Chapter 15
POV: Cole?
That shower was fucking unbearable.
It took every bit of control to not touch her—to not fuck her again.
I promised I wouldn’t. She was sore, I knew she was after I saw specks of blood on my cock from tearing her open. I couldn’t hurt her anymore—not out of lust.
And here I was, standing in my kitchen, making frozen pizzas and drinking lukewarm beers and using every ounce of control I had left in my body to not bend her over the countertop and fuck the living shit out of her.
It was hard. It was nearly fucking impossible.
And I knew the game had changed after I asked her to stay over.
I’m sure she even knew it, too.
But still, I couldn’t bring myself to tell her—what any woman wanted to hear. That I had developed feelings for her.
Sure, I had.
And it scared the living shit out of me.
I didn’t do feelings. I didn’t play house. I didn’t dream of having a wife and children one day. I just didn’t think it was in the cards for me.
And here I was, behaving exactly opposite than how I should behave, and I knew it.
I was giving her hope.
When in reality, I was confused as shit and knew that I needed her to belong to me but didn’t truly grasp what a woman belonging to me would mean.
As I stared up at the ceiling, Abby rolled around in her sleep.
I turned slightly to admire her. Soft skin. Pink lips. She looked so angelic when she slept. She sighed softly in her sleep, her lips parting slightly as she did.
I wanted to wrap my arms around her, pull her towards me and hold her against my chest. But I knew that might wake her, and confuse both her and myself even more.
Cuddling. That shit meant dating. That shit meant a relationship. That shit meant feelings.
And right now I was at war with myself.
I dozed off to sleep, thinking and dreaming of her, even as she was sleeping right next to me.
But the simple, undeniable fact remained steady even while I slept—that Abby interested me, that it was more than just fucking with her, that I wanted her to belong to me because I felt something for her, something I couldn’t deny, something I couldn’t hide.
My feelings for her were real and my carefully self-regulated emotions were taking a hit right about now.
***
I woke as usual and rolled out of bed at 4:00 am and decided to start my day by brewing a pot of coffee.
Abby was still fast asleep in bed, her arm curled around her pillow and the blankets only covering half of her body.
And god, that was a sight to see at 4:00 am and didn’t help my already budding morning wood.
My borrowed t-shirt was hiked up, exposing her perfect, plump ass and her muscular thighs.
I fixated for a moment too long before I ran my hand through my hair and quietly shut the door behind me, watching her stir slightly in her sleep.
It wasn’t more than 5 minutes before I heard a soft patter of footsteps and saw her emerge down the hallway, her blonde hair tangled and smeared mascara underneath her eyes as she yawned. “Good morning.”
“Morning,” I said, while sipping my coffee.
She leaned over the countertop with those big blue eyes that made me want to do despicable things to her.
Hold it together, Cole. The girl can barely walk.
I tore my gaze away from hers and went to pour a cup of coffee for her then placed it in front of her. She scooted onto one of my stools and took a sip of the coffee.
“How are you feeling this morning?”
She smiled, wide and beaming. “Actually a bit less sore. I’m surprised you didn’t wake me up for another round,” she teased.
“It’s still early,” I joked.
Her face changed from pale to bright pink as she glanced down at her coffee to avoid my eye contact.
That soft disobedience of hers would either break me one day or I would break her.
I shook away the thought and studied her for a moment.
She hadn’t yet gained the confidence to make another sassy comment or glance up at me again.
A sudden knock brought me from my preoccupation then the voice sounded along with it. “Mr. Cole! Are you awake yet?”
That would be Jemma.
“Jemma,” I mumbled, walking towards the door with my coffee in hand.
Abby stayed frozen in place on the stool, tugging my t-shirt below her upper thighs, trying to make it look like what it really would look like.
Jemma barged in as she usually did, and walked right past me with a platter of food in hand, and I didn’t stop her, maybe because I wanted her to see that Abby was here and tell all the guys, or maybe because I wanted to see how Abby would respond, who knows.
“Oh!” Jemma said as her gaze froze on Abby. “You—-you have company Mr. Cole! Why didn’t you say something?”
Jemma stared at Abby and Abby stared at Jemma and neither one said a word.
“Jemma, this is Abby,” I interjected, clearing my throat.
Jemma smiled, a mix of perplexity and shock on her face.
“Good morning Abby,” Jemma fumbled.
“Good morning,” Abby squeaked out.
“Well, I’m just dropping by with your breakfast and lunch for today, Mr. Cole. I’ll drop by with dinner later and bring some more for you as well, Abby.”
“That’s not necessary,” Abby said, scrambling to her feet, trying to hide her upper half behind the couch. “I have work tonight.” She offered a strained smile.
“Well alright,” Jemma smiled. “But there’s something else.”
“Yes?” I asked.
“One of the calves is injured out in the western pastures. Do you want me to call for a check up?” Jemma asked.
I frowned.
“I can help.”
I turned to look at Abby.
“That’s what I went to college for. Vet tech and I took a few specialty classes for farm and ranch animals.”
“Well, look at that.” Jemma smiled.
I thought about it for a moment then nodded. “Get dressed, we’ll hitch up the truck livestock trailer to transport her back.”
We drove the truck through the pastures, just as far as it would let us, parked the truck then got out to inspect the calf.
Abby worked like a true medical professional.
And I admired her in silence, watching her calm the calf and inspect its injury. “You really like doing this, don’t you?”
She looked up with blonde hair spilling over her face, one half on the calves right back leg up. “Yes. It’s my dream to do it one day—to take care of animals on a ranch or farm. Not just work at my dad’s bar.”
I nodded in quiet understanding. “I know something about dreams. This one’s mine.”
For a moment, we stared at each other, until she broke the charged silence.
“Let’s get her onto the trailer. We need to bring her back to get x-rays. Right now it just looks like a puncture in the foot. I’ll clean it and wrap it for now. It might be a nail or even a bone of another animal that got in there, or maybe it was just a clean puncture,
it’s hard to tell the depth without tools or x-rays.”
I nodded, helping her to her feet then carrying the wounded calf onto the trailer.
As we got back into the truck, I mumbled softly, “thank you.”
“I wish I could do more,” she said softly, almost disappointed as she slipped into the passenger seat.
“One day you can,” I said, turning to look at her.
“One day,” she smiled, pressing her head against the window.