by Lori Wilde
The same kind Cole had used to date—superficial arm candy.
It surprised him to realize he didn’t want that kind of woman anymore. Then again, he was making assumptions based on her appearance which wasn’t fair. She could be Mother Teresa for all he knew. Not smart to judge a book by its cover.
Not cool, Bailey, not cool.
The present unwrapping continued. He’d have to tell his mother how popular Bailey baby monitors were. She’d be pleased. Pippa had already gotten three.
Ron strolled over to where Cole was lurking in the corner of the room, trying to look inconspicuous. Most of the guys had wandered out to the patio.
“Bailey... Which twin are you?” Ron thumped his shoulder.
“Harry.”
“Harry?” Ron frowned. “There’s not a Harry—oh, ha, ha. You’ve got to be Cole. The sarcastic twin. What are you doing here, buddy? You married?”
“Not married.”
Ron winked. “Then you’re probably here for the same reason I am, you rascal. Showers are great places to meet women.” Ron flashed a toothy grin. He looked good except for beefy jowls and slightly thinning hair.
“Who’s the hottie next to Pippa?” Ron asked after a short pause to comb his hair with his fingers, then locked his gaze on Tess.
“She’s with me,” Cole said.
“Sure she is, like Candy’s with me. Candy’s my cousin.”
“You date your cousin?” This was interesting.
“Naw, she just asked me to drive her over.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “She’s from Cleveland and here to visit my mom. You want to connect with a beautiful babe? You’re halfway home when you’re seen with one.”
Pippa finished with the presents and managed to get to her feet by clutching the edge of the couch and boosting herself up.
“They’re going to cut the cake now.” Tess slipped beside him with Ron’s cousin in tow. “This is Candy Allen. You two are going out next Saturday.”
What happened to letting him meet women on his own? Wasn’t that why she’d dragged him to the shower?
Next to him Ron Howser was salivating, sticking out his hand at Tess. “Hi, my name is Ron. Will you marry me?”
She laughed.
Damn it, Tess laughed at his terrible joke. Howser was about as funny as a heel blister. Worse, she let herself be led away by the jerk for punch and cake, leaving Cole to talk with Candy.
He tried to track where Tess and Howser went, but Candy latched on to his arm and told him she was crazy about baby showers.
“You missed most of it,” Cole said.
She lowered her lashes and cast him a sideways glance. “I think I got here just at the right time.”
“Uh-huh.”
“Don’t go away. I’ve gotta go powder my nose.” Candy wriggled her fingers and disappeared.
Desperately, Cole searched the room for Tess. She was nowhere in sight.
The handful of men were on the back lawn playing hacky sack. Heavy gray clouds threatened to break up their game. Or maybe it was their plan to get wet—soaked clothes and muddy shoes would break up the party. Ron wasn’t among the fugitives in the backyard.
He searched the rest of the house until there was nowhere else to look but the basement.
Cole took off down the basement stairs, his heart pounding double time, anxiety fisting his gut.
The basement was a single concrete-block room with the usual furnace, water heater, and storage boxes—except for the pool table.
Tess and Ron were playing. The skirt of her blue dress he liked so much was stretched taut over her bottom as she leaned across the table, showing just enough of her thigh to weaken his knees.
“I’m challenging Tess for a dinner date,” Ron boasted when he saw Cole. “If she can beat me, I’ll spring for Chez Henri. She tells me I’ll love frog legs.”
“No kidding?” Cole stepped between Ron and Tess. “Let me give you some pointers, Tess.”
“Go away, Cole,” she muttered without looking up.
Howser laughed uproariously.
Tess took her shot, and the dull thud of a ball in the side pocket said it all. She’d won a meal at Chez Henri’s with Ron.
“This is great,” Cole said. “Since I have a date with your cousin, we can make it a double.”
“Oh no, we can’t. We’re not double-dating.” Tess held the pool cue like a Samurai sword.
He didn’t for a moment doubt what her target would be.
Ron looked puzzled. He didn’t have a clue why sweet little Tess was playing gladiator with a stick.
“Okay.” Cole backed up a few steps. “No double date. It was only a thought.”
Tess wanted to go home. She wanted to put on her pajamas, watch Bride of Frankenstein, and figure out why she’d agreed to another silly bet. Until Cole showed up, she’d planned to throw the pool game. She would’ve missed her last shot, let Ron win, and get out of going to Chez Henri’s with him.
Now, thanks to Cole’s interference, she had a date she didn’t want and no graceful way to get out of it. Ron didn’t remember her from high school, and she saw no reason to refresh his memory.
Double date indeed. Tess snorted.
She was just about to tell him goodbye and call an Uber when Cole picked up her purse and came closer. “Ready to go?”
“More than ready,” she muttered, taking her purse from him and slinging it over her shoulder.
They told Gil and Pippa goodbye and headed outside.
It was raining.
Cole offered to fetch his truck and pick her up at the door since he’d had to park down the block, but she didn’t want any favors from him.
“It’s only half a block,” she said, stepping from beneath the shelter of the porch awning and trying to ignore the torrents of water raining down.
She splashed through puddles that had formed wherever the sidewalk dipped. Her hair was dripping wet, and she’d be lucky to salvage her shoes. Ugh. The day just couldn’t get any better.
Cole hurried after her, unlocking the door of his pickup with the remote, and she flung the passenger door open before he could get to her. Swiftly, she scrambled onto the high seat before he showed up to help her inside and slammed the door.
Looking hurt, Cole rounded the truck and got into the driver’s seat, his wet shirt sticking to his muscular torso. He seemed invincible, but he had mush for brains if he couldn’t see how she felt about him. He started the engine, and they rode in silence for several minutes.
Finally, he said, “I can’t believe you’re going out with Ron Howser.”
“A bet’s a bet.” How well she knew.
“You didn’t have to win.”
“I didn’t plan to until you showed up.”
“Huh? That doesn’t make sense.”
“You’ve got that right,” she mumbled.
“What’s wrong with a double date?” He drove slowly on the narrow suburban street, his windshield obscured by the driving rain and the back-and-forth movement of the wiper blades.
“Like the last one we were on was such a blast?”
“Ron isn’t a nice guy.”
“Probably not.”
“You’re pretty calm about it.”
“I can take care of myself. What can happen at Chez Henri’s? Anyway, Ron is cute.”
“Cute?” He snorted.
“Jealous much?”
“Not at all. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
It’s too late for that. She squared her chin. “You don’t need to worry about me.”
They drove without talking while rain beat on the roof of the pickup and condensation from their warm breaths blurred her window. She didn’t pay any attention to where they were going. They could’ve ended up in Ohio for all she knew. When Cole finally pulled into her apartment complex, she slipped out of her seat belt.
“Thanks for inviting me to the shower,” he said.
She hadn’t expected him to say that. “You’re
welcome.”
“It was a good idea…well…except for Ron,” he added.
“Just because you don’t like him—”
“I don’t trust him.” He cut the motor and turned to face her.
“I can handle him.”
“Can you? What if he tries something?”
“Like what?” Common sense urged her to go inside, but she wanted to linger.
He leaned over and scooped her into his arms, kissing her before she saw it coming. “What will you do if he does this?”
He kissed her again.
The touch of his lips on hers was so tingly and light she felt electrified. She didn’t consciously part her lips, but oh, how delicious it was to feel his tongue teasing the top of hers.
“What will you do if Ron kisses you like that?” he asked softly.
“This.” She kissed him back with all the oomph she could put into it.
Then it didn’t matter who was kissing whom or why.
He ran his fingers through the damp strands of her hair and cradled the back of her head while his mouth created havoc. He gently caressed her eyelids with kisses and nuzzled her cheek and the sensitive spot under her ear.
She braced herself, sure he would kiss her again, and when he did, her bones melted. She’d ached for him to kiss her like this. She was giddy, swooning, transported.
If only this meant something to Cole...
Reality intruded and brought her down like a grand piano tumbling off a skyscraper. Without saying anything, he got out of the pickup and ran to her side. She had the door open by the time he got there, and she tumbled into his arms in her haste to get out.
They ran side by side to her door, the wind plastering her skirt against her thighs as the rain lashed at both of them.
“You’re soaked.” Cole pulled her into his arms under the low overhang that sheltered her door.
“So are you.” She held her key and twisted out of his arms to open the door. When she got it open, she tried to slip inside, but he held her back, his arm circling her waist.
“You didn’t tell me how you’ll handle Ron.”
Huh? He kissed her as if he meant it, and then he wanted to talk about Ron, dopey Ron? Was he kidding?
She jerked free and darted through the doorway. “Like this,” she shouted over the drumming of the rain and her own pounding heart.
Resolutely, she closed the door in his face and secured the chain.
She learned something that evening—Bride of Frankenstein wasn’t as much fun viewed through a veil of tears.
11
Tess stared at the artfully arranged slivers of veal on the silver-rimmed dinner plate. The three tiny boiled potatoes were so perfectly shaped they reminded her of Ping-Pong balls, each sprinkled with bits of fresh parsley and swimming in grass-fed butter. The asparagus spears were arranged like soldiers on full-dress parade—heaven forbid one bright-green head should list to the side.
She wouldn’t be surprised if an enraged French chef charged her with a carving knife if she dared disturb his work of art by eating it. But then, a fancy French restaurant was a good place to go when you weren’t particularly hungry. She had a strong suspicion the customers were there to admire the food, not to pig out.
“Do you want your roll?” Ron asked, most of a buttery cloverleaf roll still tucked in his cheek.
“Take it, please.” She pushed her bread plate across the brilliant white tablecloth. Maybe with both cheeks full of dough, he’d stop talking about his favorite person for a minute. Already he’d covered every event in his life from birth to buying his first sports car in tedious, mind-dulling detail.
If she ever bet on pool again, she was going to shave her head and tattoo the word Idiot across her forehead.
Oh, sure, Ron was superficially a good date—tall, Nordic blond, and handsome, but superficial was the key word for his personality. He knew everything about matters no one cared about and nothing about how to connect with another human being.
The sad thing was, she couldn’t even dislike him. He couldn’t help it that he wasn’t Cole.
She half listened to Ron and fantasized about Cole. She wanted to shanghai the troublesome Bailey twin and send him through the St. Lawrence Seaway in a canoe with earbuds glued to his head playing the “Wedding March.”
She picked at her meal—actually, it only took a couple of picks and it was gone—and decided the evening couldn’t get much worse.
Then it did.
Cole walked in with Candy. The curse word she uttered made Ron stop talking and look at her, eyes wide.
“What’s wrong?” He dropped the fork he’d been using to scrape up the last drops of what looked like a delicious sauce from his plate.
“Oh, nothing, just a twinge in my tooth.” She fibbed, afraid if he saw his cousin with Cole, he’d want to share a table with them, not that the tiny tops were big enough for two, let alone four. They were designed for ankle rubbing and knee bumping, maybe so the diners would forget they were being robbed blind by the minuscule portions.
In the touchy-feely department, Ron was either easily discouraged or he was going to make his big pitch later.
“The dessert cart looks interesting.” He watched the waiter push a number of sweet treats to a nearby table. Fortunately, they provided enough distraction that he didn’t see Cole and Candy sitting on the other side of the room.
“I’m much too full for anything but coffee,” Tess said, “but you go ahead.”
“Great!” Ron beamed, but she was too busy staring at Cole and Candy to notice.
What were they talking about? Why was Cole laughing so hard? What had Candy said to him? Even worse, why did he have that silly grin on his face? She knew what it meant when men had a certain goofy look—love at first sight...or maybe lust at first sight?
“Smallest coffee cups I’ve ever seen,” Ron grumbled.
“Sure are.”
She couldn’t help smiling at the way his thick fingers clutched the delicate little cup. Ron didn’t score very high as a date, but she wasn’t much of one herself. The guy was spending next week’s paycheck on dinner. The least she could do was be cheerful—and show Cole Bailey she was having a great time.
Ron gobbled up his dessert as she ordered a refill of her coffee, dreading the moment when they would stand up to leave.
Not that Cole didn’t know she was there. She saw him peeking over the top of a menu in their direction.
She couldn’t catch his eye, but he knew about the time and place from the wager at the baby shower, and he’d deliberately come to the restaurant where she was on a date. What she didn’t know was why.
This business of Cole involving her in his social life was making her crazy, but she couldn’t sit there torturing herself any longer. Nor could she consume another drop of coffee without a comfort call, which meant passing close to Cole and Candy’s table.
She chose to make a dash for it when the waiter served Cole and Candy dessert, giving her a few seconds to zoom by unseen.
Damn, that waiter was quick. Didn’t he know enough to fawn or chat or do something entertaining to earn a bigger tip? She’d heard of a French restaurant where the waiters wore roller skates. She needed a pair herself to streak past Cole, but it was too late.
He spotted her. “Tess. What a surprise seeing you here.” Cole flashed that wicked Bailey grin.
“Don’t give me that. You knew Ron and I were coming here.” To his blonde date, she said, “Hi, Candy. Having fun?”
“Cole is a stitch. Has he told you the joke about the mayor’s masseuse?”
“Tess wouldn’t like that one,” Cole said. “Don’t want to make her blush.”
She rushed back to her table without a backward glance.
Ron drove her home and made a halfhearted attempt to get some reward for the pricey meal, but he was good-natured about her refusal to invite him in. They parted on civil terms, and he didn’t even bother to tell her he’d call again.
&nbs
p; Which was hunky-dory with her.
Cole didn’t call to report on his date that evening or all the next week.
Tess started staying even longer hours at the store, catching up on work and preparing for the Christmas season, the make-or-break time of year for retail stores. It was hard to plan displays of Santa’s elf pajamas and red caps and mittens when the weather was hot and muggy in the last throes of summer.
Much harder to pretend she wasn’t dying inside, her heart shriveling up like a dried apple when she thought of Cole with Candy, or anyone else with him for that matter.
Lucinda didn’t come back to her job at the Shops at Rockstone. She’d gotten pregnant on the honeymoon and couldn’t wait to be a mom. On Thursday, though, she did drop in to see Tess at Tikes and drag her to lunch. After fifteen minutes of baby talk, Lucinda asked who Tess was dating.
“No one.”
“You should start thinking about your future. After all, you’re two months older than I am. Doug has a friend at work…” Lucinda munched a street taco.
“No. Oh, please, no. No blind dates. I’m perfectly happy with my life the way it is.” Tess held up both palms. Before a Bailey bad boy complicated everything. Now she was reduced to lying to a friend, not that Lucinda could be discouraged once she had an idea.
“Well, I’ll feel him out anyway in case you change your mind.”
That afternoon life took a turn for the worse. Tess was downright disoriented when Candy walked into the store.
“Tess, I’m glad you’re here. I need another baby shower gift, but I wanted to thank you, too. I owe you big time. My date with Cole was fabulous! We’re going out again Saturday.”
“Well, that’s nice.” Her chimichanga lunch turned to battery acid in her stomach, and she forgot how to smile.
“I think he’s the one for me,” Candy gushed, clutching her interlaced hands to her cheek. “He is so funny and cute and sexy. I haven’t had so much fun in ages. Best of all, I think he feels the same way about me. We’re made for each other!”
Professional women didn’t burst into tears in their place of business. They didn’t scream or strangle customers, either. And she was a professional to the bone.