Chapter 9
nine
Cole
Over the next two weeks, I settle into a comfortable routine.
I get up at the butt crack of dawn and go for my usual five-mile run to get the blood pumping.
Once I get back, I shower, scarf down a simple breakfast, and begin my hunt for Charlie to find out which task she’s chosen to tackle around the resort that day.
When I locate her, we begin our little game where she pretends my mere presence annoys her and grumbles about not needing my supervision, while I ignore her bad attitude and stay close anyway.
I’ve learned that Charlie doesn’t eat breakfast until mid-morning, and Dee wasn’t kidding when she said the woman has a mean streak when she’s running on empty.
I’d like to say I stick around because I’m a nice guy and want to make sure I’m available should she need a helping hand.
But she and I both know watching her swallow her pride when she eventually hits a dead end and doesn’t know how to proceed has become the highlight of my day.
Sad, but true.
She’s currently attaching new siding to one of the smaller cabins while I sit on the screened-in porch and enjoy my morning coffee.
I can see her frustration grow when the nail gun she’s using jams and refuses to cooperate.
I try not to gloat when she blows out an agitated breath and gives me a pointed look through the netting.
Bringing my brand-new Moose Harbor travel mug to my lips, I take a leisurely sip and arch a single brow. Then I wait.
“Would you come out here and have a look at this stupid thing already? If you’re going to stick to my ass like an unwanted boil, you may as well make yourself useful.”
I recoil at the nauseating image she’s planted in my head and begrudgingly get to my feet.
Plucking the troublesome tool from her outstretched hand, it only takes a few minor adjustments before I hold it out to her again.
Charlie rolls her eyes like I did something to offend her, but doesn’t reach for it, choosing to hand me a piece of paneling instead.
Her way of saying, I’m done being stubborn and will graciously accept your help.
We work in comfortable silence for a while, and I find myself enjoying our dynamics.
I like that she doesn’t feel the need to fill the air with mindless chatter.
She stays focused on what needs doing, and I’ve come to appreciate the distraction.
Helping Charlie fix this place up keeps my days and mind busy, which in turn keeps me from spiraling.
And Tink may act like I irritate her, but I feel the relief rolling off her whenever I take the lead and give her instructions she can follow.
She’s a hard worker. Determined to turn this flailing business into something she can be proud of, and I admire her tenacity.
It’s not easy starting over, let alone doing it in a remote place such as this, with little to no help, which brings me back to the one question that’s been nagging at me since she took me out for breakfast. What made her uproot her whole life and move to a town like Moose Harbor, of all places?
I don’t believe for a second that a simple breakup would’ve caused her to take such drastic measures.
“How old are you?” I blurt, and her mouth slackens with disbelief.
“You know, it’s considered rude to ask a lady’s age.”
I scoff, pushing the tip of the nail gun against the wall, waiting for the resounding pop before I reply. “You should know by now that I don’t give a shit about etiquette. Besides, you may be many things, sweetheart. But a lady, you are not.”
“How dare you?! Are you saying I don’t have manners?”
“I’m saying I’ve seen you shotgun a beer on Dave’s front porch and the sound you produced after you crushed the can with your bare hands made me storm out the front door hoping to catch a glimpse of that massive bull moose.”
Charlie throws her head back and barks out a loud laugh before she wipes at the corner of her eye and says, “You know, this may come as a surprise, because the name of this town suggests otherwise, but we don’t actually have moose on the peninsula.”
I flick a dismissive hand in the air, all but tapping my foot to let her know I’m not letting the question go.
“I’m thirty-three,” she finally supplies. “Why do you ask?”
I take a minute to think about how to best approach the subject, before I settle on, “Just seems odd that a woman your age would move to a town this size. I haven’t met a lot of the locals, but I’m assuming the dating pool is rather shallow.
You don’t want a family someday? Not hearing that biological clock ticking just yet? ”
An unknown emotion flits over her features. It comes and goes so fast, I almost miss it. But I was trained to read people, and the way she tensed at the mention of kids tells me there’s a story there.
“It takes a partner to start a family, and I’m not interested in one right now. I’ve been happier on my own these past four months than I was during my entire last relationship. I’m not really looking to tie myself to the next guy who makes it his sole mission to make my life miserable.”
I blow out a low whistle. “Yikes. Someone really did a number on you, huh? I feel sorry for the poor sap who ends up falling for you. He’s going to spend the next decade attempting to repair whatever damage your douche of an ex has caused.”
“Which is exactly why I’ve sworn off men completely,” she states, propping her hands on her hips and pinning me with a defiant look.
“I don’t need anyone to fix me. There’s nothing wrong with me, and there never was.
Now, if you asked my douche of an ex, I’m sure he’d disagree, since I never seemed to be able to do anything right.
I’ve spent years walking on eggshells in my own damn home, in an effort not to do or say anything that might upset him.
Always putting his wants and needs ahead of my own.
Never again. I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than put up with another insecure man-child expecting me to stroke his fragile ego every second of the day, while never offering a single thing in return.
Let’s just say I developed a whole new appreciation for the crazy cat ladies of the world. ”
I study her for several heartbeats before I decide it’s too early in the day to pry open whatever can of worms she’s just cracked with her passionate little rant. But there’s one more thing I find myself curious about.
“So what do you do when…you know?” I ask, lifting my eyebrows and waiting for her to grasp my meaning. The corner of her lip twitches, but she feigns ignorance.
“If you want an answer to that question, you’re going to have to spell it out for me, tough guy.”
“You don’t miss fucking?” I ask straight up and take immense satisfaction in the way her skin once again flushes so prettily. I have to hand it to her, though. She recovers quickly.
“I don’t have to be in a relationship to fuck.
Besides, my little bullet-shaped sidekick gives me more satisfaction than a man ever could.
The best thing is, I don’t have to hold his hand afterward and praise him for a job well done.
I simply shove him to the back of my drawer, and there he remains until his services are needed again. No fuss, no muss.”
Our eyes lock and hold for a long tension-filled moment, in which I try my best not to imagine her writhing on her bed, clenching the rumpled bedsheets in a tight fist while she presses her battery-operated friend to her little clit.
The vivid scene plays in my head with such startling clarity that it’s almost like it’s happening in real time.
In my mind’s eye, her back arches as she squeezes her eyes shut with a pleasure-filled expression on her angelic face.
She throws her head back, her thick curls spread out on the pillow around her like a fiery halo.
The rich color perfectly matches the slight flush spreading over her chest and cheeks.
Her plump lips form a perfect O as she releases a whimpering sound that leaves me trembling with the need to touch.
Fuck, it’s been too long. The mere fantasy of her has my dick throbbing, and I’m about to come in my pants like some horny, unrestrained teenager.
I clear my throat and turn away, ignoring her knowing chuckle.
Blowing out a shaky breath, I lift the nail gun and resume my task while I attempt to get myself back under control.
What I need is a nice, long jerk-off session in the shower.
One that will hopefully help rid me of this incessant need that’s been plaguing me since I first laid eyes on the infuriating woman, who is currently smirking at me like she’s just won her first sparring match.
The problem is, the smug look on her face only makes me want to shove her to her knees and put her in her place, which does absolutely nothing to discourage my eager dick.
I need to stop thinking of her that way. Charlie and I are a disaster waiting to happen. She’s a ballbuster. A man-hater who prefers sex with inanimate objects to actual human connection. That’s because she’s never had a real man between her creamy thighs.
Shut up, I tell the devil on my shoulder, beating him back into submission by sheer force of will.
Goddamn it, I’ve always loved a challenge, and Tink throwing it in my face that no man has ever managed to give her the same toe-curling pleasure she supposedly gets from her little device, is pretty much equivalent to waving a red flag at an angry bull.
I haven’t had sex in over two years. An unfortunate fact my raging hard-on seems to be painfully aware of. He’s practically begging me to take mercy on us, straining against the zipper of my jeans in his desperation to bury himself in her tight little pussy.
Jesus Christ, Cole, get your shit together, I silently reprimand.
She’s just a girl.
We don’t talk again until the last piece of siding is firmly attached to the outside wall.
By the time I’m done helping Charlie get packed up, I’ve managed to convince myself that I’m not even that attracted to her.
So, when she extends an invite to dinner, offering me a home-cooked meal as a thank you for my continued assistance, I happily accept.
“Anything I can bring?”
“Just your sparkling personality,” she says, sarcasm dripping from every word. “Dinner will be ready at six. Don’t be late.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it. But you'd better have cold beer and hard liquor on hand. Something tells me I’ll need a couple of stiff ones to get through an entire evening with you.”
Charlie’s calculating smile grows impossibly wide. “Don’t worry, Champ. I have just the thing for you,” she tells me before she gives me a mock salute and disappears down the trail.
I remain rooted to the spot, shaking my head with regret. Knowing I’ll never get to dig my fingers into that perfect, round ass of hers is disappointing, to say the least. Then I remember the reason for my self-imposed celibacy.
Forcing myself to turn away, I head in the opposite direction, putting some much-needed distance between us. I don’t deserve to feel good, and neither does my cock.