Chapter 9 Grace
Chapter nine
Grace
Iwoke up on Cole’s chest completely refreshed and rested. I lifted my head and looked at the man whose kisses had curled my toes and who’d wrung more orgasms out of my sated body than it’d had in the last six months. His eyes were closed, and he snored softly but was so peaceful.
Carefully, I slipped out of bed and shrugged on one of his flannel shirts, giggling when it almost reached my knees.
After a quick stop in the bathroom, I padded out to the kitchen and started the coffee.
I needed coffee and food, and I needed them now.
That man had stamina for days and I’d certainly worked up an appetite.
I was cracking eggs into the skillet when two long, muscled arms slid around my waist from behind, scaring me half to death.
With a squeal, I jumped, dropping an egg on the floor.
“Shit!” I swore as I tried not to step in the goo.
Cole just chuckled and released his grip. “I got it,” he told me, his voice deep and rumbling.
I tried again and got the eggs going as the toaster popped.
Cole chucked the wad of egg-covered paper towels in the trash before reaching for one of the coffee mugs. “Is this for me?” he asked.
“Yep,” I smiled, popping the ‘p’. “Now, how do you like your eggs?”
Ten minutes later, we were sitting side by side at the kitchen counter sharing breakfast like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“A guy could get used to this,” Cole declared, pushing his plate away and rubbing his stomach.
“A guy could or you could?” I pushed.
Cole growled and grabbed the legs of my chair, dragging me closer to him. “You better not be cooking breakfast for anyone else, Grace.”
I gulped.
Something possessive in his words started the tingling all over again.
“Oh.”
“Yeah. Oh.”
Cole’s hands landed on my bare thighs, the warmth of his touch flooding me before he captured my lips in a kiss that left no doubt about what he wanted.
By the time he pulled back, his shirt had been inched up my legs and I was almost to the point of self-combusting.
“Don’t you have farmer things to do today?” I asked, attempting to redirect his attention.
“Farmer things?”
I slipped off the stool and started collecting our plates. “Yeah, you know. Chase animals and ride horses.”
“Is that what you think I do?” There was mocking in Cole’s voice.
I just shrugged as I started filling the sink.
“There’s always shit to do around here, but I’d much rather do you,” Cole purred as he rounded the counter and cornered me against the sink.
“Cole,” I panted breathlessly.
He pressed a wet kiss against my exposed collarbone. “Yeah, sweetheart, I got shit to do. What are your plans for the day?”
My head was spinning. It felt all too easy. Sharing a meal, talking about our day. It would be easy to get caught up in the fairy tale and convince myself that this was my happily ever after.
Half an hour later, I was dressed, this time in my own clothes and Cole had led me out to my car.
“What are you doing tonight?” he asked as I slid behind the wheel.
He was leaning on the car door, looking down at me. I couldn’t shake the sight of him stepping out of the shower, water rivulets skating down his chest in all his naked glory. The man was a work of art and should be proud of what he was packing.
“Tonight?”
“Yeah. You know, after I do my farmer stuff.”
“You’re a smartass, you know,” I tossed back at him, knowing he’d never let me live my comment down. “But as for tonight. I’m not sure. I’m supposed to be helping Georgia and Gabriella at the B&B …”
“But after that?”
“After that? It could be nine o’clock before I finish if they make me help with dinner.”
“So? Nine’s not too late. Want me to pick you up or are you going to drive out here?” Cole asked.
“Who said I was coming?” I threw back, refusing to let him be the only one tossing out orders.
Cole squatted beside the door and reached through, his hand sliding along my thigh barely grazing the seam of my cutoffs. “Sweetheart, you’ll be coming all right. You’ll be coming on my fingers, on my tongue, and on my cock. And you and I both know you want to.”
Cole’s filthy words did things to me I couldn’t deny. A shiver passed through my body. As Cole traced his fingers across my thigh, we both knew I’d be back in his bed before the day was over.
“I don’t like you,” I declared, refusing to admit how much I actually did like him.
“Oh, sweetheart, you only wished you didn’t.” Cole smirked and it was official. I was fucked. Completely and utterly fucked. Less than twenty-four hours with this man and he was changing everything I thought I knew, and worse, what I thought I wanted.
I pouted, and Cole just chuckled before leaning in and kissing me again. Damn, cowboy kisses were addictive. Between his Southern accent, his mama’s boy manners, and his kisses, I was confused how someone hadn’t locked him down years ago.
“Now, get out of here before I show you what real farmers do and take you for a roll in the hay,” Cole teased as he rose to his feet, stepped out of the way, and shut the door.
I wound down my window. “Sounds itchy. I’ll skip that one, thanks,” I told him as I started the car.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’ll have you rolling around in the hay before you know it,” Cole said, his words thick with promise.
“See you later.”
“Tonight, Grace.”
“Tonight,” I confirmed before blowing him a kiss and releasing the parking brake.
I drove home as giddy as a schoolgirl with her first crush.
I didn't know if it was the morning filled with mind-blowing orgasms, the great conversation with someone who wanted to actually listen to what I had to say, or the promise that there was more to come. Either way, by the time I bumped down the drive at the B&B, I couldn’t wipe the smile from my face.
I parked my car under the tree and collected my things. The moment I climbed out, I heard a slow clap echoing across the lawn. When I looked up, I saw Gabriella standing on the edge of the porch smirking and clapping.
I lifted my hand and waved. “Morning,” I called.
“Morning,” she replied as I moved closer to the steps.
“Well, well, well. Now that’s a walk of shame if ever I’ve seen one,” Georgia declared as she appeared on the porch with a towel draped over her shoulder.
I knew at that moment I had two choices. I could cower and deny it, or I could straighten my shoulders, hold my head high, and own it. It was an easy choice.
“No shame here,” I told them pointedly as I dropped down on the bottom step and tugged off my boots, taking a second to massage the balls of my aching feet.
“Oooh. Tell me more,” Georgia encouraged, dropping down beside me and bumping her shoulder with mine.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I informed her, knowing very well that all it was going to take was a bottle of wine and they’d know every single detail.
“Did you have a good time at least?” Gabriella asked as she bounced down the steps and stood on the grass.
I looked at my sister and smiled. She was stunning.
The perfect picture of a housewife. Today her dress was white and covered in tiny cherries with a wide skirt and a thick red belt secured at her tiny waist with a gold buckle.
Her feet were bare, and her toenails painted Barbie pink.
Her caramel-colored hair was pulled back in an elegant French twist. Gabriella was beautiful and didn’t look at all like me.
She was elegant and put together, and I was, well, I smelt like sex, my hair was a mess, and I was pretty sure I was walking with a limp.
“It was fun.” I shrugged, trying to downplay it. The last thing I needed was for my sisters to get ahead of themselves and think this was something more than it was.
“Fun? Fun? That’s all you’re giving us?” Georgia pouted.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Everything. Was he good in bed? Was he …?”
“Georgia!” Gabriella cut her off, and I chuckled. While I was grateful for Gabriella not giving Georgia a chance to ask, it was amusing to see how much she squirmed.
“You two are no fun,” Georgia complained.
“Oh, I’m plenty fun. Want to call Cole and ask him just how much fun I can be?” I offered, holding out my phone.
“You suck!” Georgia stomped before heading back inside, letting the door slam behind her.
“Cole didn’t complain,” I muttered, and Gabriella almost choked on air.
I patted her on the back, reminding her to breathe. When Gabriella looked up again, her eyes were watery and cheeks cherry red.
“You’re almost as bad as she is,” she accused and now it was my turn to laugh.
“Come on! I’m not even close!” I defended.
“Wanna bet?”