18. Chapter 18
Sadie
I paced across Cole’s bedroom, wondering if I’d just ruined my chances at being happy. Why had I told him not to make it real? I wanted it to be real. I just let that stupid voice inside my head take over and say I couldn’t be weak.
And I’d seen his eyes. He’d looked at me as if I’d betrayed him. And that wasn’t fair. He was the one with this whole stupid idea to begin with.
Someone rapped on my door.
I went over and cracked it open. Tiffany stood there, perfectly composed, holding out a dress. “This is Lainee’s. I called her and she said you could borrow it tonight.”
I swallowed. “Tonight?”
“For the family dinner.”
I opened the door and took the dress. I’d never heard of a dress-up family dinner. “Thank you.”
“I left one for your sister. It’s on her bed.”
I nodded.
She gave me a polite smile and walked away, heels clicking down the hall.
What was I getting into? I didn’t know how to live in a place where people dressed for dinner. Where there were butlers. Where guest rooms had themes and their own bathrooms.
If all of Cole’s family were going to dress up, I didn’t want to look frumpy. I dug through my suitcase and pulled out my curling iron.
Cole’s room had an attached bathroom, so I went in and plugged in the curling iron. I took a quick shower, dried my hair, did my makeup, then started curling.
When I was halfway finished, someone knocked.
I hurried over and opened the door. Cole stood there, his eyes fixed on me. I couldn’t read his expression.
“Can we talk?” he asked.
I shrugged, aiming for indifference. “Follow me to the bathroom.”
His brow pulled together.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m curling my hair.”
He stepped inside and leaned against the counter while I worked.
“We need to set a wedding date. My sisters are already bugging me. Any ideas?”
“I don’t care.” I hated how flat that sounded. He hadn’t done anything wrong. I was the one who’d panicked.
“Then let’s do it soon,” he said. “I want everything settled.”
I nodded and set the curling iron down for a second. “Might as well.”
“My brother, Dax, just called. He wants to know if we want to buy the house next door to him. It’s not finished.”
“Not finished?”
“He bought a big field. Built his house. Chance built one next door. Dax had another one partially built, hoping I’d buy it someday.”
“Why half?”
“So I could finish it how I wanted it. I didn’t even know about it until today. It’s livable, but designed to be expanded.”
Live next door to his brothers? I didn’t even know his brothers. But staying here? Under Tiffany’s microscope? That felt worse.
I reached for the curling iron without looking and grabbed the wrong end.
I yelped and dropped it.
Before I could react, Cole was there. His arms wrapped around me, guiding my hand under the faucet. Cool water rushed over my fingers.
I took a few shaky breaths.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his breath tickling my ear.
“I’m not sure,” I said, turning my hand to see a red spot. It throbbed, but Cole’s breath on my face was distracting, so it couldn’t be that bad.
“Keep it in the water,” he said, releasing me.
He grabbed the hand towel and got it wet. He took my hand from the water and studied it. “It’s going to hurt, but I don’t think you need the doctor or anything. Here, hold the wet towel against it.”
I looked in the mirror and frowned. “Now I’m going to look ridiculous for dinner.”
“What are you talking about? You look great.”
“I didn’t get it all curled.”
He pulled a stool next to the counter. “Sit.”
I sat.
He picked up the curling iron and glared at it. “How hard could it be?”
My eyes went wide. “You cannot curl my hair.”
His lip turned up in the corner. “Says who?”
He took a piece of hair and wrapped it around the iron. “How long do I leave it?”
“I don’t know. Maybe ten seconds?”
He let a curl fall over my shoulder. Cole Hart was curling my hair. That was a fantasy I’d never thought to have.
I wondered if I could tell him I wanted to take back what I’d said earlier.
“How’s the hand?” he asked.
“Throbbing. I think I dropped it fast enough. It won’t be too bad.”
He nodded and curled another piece.
“Why is there a stool in the bathroom?”
He shrugged. “I think the girls all use them to do their hair. They’re in all the bathrooms. I usually throw stuff on mine.”
“That’s a surprise. You’re normally so clean.”
He grinned and kept curling.
“This is weird,” a voice said from the doorway.
I turned. A man who had to be one of Cole’s brothers leaned against the frame. Same jawline. Same eyes. Leather jacket. Hair that looked intentionally messy.
“Hey, Dax,” Cole said.
“Good to see you.”
“Don’t you knock?”
“Obviously not.” His gaze shifted to me. “You must be Sadie. Nice to meet you.”
I smiled. “You too.”
“Looks like you have Cole trained.”
“I burned my hand.”
“Ah.” He waved his hand. “I’m Dax, by the way.”
“Do you need something?” Cole asked.
“I thought you might want to see me. It’s been a while. I am your favorite sibling.”
“You wish.”
“I really do.”
“Where’s Taya?”
“Downstairs trying to hide from Mom.”
“Hiding?”
Dax laughed. “Mom likes Taya for some reason. That means Taya gets a lot of advice. She doesn’t know how to tell Mom to back down.”
“I bet.” Cole met my eyes in the mirror. “Don’t let my mom bully you.” He ran his fingers lightly through my curls. “I think I got it all.”
“Thanks.”
“Let me see your hand.”
I moved the towel and showed him the red spot. “I doubt that will even blister.”
He turned my palm over and pressed a soft kiss into it.
I swallowed and pulled my hand back gently. Maybe I hadn’t scared him off completely.
“Did you talk about buying the house?” Dax asked.
“We were talking about it when you came in.”
“And?”
“Can we see it?” I asked.
“Yep. Come by tomorrow.”
I glanced at Cole.
“We can do that,” he said. “How big is it?”
“Not huge. About four thousand square feet, right now.”
I blinked. My entire apartment had been nine hundred. I couldn’t even picture something that big.
“What could we add?” Cole asked. “Could we double it?”
“Easily.”
I shook my head. “What would we even do with eight thousand square feet?”
Dax grinned. “You sound like Taya. She says she has a two-bathroom cleaning tolerance. Anything past that is on me.”
“You don’t have someone come clean?” Cole asked.
“We do now. Taya fought it at first, but she warmed up.”
I stayed quiet.
It felt like I’d stepped into someone else’s life. A life where houses came half-built and doubled in size. Where cleaning was optional and bathrooms were negotiable. Cole and I didn’t just come from different neighborhoods. We came from different realities.