5. Cora
five
cora
R unning off isn’t typically like me, but here we are, me sprinting down the hallway to my bedroom like a coward. As if closing this door is going to separate me from everything I felt out in the kitchen, everything I wouldn’t dare to speak aloud.
Back against the door, I slowly slide to the floor as my legs give out, knees wobbling. Red-hot embarrassment washes over me for my response to Nash’s innocent question. All the man wanted to know was what brought me to town, and I just froze, not ready to trust someone I just met with that part of my life.
I dig my palms into my eyes and groan. Fuck Ryan for making me feel like I can’t trust anyone, for ripping away my feeling of safety. That weasel deserves to step on Legos for eternity for what he pulled over the past few years. He always believed his mother’s money would grant him whatever he wanted and shield him from any consequences. Unfortunately for me, I woke up and realized how controlling and abusive he was far too late.
Maybe I really should reach out to a therapist to talk about this, like Jack suggested. Going to my mom isn’t an option. Releasing a sigh, my head thuds against the door as I close my eyes. Mom finally found happiness again after Dad’s passing a couple of years ago, and I’ll be damned if I take that from her. Her new boyfriend, Luke, is a sweet widower who loves her and treats her like gold. They’re currently on a six month cruise around Europe, having the time of their lives. There’s no reason to worry her with my shit right now. I got myself into this mess, and by God I’ll get myself out of it.
Even with my nap, I’m still exhausted. The adrenaline from finding a sexy, shirtless man in my bed has worn off and now my eyelids droop. Pushing off the floor, I climb back into bed and grab my phone, where I find texts from Jack.
Jack
I’m so fucking sorry for not warning you that my friends sometimes crash at my place.
Are you okay?
I’m totally fine. It was a bit of a shock to find a stranger laying next to me, but it’s all good now
Jack
Do you need me to come home?
Of course not! Everything is completely fine. I can handle myself
Jack
Oh I heard just how well you handled yourself lol
Nash is a great guy. Knowing him, he’s probably plotting a way to make it up to you
You know...he’s single
Not going there, weirdo
Jack
Just sayin’
Rolling my eyes, I don’t even bother replying. What on earth makes him think that I’m even remotely ready to think about dating?
Putting my phone on the bedside table, I roll over and snuggle under the covers. A delicious scent wafts into my nostrils. It takes a few sniffs to realize that it’s coming from the pillow beneath my head. What in the world?
Holy crap. Is this Nash’s scent? It’s subtly smokey and woodsy.
I fling myself onto my back with a grunt. Of course the enormous giant smells amazing. Objectively speaking, he’s insanely hot. All muscle with a soft stomach. Don’t even get me started on the tattoos and spots of grey peaking through his dark hair. That man is sex on a stick, but I have to stay far away from him. I will stay far away from him. The last thing I need right now is to lose my focus and get wrapped up in another guy. I’m here to get my shit together and find a new path. A man doesn’t belong on that path.
However, it didn’t hurt to get an eye full of him while I had the chance. Maybe a little spicy dream will be able to get him off my mind.
Fingers crossed.
* * *
At some point I must have fallen asleep, but the universe decided to be a bitch and not give me the naughty dream I was hoping for.
I hesitate in bed for a moment, straining my ears to see if he’s still here. I don’t hear anything.
“What the hell am I doing?” I chastise myself aloud. I’m Cora Dashwood. I don’t hide in a bedroom like a scared child.
Well, at least not for a second time.
Throwing on leggings and an oversized sweater, I pad into the living room to see the pillows arranged and the blanket neatly folded. My shoulders drop as the tension leaves my body. Thank God. He must be gone.
Then, just outside the kitchen, I’m hit with the comforting smell of coffee, eggs, bacon, and maple syrup.
“Good morning,” Nash says over his shoulder when I enter. “Thought I heard you walking around,” he says casually, spatula in one hand and frying pan in the other. “Breakfast?”
Doesn’t he realize that a man cooking is like catnip to women?
“Um, yeah. Thanks.” I wish my response had been warmer, and that I didn’t still feel suspicious of his kindness. A wave of sadness washes over me as I think back to a time when someone doing something kind wouldn’t have made me wary.
Nash shoots me a warm smile over his shoulder before reaching for a mug and filling it with coffee. “I don’t know how you take it. Need milk or sugar?”
“I usually have it with almond milk and a shit ton of flavored syrup, but sugar is fine.”
“Oh, you’re one of those,” he teases, his eyes sparking with a challenge. The ones that add all kinds of crap to it.”
“All that crap tastes delicious. Please tell me you aren’t a black coffee drinker. Black coffee is for serial killers,” I fire back. My heart skips a beat. I shouldn’t have said that. Hopefully he doesn’t get mad.
But Nash surprises me. He throws his head back and laughs loudly, clutching his stomach. Relief washes over me. Turning to flip the bacon, he wipes a tear from his eye as his shoulders shake with residual laughter.
“Serial killers, huh? Guess I need to reevaluate my coffee choices.”
I can’t help but laugh with him. We fall into a comfortable conversation about the town. The weather. Nothing too deep or personal, which is exactly where I’d like to keep it.
A while later, the front door bursts open, startling me. Jack appears, dropping his overnight bag on the floor and joining us in the kitchen. His dirty blonde hair is shaggier than the last time I saw him, and his deep tan tells me that he’s been spending all of his free time surfing.
“Good morning, you two. Don’t you both look cozy,” he says, pretending as if the comment is completely innocent. He’s going to try to play matchmaker, but it isn’t going to work. I won’t allow it. Shooting daggers at him from across the room, he sticks his tongue out when Nash isn’t looking.
Shithead.
“Sorry about last night, J,” Nash says, scratching his neck. “I popped out to the store and grabbed stuff to make breakfast. Consider it my way of apologizing to you both for causing such a mess.”
Jack waves him off, then saunters over to the island and wraps me in a big hug from behind. “How’s my favorite cousin this morning?” he asks, placing a kiss on the top of my head. He still towers over me even though I’m sitting on a stool.
“Seeing as I’m your only cousin, that’s not the compliment you think it is.” I roll my eyes, pulling away from his embrace so I can stand and give him a proper hug.
I try to pull away, but he doesn’t release me. Instead, he holds onto my shoulders at arms length. “I’m really happy that you’re here. How are you holding up?” He keeps his voice low, but I’m sure Nash heard him.
“I’m much better now, and so glad that my favorite cousin is always there for me.” My lip trembles as the weight of what I’ve been through crashes down on me. It had been a matter of survival to bottle up my feelings to deal with later. Now is technically later, but Jack’s kitchen is not the time to open that Pandora’s box.
I sit back down and slowly sip my coffee. A delicious smell wafts from the stove, a delightful mix of sweet and savory.
Nash breaks the silence. “I hope you both like waffles and bacon.” He walks over with two trays balanced in his hands. A mountain of fluffy waffles and the crispiest bacon I’ve ever seen are placed before me. I’m immediately salivating.
I have an unhealthy obsession with waffles that I don’t care to change.
“Oh my god, I could kiss you right now,” I mumble. My fork hovers in midair, halfway to snagging a waffle from the tray. Nash didn’t hear that, right?
“Who knew all it took was making waffles to get a gorgeous woman to offer kisses?”
All right, so he did hear.
He smirks to himself before he grabs orange juice, butter, and maple syrup, placing them on the counter.
What is it about this guy that’s got me so tied in knots? That’s a stupid question. I already know. Too bad I didn’t meet him before my life became all screwed up.
Like an enthusiastic puppy, Nash happily sits across from me on a stool, filling his plate with mounds of waffles and bacon before drowning it in syrup. He speaks energetically to Jack about what’s happening at the firehouse and plans he has later that day to visit his sister.
“Ollie’s gotten huge, man,” he says before turning to me. “Ollie is my sister’s toddler and my best buddy.” He grins, his cheeks full of waffle and puffed out like an adorable child.
“Yes, and it pisses your sister off that he’s basically your mini-me,” Jack adds.
“Yep, which makes me oh so happy.” He quickly drains his glass of orange juice before rubbing his soft stomach and giving a contented sigh.
“This food is incredible, Nash,” I say. “I could get used to having breakfast like this every day.”
Breakfast is hands down the greatest meal of the day, and anyone that disagrees with me is wrong.
“I’m glad to hear it. Cooking, and admittedly eating, are two of my favorite things to do.” He gestures to the two trays. “Eat up, there’s plenty here.”
Previous partners would make me feel guilty about my healthy appetite, so I hesitate momentarily.
Fuck it. They aren’t here, and I no longer need to cater to their messed up ideals.
I stab my fork a bit too aggressively into the stack of waffles, causing the metal fork to clang loudly off the ceramic tray.
“You okay over there?” Jack asks, raising a questioning brow.
“Yeah, guess I don’t know my own strength.” I weakly laugh as I place the fluffy goodness on my plate.
“Don’t know your own strength?” Nash says. “Me and my jaw beg to differ.”
I don’t know what comes over me when I stick my tongue out at him. Is it immature? Absolutely. Did it feel good deep down in my soul? You bet your ass it did.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” Jack jokingly reprimands as he playfully nudges my shoulder.
I stick my tongue out at him as well. Then, I hop off of my stool and make quick work of clearing the dishes and loading them into the washer. Jack comes to stand next to me, pretending to help.
“So…” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.
“So, what?” I reply, looking at him confused.
He jerks his head in Nash’s direction, who wipes down the counter with a cloth, the muscles in his tattooed arms on full display. “What do you think of Nash?”
“Drop it,” I warn, trying to keep my voice down and failing miserably.
“Drop what?” Nash asks, walking over to us. The warm smile that never seems to disappear is enough to make any woman melt into a puddle.
“Oh, nothing.” I change the subject quickly. “Thanks for breakfast, Nash.” I give his arm a brief squeeze before facing my annoying and lovable cousin. “Jack, I wish I could say that it’s been a pleasure, but your mother would scold me if I lied to you, so…”
Jack flings a dish towel in my direction, missing me completely. I race down the hallway and upstairs, cackling to myself.
I’ve barely entered the room when the sound of my phone ringing catches my attention. A chill runs through me. This much dread from a damn phone is something I never imagined would happen to me. Checking the screen, it’s an unknown number, which can only mean one thing.
Ryan.
“Won’t be answering that,” I mutter as I send the call to voicemail. My stomach sours with anxiety. My future doesn’t have room for a man who could easily play a villain in one of those cheesy Hallmark movies.