Chapter 5 #3
“So the boys keep joking some of them might move over here, but you might as well because it’s available,” she added.
“Are you sure?” I looked around. There was a small kitchen and living room area, a bathroom, and three entire bedrooms. I was a little surprised the guys weren’t using the space.
“I think…” she paused, her lips twisting to the side. “This place was crowded for us after the fire, and we had Tommy. He was a baby.”
“Oh, that’s a lot of people for this space.”
Maggie nodded. “It was a sad time. We’d lost the resort, for what it was at the time. It’s better now, and I’m glad it’s rebuilt. We needed that.”
I could almost feel the grief she carried. It wasn’t exactly heavy, but it burned, like an ember that never quite cooled.
“I understand. Well, thank you. Are you sure you don’t want me to pay rent?”
“It’s empty. At some point, maybe some staff will start staying over here, but so far, we don’t have any staff that’ve wanted to live full-time on-site.
So, the guys are up in one of the staff suites we built, and they like it.
Chloe sometimes stays in the staff rooms.” Maggie shrugged.
“I don’t like it to be empty. I’ve been to therapy,” she added with a sheepish smile.
“I do understand that I like to take young women under my wing because I lost my daughter, and I miss her a lot, and there are enough boys around.” Her low laugh held a bittersweet note.
“You have six of them, and Tommy.”
“I know, right?” She rolled her eyes affectionately. “I love my boys just as much as I loved my daughter, but it’s a different energy, you know?”
“Oh, I imagine. My sister says I’m the tomboy in the family.”
She curled an arm around my shoulders and gave me a squeeze as we walked back outside. “Maybe so.” She added casually, as if it didn’t matter, “For what it’s worth, Cole’s a flirt. But he’s a good man. Heart of gold, that one.”
Her tone was light, but I wasn’t sure what to make of why she said it just then.
We walked toward the parking area.
“That’s not—”
I stopped when Maggie did. “What?”
She gestured toward the car. “Oh… Oh my God.”
Maggie and I stopped and stared. Inside my car was chaos. “Are those squirrels?” I asked, blinking rapidly.
“Yup. Three of them by my count,” Maggie replied.
They were wreaking havoc, tossing a plastic bag around like confetti.
I snapped my mouth shut and glanced at Maggie. She bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. That tipped me over the edge.
I threw my head back, laughing so hard I started crying. Tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them. When I caught my breath, I shook my head and met Maggie’s eyes again. “Well. I guess I forgot to close my window.”
“Did you now?” she teased lightly.
Together, we approached the vehicle cautiously. At the sight of us, the squirrels scrambled out the open window and scampered into the nearby tall grass. I peered inside, groaning. “They found my snack stash!” I exclaimed, straightening up and spinning toward Maggie.
She nodded solemnly, her lips pressed tightly together.
“It’s okay, Maggie. You can laugh.”
She laughed again, shaking her head. “Can you start your car?”
I climbed in carefully, surveying the damage before I tapped the start button. All it did was make a sizzling sound. “Oh, no.”
Somehow, the little bandits had opened the glove compartment and clawed at the wiring. “I think I might have a wiring problem.”
“I’m sure one of the boys can take you home.”
As if on cue, the front door to the resort swung open, and Cole stepped out onto the porch.
“Everything okay?” he called, jogging down the steps toward us.
Maggie pressed her lips together again, doing an abysmal job of hiding her amusement.
All I could do was laugh and sigh. Cole approached and glanced between us, confused, until he looked through the open window.
“Oh,” he said, blinking. “Did you leave your window open?”
“Apparently,” I admitted with a snort. Another giggle slipped out.
“Squirrels?”
“We counted three,” Maggie offered, swiping at the tears rolling out of her eyes. “Oh, wow.”
“Is your car okay? Aside from the mess,” Cole prompted.
“It won’t start.” I climbed out.
“Let me try it.”
“Go for it,” I said. “Are you doing the man thing? You know, where you’re confident maybe I started it wrong?” I teased.
“Nope, but I’m pretty handy with wiring and stuff.”
“Cole’s not just a firefighter and guide, but he’s a licensed electrician too,” Maggie piped up.
“Oh? Can you do electrical work on a car? Because that’s the issue, I think.”
Cole tapped the start button on my key fob a few times, then glanced up with one brow arched. “Obviously, they went into your dash.”
“Right through there, you mean?” I pointed at my wide-open glove compartment.
“We’re all pretty handy with cars. We can get it fixed. But it’s not going to be quick.”
“I was just saying to Adele that I’m sure one of you boys would give her a ride home,” Maggie said.
“Happy to,” Cole said magnanimously.
I folded my arms in front of my chest, trying to ignore the churning uncertainty. “I’d appreciate that.” It felt like I was trying to protect my body from its own reaction to Cole—sparks and heat misfiring everywhere.
“Grandma!” a voice called from the porch.
The three of us looked up to see Tommy waving at her.
“Be right there, hon,” Maggie called back. She turned to me, her voice warm.
“Adele, it was wonderful to see you. Let me know your thoughts,” she added, gesturing toward the barn.
“Of course.”
She hurried off, leaving Cole and me alone in the parking area. He was still sitting in my car with one hand dangling casually over the steering wheel. Somehow, doing essentially nothing, the man was still sexy. My belly fluttered and my pulse took off at a gallop.
“Thank you for giving me a ride home,” I said.
“Of course. Let’s go.”
I stepped back as he climbed out.
“Should I roll up your window?”
I hesitated. “Yes, please. I don’t need more destruction,” I murmured.
“Oh, it won’t even start for me to roll it up.”
“I should’ve never gotten a new car. I need one with roll-up windows, you know? The old hand-crank type.”
“There’s something to be said for the older things,” he said with a small grin. “We can tape something over it.”
Next thing I knew, he had grabbed a tarp and some duct tape out of another truck.
I blinked. “Do you have everything everywhere, all the time?”
“I grew up in Alaska, just like you.” He shrugged.
“Yeah, but I don’t keep a tarp and duct tape in the back of my truck. That’s like…kidnappy.”
Cole’s chuckle was low and rumbly, and it sent my nerves spinning. “We do a lot of stuff here. Construction and so on. You never know when you might need a tarp.”
After he quickly taped the tarp over my open car window, he glanced my way. “Come on.” He tipped his head toward the truck he’d fetched the items from.
He startled me when he opened the passenger door for me, gesturing gallantly. “Oh. Thank you.” My voice squeaked.
“I’m a gentleman. You’ve met my mom. You think she wouldn’t insist we have manners?”
I tried to ignore the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks as I climbed in. The truck was a little high, and my foot slipped on the runner. I stumbled, right into him.
Cole caught me with one arm. Because of course he did. He was all muscle, easy strength, and quick reflexes.
I twisted to the side, completely falling against him, practically plastering myself to him. As a result, I felt every inch of his hard, muscled chest and the way his strong arm curled around me.
“Easy there,” he murmured.
To top it all off, his voice—low, with just a touch of rasp and gravel—was like a live wire to my nervous system and sent sparks flying inside me. Goose bumps prickled over the surface of my skin.
Flustered and genuinely breathless, I opened my eyes and glanced up. His face was right there. I almost kissed him.
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” I gasped.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you,” he said easily. And he did, in fact, have me.
He didn’t move to release me right away. I’d fallen in such an awkward way that I was sort of trapped between the seat I hadn’t quite managed to get onto, him, and the truck door with one foot barely balanced on the edge of the running board.
“This is a tall truck,” I pointed out, trying to find a sense of calm that didn’t exist anywhere inside me when it came to Cole.
“It is.”
His lips twitched. They were so close.
With care and attentiveness, he eased me to the ground.
He made sure my foot wasn’t twisted against the running board, then lifted one arm still wrapped around my waist. His other hand came up and smoothed my hair back where it had gotten caught on the top of the door.
My ponytail was now lopsided, a fact that would’ve embarrassed me more if I could get enough air into my lungs to care.
But I could barely breathe. My thoughts were a muddle, hazed with this sudden, unrelenting desire. Cole’s presence short-circuited my brain.
“Anybody ever tell you how beautiful you are, Adele?”
For a second, I thought he was teasing. But when I met his gaze, there wasn’t even a flicker of humor in his expression. His deep blue eyes were dark and sincere.
Once again, I tried to suck in a breath. I swallowed hard. “Well, actually, no,” I answered, honestly.
“Well, now that’s a shame,” he said, his tone low and reverent. “Because you are.”
Just like that, the old insecurity sliced through me—sharp and fast, a blade forged from memory. That insecurity had always protected me, kept people at a distance. It was the sword I wielded to hurt myself before anyone else could.
“I have a nasty scar right down the center of my chest. More than one,” I offered.
Cole’s gaze didn’t waver. “Why are you saying that?”
“Because maybe you think I’m pretty. But trust me, you won’t when you see those scars.”
“Scars don’t bother me.” His voice was steady.
Something came over me. Maybe it was adrenaline, or maybe it was pure recklessness.
Even though the space between us was close, almost too close, I reached up, caught the top two buttons of my blouse, and swiftly undid them. I pulled the fabric apart.
“See?” I ran my fingers down the line of the scars that tangled together.
I knew every inch of it. There were only so many places to cut when you had to crack someone’s breastbone open to reach their heart. The surgical team had to reach mine more than once.
Cole didn’t flinch. His hand slid down from my hair and lightly nudged my fingers out of the way. He trailed his fingertip over the line of the scar—gently, reverently—his touch never dipping below the button line. “Was that supposed to bother me?”
The concern in his eyes twisted my heart—my faulty heart, etched with real and invisible scars. I suddenly felt confused by my own reaction. “I don’t know,” I whispered.
His hand dropped away, and he curled his fingers under my chin, tilting my face up.
“You’re still beautiful. Your scars are beautiful. They’re just part of your story. Part of your strength. I’m sure you know scar tissue is stronger.”
I stared up at him. My heart kicked so hard, it almost frightened me.
He moved slowly, like I was something wild that might bolt. I couldn’t have looked away if I tried.
I blinked just as he whispered, his mouth a hair’s breadth from mine, “I’m going to kiss you right now, Adele. Unless you tell me not to.”
I couldn’t have told him not to if my life depended on it.
In that moment, I was caught in a current of need and curiosity that ran deeper than anything I’d felt in a long time. I wanted to know what his mouth would feel like against mine. I wanted more.
It felt like a thread snapped taut between us. He waited long enough, I suppose, for me to say something, anything. I didn’t.
Instead, I placed my palm on his chest, spread my fingers wide, and leaned in, closing the distance.
His lips brushed over mine once and again.
He whispered something against my lips—something I couldn’t even process—before he tilted his head, slid his hand into my hair, and fit his mouth over mine.
The hot shock of his kiss nearly buckled my knees.
But he held on tight. His strength was sure and solid, grounding me as his mouth moved over mine, teasing and testing. His tongue swept in to meet mine in a slow, deep exploration.
The sound of the resort door opening and closing shattered the hazy cocoon around us. He drew away slowly, lightly catching my bottom lip with his teeth at the last second. We stared at each other, our breaths heaving.
“Oh,” was all I could manage.