She turns on her side to look at me, her eyes serious. “I love you, Lo, and I am so glad that you’re here.”
Tears push at my eyes because I’m so very grateful to have found my friend again, despite how we parted before. I need her just as much as she needs me, and it was only luck that I ended up in the same sandwich shop with Cole on that fateful day.
Because of my stupid actions, our renewed friendship is still so vulnerable, and I will forever regret what happened three years ago on the night before her wedding.
To my shame, I caused my best friend to call off her wedding after I was found in bed with the groom, naked, the morning of.
For years, I couldn’t understand what happened, assuming that I drank so much I blacked out and truly did sleep with her horrible, borderline abusive fiancé. Only recently was it pointed out to me—by Sissy, no less—what could have really happened. Was I slipped a date rape drug, roofied? It makes more sense than the alternative, but I will never truly know, and I’ve considered telling Michele about what I learned but decided against it. It won’t change the circumstances now and might add another layer of hurt to our recovering friendship.
“Fuck you, bitch,” I sniffle, “for wanting me to be a part of this fucked up world.”
“You know what I miss? Dunkin Donuts coffee,” she says.
“Pedicures,” I say.
“Air conditioning.”
“My vibrator,” I shout in good humor, only to hear someone clearing their throat behind me.
A glance up from my reclining position on the ground reveals Cole leaning against one of the trees where we hang the clothesline, his arms crossed over his chest. The muscles bulge, and I stare, my mouth watering because something about his damn arms gets me going every time.
“Uhh,” I stutter, and Michele laughs maniacally beside me. Reaching over with my hand, I blindly attempt to slap her side, unwilling to tear my gaze away from the male perfection before me.
Cole raises a bushy brow, his dark as sin eyes alight at our antics, and while I am borderline humiliated, a flush of pleasure runs through me at his demeanor. I’ll talk about vibrators all day long if it makes him smile more.
So, I smirk devilishly and raise my brow back at him, intent on keeping the momentum going even though my pale cheeks warm with embarrassment.
His eyes roll across my face, heating as they pass down my form, laid flat to the ground, over the swell of my breasts and back again. The look steals my breath, and my insides get all twittery.
Other than a hot make-out session, we haven’t consummated anything, and sometimes I just want to throw myself at the man and beg him to ravish me because I’m getting a little desperate.
Michele sits up, breaking Cole’s perusal of my body, and I sigh to myself, moving to stand as well. As usual, circumstances shatter the moment. Cole will inevitably remember he’s supposed to be sad and be just that.
I know it sounds heartless. I know. But if I have learned anything in the last few months, it’s that life is too short to wallow in the past.
“Have you seen Jase?” Michele asks, bits of fine green grass clinging to her ass.
I reach out to brush them off, patting her butt in the process, and she looks back at me with a smile. I give her a sassy wink before dropping my hand.
I don’t hear Cole’s response before Michele wanders off, leaving us alone, also a rarity. On the ranch, we dedicate so much time to ensuring all the chores get done each day that we all drop into bed at night exhausted. And since we have different sleeping quarters and I’m currently back in my old room, sleeping on a pallet on the floor, I don’t really get to see Cole on my own without interference.
The men sleep in the barn or under the stars, although that will have to be curtailed when winter comes because nobody is die-hard enough to sleep in the snow.
Being alone with Cole now creates an unexpected nervousness, and my belly swirls anxiously. Cole was livid when he found me in bed with his sister’s fiancé all those years ago, and if I hadn’t run into him, literally on the day of the outbreak, I might never have seen them again. I’m lucky that he overlooked his anger and disgust and brought me with him, and eventually, we joined with Michele, Jase, and Sissy.
It was a tough start because Cole was distrustful of my past actions and unwilling to allow me to form friendships, or maybe even relationships, due to his resentment. And when we finally took a step toward something, our budding relationship and incurable attraction to each other crumbled because Sissy revealed her pregnancy, and all thoughts of finally fulfilling my feelings were shot down in a blaze of glory.
Cole, with his sense of honor and duty, the most significant part of who he is, chose to remain with Sissy and see through his duty to his child. I couldn’t blame him. Who could? I’m not a monster, but my feelings were hurt, and these issues from our past kept popping up like a dead weight on our present.
When poor Sissy died her horrible death, I thought there was no coming back from the hurt and anger we shared, but somehow, we’re here dancing around each other. With Cole, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, expecting him to, once again, choose someone else over me.
And perhaps he’s waiting for me to break his trust by sleeping with someone else. I don’t know, but everything has created a fragile, tenuous bond between us we avoid whenever we are together, facing every moment with kid gloves.
Cole steps forward after Michele leaves, tracing a finger over my collarbone, his eyes bright, and I tremble a little under his touch, craving more as he murmurs, “A vibrator, hmm?”
I close my eyes at the incredible sensation, goosebumps rising on my skin, forgetting what he said as soon as the words leave his mouth. But he persists, his fingers moving down to my breasts, where he rubs my nipple back and forth through my bra.
“Well, sweetheart?” he rasps.