Chapter 7
seven
. . .
Holly
I stare at my phone for ten minutes. Fifteen. My thumb hovers over his name.
I can’t do this. Can’t let him leave like that.
I hit call.
He answers on the second ring. “Holly?”
“Come back,” I blurt. “Come back to my place. Now. Please.”
Silence, and I bite my lip.
“I’m on my way,” he says.
Relief floods through me. “Okay. Good.”
“I need to tell Jesse. Give me a few minutes.”
He hangs up.
I pace. My house feels too small, too empty, too quiet. The radiator clanks and hisses, but the cold has nothing to do with temperature.
Eight minutes later, Jesse’s truck pulls up. Cole gets out, waves to Jesse, and walks toward my porch. I open the door before he can knock. “Come in.”
He steps inside, and I close the door behind him. We stand in my tiny entryway, too close and not close enough.
“I’m glad you called,” he says.
“I didn’t want to wait until tomorrow to see you.”
“Same. I…” He stops. “I’m sorry.”
“You already said that.”
“I know. But I don’t think I said it right. I don’t think you heard what I was really trying to say.”
“Then say it now.”
He’s quiet as if struggling. “I apologized for panicking. For hurting you. But I didn’t apologize for the real thing.”
“Which is?”
“For making you feel like you’re not worth the risk.” His voice cracks. “For making you feel like loving you comes with conditions. Like I want you in private but not where it costs me something.”
“Cole—”
“And I’m sorry for that. Not just sorry I hurt you. Sorry that I’ve been so wrapped up in my own fear that I didn’t see I was doing to you exactly what Mark did. Exactly what you were terrified of.”
My vision blurs at finally being seen.
“You called me back because you knew that conversation wasn’t done. That we needed more than surface apologies and promises about tomorrow. And you were right.”
A lump burns in my throat. “I was scared you’d leave and I’d never see you again.”
“I was scared, too. Scared I’d lost you. But I’ll show you.”
“How?”
“When we have breakfast out, I won’t hide or shut down. I’ll pick you where everyone can see.”
I swallow. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah. I would. Because you’re right. You deserve to be seen. Not just in private. And I’m done being a coward about it.”
Tears prick hot behind my eyes. “What changed?”
“You.” He takes a step closer. “I have lots to learn, but I’ll keep trying because you’re worth it.”
“I’m a lot of work,” I admit. “I need words and reassurance. I need to know I’m wanted on purpose, not by default.”
“I’ll give you that. Every day. In every way I can.”
I study his face. The sincerity is there, but so is the fear and the hope.
“Okay,” I whisper. “Let’s try.”
His shoulders drop with relief. “Yeah?”
“I’ll let you prove it. Not all at once. Not with some big announcement. But don’t run when someone sees us. Don’t shut down when people care.”
His throat works. “I’m sorry. For making you feel like you were convenient. You’re not.” He takes a breath. “You’re everything I didn’t know I needed. Everything I thought I’d given up the right to have.”
My ribs feel too small for what’s filling them. “Cole…”
“I love you. And I’m going to spend every day proving I’m not ashamed of that. That I’m proud of it.”
“I love you too.”
He closes the distance between us and pulls me into his arms. I bury my face in his chest and breathe him in: woodsmoke and soap.
“Stay,” I whisper. “Tonight. Stay with me.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He kisses the top of my head. “Okay. I’ll stay.”
We don’t rush.
He builds a fire in my small fireplace while I make tea. We sit on the couch, his arm around my shoulders. It’s quiet and safe. Everything I’ve ever wanted.
“Tell me about Emma,” I say. “Not the accident. What was she like?”
“Stubborn. Optimistic. Drove me crazy half the time.”
“Sounds familiar.”
His mouth quirks. “Yeah. You remind me of her sometimes. The way you see the good in people. The way you organize everything. The way you don’t give up.”
“Is that hard? The reminder?”
“No. It’s… nice. Like she’s still here, in a way.”
“I bet she’d like that you’re trying again and letting someone in.”
“Yeah. She would.”
We sit in comfortable silence. The fire crackles. Outside, the town is settling into evening with lights coming on and families gathering.
“And after, I want to run by Eli’s store and get some supplies to check your wiring. Weatherstrip your windows. Whatever else this place needs.”
“Cole—”
“Let me take care of you. Not because you need saving. Because I want to. That’s what you do when you love someone.”
Tears blur my vision once again. “Okay. Thanks.”
He pulls me closer and I settle against him, warm and safe.
Tomorrow we face the town and prove this is real.
But tonight, we’re here. Together.
Later, when the fire’s burned low and the tea’s gone cold, he stands and holds out his hand. “Come here.”
I take it, and he pulls me to my feet, then into his arms. His mouth finds mine. His lips aren’t gentle this time. They’re urgent. Claiming.
“I need you,” he says. “Need to show you. Need you to feel how much you mean to me.”
“Then show me.”
He kisses me harder, backing me toward the bedroom. We shed clothes as we go. His flannel hits the floor. My sweater follows. By the time we reach my bed, we’re down to skin and need.
He lays me down and follows, settling between my legs.
“You’re so beautiful.” As he trails kisses down my neck, his beard rasps against my skin, and I arch into him. “And you’re mine. Say it.”
“I’m yours.”
“Again.”
“I’m yours, Cole. Only yours.”
“Good.” His hand slides between my legs, and I gasp. I’m already wet for him. “So ready. You want this?”
“Yes. Please.”
His fingers find my center, circling my clit with firm pressure. Pleasure sparks through me, and my hips roll forward seeking more.
“That’s it. Show me what you need.”
He slides two fingers inside me, and I cry out. He works me slowly, deliberately, finding that spot that makes me see stars.
“Cole—”
“Not yet. Want you desperate first.”
His thumb circles my clit while his fingers curl inside, hitting that perfect angle with every stroke. I’m climbing fast, pleasure coiling tight.
“Please—I need—”
“Not yet.” He kisses his way down my body. “Want to feel you come on my tongue again.”
“Cole—”
His mouth finds me, and I arch off the bed. He licks broad and slowly, then focuses on my clit with the perfect amount of pressure. His fingers work inside me while his tongue circles, relentless.
“That’s it. Let me have it.”
The orgasm hits hard and fast. I cry out, my hands fisting in his hair and my thighs trembling around his head.
He doesn’t stop until I’m boneless, then he kisses his way back up my body.
“Beautiful,” he says. “But I’m not done with you.”
“Good. Because I need you inside me. Now.”
He withdraws his fingers, and I whimper at the loss. He reaches for his jeans on the floor, pulls out a condom from his pocket, and rolls it on quickly.
“Jesse?” I ask, breathless.
His mouth quirks. “Slipped it to me when he dropped me off. Didn’t say a word. Just handed it over.”
“Remind me to thank him later.”
“Later. Right now, you’re mine.”
He settles between my thighs and positions himself at my entrance. “Look at me.”
I do.
He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, watching my face the whole time. The stretch is exquisite as he fills me completely.
“Fuck, you feel good,” he groans. “So tight. So perfect.”
When he’s fully seated, buried deep, we both pause. His jaw is clenched, every muscle taut with the effort of holding still.
“Okay?” he asks, his voice wrecked.
“More than okay. Move. Please move.”
He pulls almost all the way out, then drives back in. Hard. Deep. Setting a rhythm that has me gasping with each thrust.
“Like that?” he asks.
“Yes… exactly like that… don’t stop…”
He picks up the pace, driving deeper, harder. One hand braces beside my head, the other grips my hip, angling me so he hits that spot inside that makes me see stars again.
“You’re mine,” he growls with each thrust. “Say it. Tell me you’re mine.”
“I’m yours… only yours… Cole.”
“That’s right. Mine. My girl. Mine to love. Mine to keep. Mine to fuck.”
The raw possession in his voice sends heat flooding through me.
“Cole—I’m close—”
His hand slides between us, thumb finding my clit. The dual sensation of him filling me, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust, and his thumb circling firm and fast has me climbing impossibly high.
“Then come for me,” he orders. “Let me feel it. Squeeze my cock. Show me you’re mine.”
The command, combined with the pressure, sends me over. I cry out his name, clenching around him as pleasure surges through me.
“Fuck…” He follows seconds later, hips stuttering, driving deep one last time as he comes hard, groaning my name like a prayer.
We collapse together, breathing hard, slick with sweat, hearts racing.
He pulls out carefully and disposes of the condom, then returns with a warm washcloth. Cleans me gently, checking my face for discomfort.
“You okay?” he asks softly. “Too rough?”
“Perfect. That was perfect.”
“Yeah. It was.” He tosses the washcloth aside and climbs back into bed, pulling me close.
I rest my head on his chest.
“I meant it,” he says quietly. “Every word. You’re mine. And I’m yours.”
“I know. I believe you.”
His arms tighten around me. “Good. Because I’m not letting you go.”
We lie there wrapped in each other, the room dark except for the dying firelight from the living room. Outside, the town sleeps. Inside, we’ve built something new.
Something real and worth fighting for.
And as I drift off in his arms, I know this is what being picked feels like.
This is home.
Morning comes too soon. I wake to sunlight and the smell of coffee. Cole’s side of the bed is empty but still warm. I find him in the kitchen, fully dressed, with two mugs on the counter.
“Morning,” he says.
“Morning.”
He hands me a mug, and I breathe in the steam.
“Ready?” he asks.
“For what?”
“Roz’s. Being seen.”
My stomach flips. “Now?”