Chapter 11
ELEVEN
cole
I cornered Moretti at the bar after dinner. “Help.”
“With what?” He looked confused.
“I did what you said to do, and now I need help.”
“What did I say to do?”
“You said to have a little fun, and I did. I said things.”
“So?”
“So now she’s wearing that dress and I’m about to lose my mind!” I tossed back the rest of my bourbon and ordered another, although I knew I should slow down.
Moretti laughed. “Yeah, you’re toast, dude. I saw the way you were looking at her during dinner.”
Groaning, I glanced over to where she stood talking to Griffin and the wedding planner, and the wedding planner’s husband, who happened to be Tyler fucking Shaw.
As a pitcher, I should have been over there too—I was a baseball fanatic and I’d followed Tyler’s career from the time he was a first-round draft pick right out of high school.
But I couldn’t think about baseball. I couldn’t think about anything except Cheyenne in that dress and how badly I wanted to get my hands on her.
At dinner she’d been seated right across from me, and I couldn’t even tell you what I’d eaten—in fact, I wasn’t even sure I had eaten—because I was so preoccupied with the tilt of her head and the curve of her shoulder and the glow of her skin.
“I’m a mess, Moretti. I fucking told her that we had to slow down, if not stop altogether, and now I’m a mess. I haven’t been able to think about anything but her for a week.”
“Jesus Christ, Cole. Relax.” Moretti sipped his whiskey. “If you get too worked up ahead of time, you’re gonna go off like a rocket, especially if it’s been a while.”
“Oh, it’s been a while.”
“Like how long?”
I had to think about it. “A few years.”
Moretti almost choked. “Years? Damn, that’s even worse than I thought. How do you live, man?”
“Look, it’s not easy for me, okay? I’m a cop in a small town, and everyone knows me or knows my kid or knows my mom. I don’t fuck around.”
Moretti shook his head. “You must have willpower of steel.”
I grabbed my new drink off the bar. “It’s never been this difficult to control myself.”
“I say go for it. All she can do is say no.”
“You think she’ll say no?” Panicking, I swallowed some more bourbon.
He shrugged. “Depends. I don’t think you should lie to her and tell her you’re in love with her just so she’ll sleep with you, but if you invite her back to your room and she says yes, I’d say that’s a pretty good indication she’s up for a good time tonight.”
“Is that what you’d do? Invite her to your room?”
“Definitely.” He looked around. “But where’s Mariah? Is she staying with you?”
I shook my head. “No. She’s with my mom, and she already went to bed.”
“Okay, good. So here’s what you do. Find out what she’s drinking, order her another one, and then say something like, ‘It’s so crowded in here, maybe we—oh, fuck no.’”
“Huh?” I frowned at him. “You lost me there at the end.”
“This cannot be happening.”
“What?”
“It’s her.”
I followed his line of sight and saw that Bianca DeRossi had entered the bar and was giving Blair a big hug. “Oh.”
“What the hell is she doing, following me?” He tipped up his drink again.
“I don’t know. Looks like she’s friends with Blair.”
He grimaced as Bianca made her way toward us. “Gentlemen,” she said smoothly, giving us a smile. “Nice to see you again. You’re quite the most dashing couple in the room, all due respect to the bride and groom.”
“Knock it off, Bianca. You know we’re not a couple.” Moretti glared at her.
She laughed and held up both hands. “Fair enough, I surrender. Way to ruin a girl’s fantasy.” Turning to me, she said, “I hear you made an offer on the house by the creek.”
“And it was accepted,” Moretti said with smug triumph, as if it had been a competition between them.
“Congratulations.” She gave me a genuine smile. “It’s a great house. You and your daughter will love it, I’m sure. If you need any help with the interior, just let me know.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“What are you doing here, anyway?” Moretti demanded, like this was his turf and she was trespassing on it.
“I’m a friend of Blair’s.”
“Since when?”
She gave him an odd look. “Since I moved back and we met at book club and hit it off.”
“Book club?” Moretti looked like he wasn’t sure he believed her. Either that or he’d never heard of a book club.
“Yes.” She put a hand up to her mouth and stage whispered, “We both love teenage vampires, but don’t tell anyone.
” Then she dropped her arm, her voice returning to normal.
“Now if you’ll excuse me, that drive was harrowing and I could really use a drink.
Enjoy your evening.” With one final smile—and a glitter of mischief in her eye when she looked at Moretti, she melted into the crowd by the bar.
“That woman,” he said through gritted teeth, his eyes still on her. “I don’t know what it is about her, but she drives me crazy.”
I tossed back some more bourbon. “Okay, but we were talking about me. My problem. So you think just go over and say, ‘Hey, want to go up to my room?’”
Moretti made a face like he’d sniffed something bad. “Is that how you’re going to do it?”
“What was wrong with that?”
“You need more subtlety, more smolder. You can’t just proposition her like that.”
“Well then, show me how to do it,” I said impatiently, eyeing her across the room. She was laughing at some other guy’s joke and touching his arm. He was alarmingly buff and good-looking too. A stab of jealousy pierced my gut.
“Okay, try it like this.” Moretti lowered his chin for a second, and when he raised it again, his eyes were hooded and seductive, and he spoke in a low, sultry voice. “Hey. What do you say we ditch this crowd and go someplace quieter?”
I blinked. “Wow.”
Moretti dropped the act. “Okay, now you try it.”
I took a deep breath and tried to arrange my face the way he had. I leaned toward him and repeated his words.
He frowned. “It’s not quite right. Maybe try it like this.” His face went from critical to come hither, and he swayed toward me again. “Hey. I don’t know about you, but I’ve had about enough of this crowd. You want to get out of here?”
“Oh, now see? That’s more like it.” Bianca had snuck up on us, catching Moretti pretending to seduce me. She sighed and sipped her wine. “I gotta say, real couple or not, you two are sexy as hell. Do you have a YouTube channel? I’d like to subscribe.”
Moretti rolled his eyes and looked at me. “Go. You got this. I’ll handle the viper.”
“Okay.” I loosened my tie a little—why was it suddenly so hot in here?
—and made my way through the crowd toward where Cheyenne stood chatting with some people I didn’t recognize.
The room spun a little, and the floor seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
I’d definitely drunk too much too fast. It gave me a moment’s pause—maybe coming onto her after this much bourbon was a mistake?
But then it was too late. I’d reached her side, and she turned to smile at me. “Hey, Cole. Have you ever met my cousin Liam Dempsey?”
Understanding and relief swept through me. The buff dude was her cousin. And if memory served, he was a Navy SEAL who lived somewhere out east. “I think we met once way back when.” I offered my hand, and Liam shook it.
“Good to see you, Cole,” he said.
“And this is his wife, Natalie.” Cheyenne gestured toward a pretty blonde whom I hadn’t noticed standing on his other side.
“Nice to meet you.” I shook her hand as well. “You’re from out of state, right?”
Liam nodded. “Virginia Beach. We were lucky to make it in late last night. So many flights were canceled today.”
“Hopefully, you’re not stuck here for weeks on end,” said Cheyenne. “They’ve got two kids,” she said to me. “Aarabelle and Shane.”
“Oh, really? Did you bring them with you?” I asked, thinking Mariah might like having some kids to hang out with at the reception.
“No, they’re back home,” Natalie said. “Our daughter is in second grade and had school today, and our son is only three. We decided to take a long weekend just for ourselves. We haven’t done that in forever.
” She wrapped her arms around her husband’s waist and he gathered her close, kissing the top of her head.
Another stab of envy—I wished I could touch Cheyenne in front of people like that. Go away with her. Spend the night with her.
But it was impossible.
“Well, enjoy,” I said. “I’ve got a nine-year-old daughter, and I know how hard it is to get away.”
“His daughter Mariah is standing up in the wedding tomorrow,” Cheyenne added. “She’s just the sweetest thing ever.”
Natalie beamed. “She must be thrilled. How exciting to stand up in a wedding at that age.”
“Yes.” I wasn’t sure what else to say—and how on earth was I supposed to entice Cheyenne up to my room with an audience looking on?
Thankfully, Cheyenne put things in motion. “Well, it’s getting late,” she said, looking into her empty wine glass. “And I’ve probably had enough wine tonight.”
“I hear you,” Natalie said. “I had to cut myself off already or I’d be a mess tomorrow.” She looked up at her husband. “What do you say, babe, should we turn in?”
“Sure.” Liam nodded at Cheyenne and me. “See you guys tomorrow. Sleep well.”
“Goodnight.” Cheyenne faced me as they retreated, giving me a smile. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” I knew what I was supposed to say, but somehow my tongue was tied in knots and I couldn’t get the words out.
“Having a good time?”
“No. I mean, yes—I was—but now I’m not.”
Her expression was confused. “Okayyy.”
I exhaled, my shoulders slumping in defeat, my eyes slamming shut.
Then I straightened up and looked at her again—and what came tumbling out of my mouth was the bourbon-infused truth.
“That did not come out right. What I was supposed to say was some bullshit about the room being crowded. Then I was going to ask you if you wanted to get out of here and go up to my room.”
“You were?”
“Yes. But not because the bar is crowded.” I took a step closer to her. Reached for her hand. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you. Because you’re killing me in that dress. Because I don’t want to lie awake tonight wishing I’d had the courage to tell you how much I want you.”
Her plush bottom lip had fallen open. Her brown eyes were wide. “Cole,” she whispered, her hand tightening around mine. “Let’s get out of here.”