.
He was probably tired, wanting to sleep in his own bed for the first time in days, and instead he’s here.
I’ve been trying not to attach too much meaning to that but I’ve been largely unsuccessful.
None of this is fake boyfriend behavior.
Duchess, who is curled at the foot of the bed, opens one eye, looks at me, and closes it again. Apparently she’s decided to quietly accept him and the decision seems to annoy her.
“Morning, doll,” Cole says, voice rough and gravelly with sleep as he nuzzles the back of my neck.
I wiggle against him. “I thought you were asleep.”
“I was.” He shifts, pulling me slightly closer, his arm tightening around my waist. “What time is it?”
I check my phone on the nightstand. “Almost seven.”
Lina now opens the shop on Saturday mornings. I thought the biggest perk would be getting to sleep in, but this beats it by a landslide.
Cole makes a sound that is not quite a groan and not quite an acknowledgment and presses his lips to the back of my neck, which feels both sweet and erotic. My body starts to roll against his as if the earth-shattering orgasm last night wasn’t enough.
“Hi,” he says against my skin.
“Hi.” I feel the smile before I can stop it. “You stayed the night.”
“I did.”
“And you cut your trip short.”
“Mm-hmm.” He kisses my shoulder. “We got everything taken care of and decided it was early enough to hit the road instead of spending another night away.”
“Well, no complaints here.”
His hands roam over my body, lightly trailing his fingers across the heat between my legs before taking a generous handful of my breasts, toying with my nipple. “I would do just about anything to wake up like this—with you in my arms.”
I try to swallow the sudden lump in my throat, while also ignoring the way my heart leaped at his admission. Cole has a habit of saying little things like that. My heart wants to believe them but my head tries to convince me otherwise.
And in spite of trying to remain logical, I’m falling for this man, and it’s confusing and terrifying and wonderful. I don’t even know what we’re doing anymore but it feels far from anything we agreed to.
Shifting, I stare at the ceiling and the weight of what this is becoming settles heavy on my chest. Would Cole be able to fully commit to me without getting bored and tossing me aside?
Right now it’s probably easy knowing there’s a clear end to all of this.
But if there weren’t, I’m not sure he could do it, or would even be interested for that matter.
Why would he give up the bachelor lifestyle he’s used to just to be with me?
“Hey.” Cole props himself up on his elbow, his gaze searching mine. “You still with me? You got quiet for a second.”
“Yeah.” I put on a smile, taking a deep breath. “Just still waking up.”
A wicked grin lifts on his lips. “Oh, baby. Why didn’t you say something?” He starts peppering kisses down my body. “I’ll wake you up.”
“Cole.” I giggle, wiggling the lower he gets. “Last night was more than enough. I’m okay, really.”
He looks up at me from between my thighs, his hands positioned to pry them further apart. “Baby, I’m an eater. And I’m going to eat this pussy as much as you’ll let me.”
He flattens his tongue over the underwear I slipped on last night, and there’s something so toe-curling filthy about being licked through the thin cotton of my panties, I nearly come from that alone.
“Relax. Let me eat my breakfast.”
And because he’s impossible to resist, I nod and let him continue.
He wastes no time tearing off my underwear and devouring me like a starved man.
I can’t believe I’ve lived twenty-three years of life before experiencing this.
Though something tells me it wouldn’t have been like this with anyone but Cole.
He’s nothing if not dedicated to the task, meticulous with reading me, reading my body.
And the results are more than satisfactory.
I come quickly, the euphoric rush coursing through me like blood racing in my veins, tiny tremors of aftershocks working their way over me in the minutes that follow.
It’s delicious and addicting and I don’t know how I’ll function without being the sole focus of Cole’s pursuit to bring me pleasure.
Once my orgasm subsides, he hovers over me, his lips swollen and still shiny with my release.
“My favorite meal,” he muses before planting a kiss on me. “Taste yourself. Lick your cum.”
Without hesitation, I flick my tongue out and run it along the seam of his lips, gathering the remainder of my arousal. It feels so taboo to taste myself like this—the tanginess of my release threaded with the familiar flavor of him.
He moans, the vibration of it traveling down my sternum. We kiss slow and lazy, nowhere to go, no place to be. And it might just be the most perfect morning I’ve ever had.
Eventually we make our way out of the bedroom. Cole is dressed and lounging on the couch, trying to get Duchess to play with him, while I make us each a drink.
I’ve upgraded the espresso machines in the shop several times over the years, and each time I rotate one of the old ones into my apartment and use it as my everyday coffee maker.
I make a London Fog for Cole and a simple cortado for myself. As I hand Cole his drink he pulls me down to sit with my legs draped over his lap.
We sit quietly, both of us enjoying our drinks in comfortable silence.
His hand rubs up and down my legs, soothingly.
The air has a quality to it I’ve only recently learned to recognize.
Intimate but not in the way I used to think of intimacy.
Deeper than that. Like simply being is so much better together than it could ever be apart.
“Did you guys end up finding any land?” I ask, to distract myself from thinking too much.
“We found a few different options. Blake is going to have some testing done on the different parcels. There’s a certain flavor we’re trying to achieve so acidity levels are really important.”
Cole rarely talks about his job, but every time he does, I can feel the passion behind it.
It’s like a part of himself he keeps guarded, and I’m not sure why, because it’s incredible to witness.
I never thought he lacked intelligence, but I didn’t realize just how smart he actually is.
It’s like he leans into a certain persona so people won’t look too closely, won’t realize there’s more beneath the surface.
It’s the same mistake I made. I let him fool me into thinking he was a shallow playboy, not some borderline genius—an incredibly savvy businessman who genuinely cares about the legacy he’s upholding.
It’s inspiring, even more so because I grew up in this world.
I know the stress Ethan carries as CEO, the pressure Gavin puts on himself as head winemaker, and Cole does both jobs combined.
You’d never know the turmoil he masks with charm and an easy smile.
He catches me staring at him, a boyish smile stretching across his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
I lean forward and give him a quick peck. “No reason. You’re just cute.”
He looks uncharacteristically shy for a moment. “Cute? I think you mean manly and rugged.”
“No.” I giggle. “Definitely cute.”
“Mm.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I brought you something.”
My brows shoot up. “You brought me something?”
He rises, going toward the front door where there’s a paper gift bag I didn’t notice. He brings it over to me and I sit up a little to open it as he rejoins me on the couch.
“A book from a little shop we walked past. The woman behind the counter recommended it. Said it was the best thing she’d read all year.”
I reach into the bag and pull it out.
It’s a newer why choose Regency romance that has been sitting at the top of my Tbr for months but I just haven’t found the time to buy a copy yet.
I blink at him, stunned to say the least. He went to a bookstore and spoke to a worker long enough to get a book recommendation for me. He thought of me.
His gaze stays on me, anxiously waiting for me to say something. “It might be terrible. I don’t know anything about the kind of books you like.”
I thought I could hold it in but I can’t. Hot tears blur my vision, one of them sliding down my face.
“Shit.” He panics. “You already hate it, don’t you? Just forget about it. I’ll take it back or throw it away or—”
I fling myself at him, crossing my arms around his neck and pulling him close. “Thank you,” my muffled, garbled voice says against his shoulder.
He hesitates briefly before returning the hug. “So I take it those are happy tears?”
“Very happy.”
It’s the most meaningful gift I’ve ever received.
No one ever buys me books—my family assumes my taste is too particular, so they default to gift cards.
And that’s fine, I appreciate them. But there’s something so special about someone choosing a book for you, about being seen in that way.
It’s a kind of thoughtfulness a gift card just can’t replicate.
We stay tangled together on the couch for a while longer, neither of us in any particular hurry to move.