by Kennedy Fox
Though they both knew the reluctant part was all an act. Between her, their mom, and his niece, he could be talked into just about anything. It wouldn’t surprise him if he were actually physically unable to say no to the three most important women in his life. Case in point, the call from his momma yesterday. Though he couldn’t say he regretted it. After they’d hung up, he’d contacted the shelter in town, that serviced the surrounding area as well, and offered his services anytime they needed them. He’d done it so he could tell Jemma that it was something he offered to everyone, not just her. But he couldn’t deny that as he’d left the office last night, he’d felt better than he had in a long time.
“I can’t get over how adorable Havenbrook is,” Carly said, her eyes bright as she glanced around the Square. “Seriously, I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a Hallmark movie being filmed down the street.”
It was late, the sky dark, but the streets were brightly lit with holiday lights. Stores were open later tonight to accommodate what appeared to be the entire population of Havenbrook, some even setting up stands outside with holiday confections and festive hot beverages to counteract the chill. Townsfolk wrapped up tightly in their winter gear strolled, arm in arm, through the streets, their laughter ringing along with the distant harmony of carolers.
Cole rolled his eyes and glanced down at his sister. “You still watch those things?”
She scoffed and lightly slapped his arm. “Of course I do. What kind of question is that? I like to be happy during the holidays, and sappy, romantic movies make me happy. I’ve gotten Whitney hooked on them too.”
He groaned. “C’mon, Carly. Don’t fill her head with idealistic garbage.”
She turned to him, her eyebrows raised. “Oh, so romance is idealistic garbage?”
“That’s not what I said.” Though, yes, that too. Cole’s life—hell, Carly’s too—was proof enough of that. “What’s idealistic is the idea of two people bein’ together forever.”
“I see someone peed in your Cheerios this mornin’.”
Cole ran a hand over his jaw and shook his head. “Nothing new there.”
Carly glanced ahead to Whitney, the teen’s phone illuminating her face as she managed to type and walk at the same time, instinctively dodging both people and inanimate objects. Lowering her voice, she said, “Look, I know Amber totally screwed up your outlook—”
He snorted. Yeah, his ex-wife—and ex-best friend—had messed with him, but it didn’t start there. “My outlook was tainted well before that. Or have you forgotten about our father? Or how about hers?” he asked, lifting a chin toward Whitney.
Their dad hadn’t stuck around past Carly’s first birthday, and Whitney’s hadn’t lasted past the positive pregnancy test. And the person he thought he’d spend the rest of his life with had turned into a cheater, so no, he didn’t have a lot of positive experiences surrounding love and all the shit that came with it.
Carly exhaled a long-suffering sigh, the sound so familiar, it nearly brought a smile to his lips. He wasn’t doing his job correctly as big brother if he didn’t frustrate her daily. “I’m not disagreein’ that those men were complete assholes. Are you sayin’ that’s what you are?”
“Now you’re just twistin’ my words.”
His sister hooked her arm through Cole’s, giving it a short tug. “I just don’t want you to be alone forever. Amber wasn’t right for you. I could’ve told you that before you got married—tried to, I’m pretty sure. But that doesn’t mean no one ever will be. You’re only thirty-five—”
“I’m thirty-three,” he grumbled.
“Whatever.” She waved a hand through the air. “When you tipped over thirty, I stopped keepin’ track. What I’m sayin’ is, you’re still young. I don’t think it’s healthy to lock yourself up in your house and never come out.”
“I’m out this week. I’m out right now.” He gestured around them to the bustling Square and all the townsfolk milling about. “I’ve been out for the past nearly three weeks. I don’t even live—or sleep—in my home right now.”
“That’s different. It’s not for the fun reason.”
Flashes of his nights with Sadie over the past week sparked in his mind before he shut them down as fast as they’d popped up. Not because he didn’t want to remember them and catalog every inch of her beautiful body, arched and begging for more of him, but because he enjoyed it too much when he did. And he refused to have that kind of reaction in front of his sister.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Carly asked, tugging on his jacket sleeve. “What’s that look for?”
“What look?”
“Don’t play dumb. That look that just came over your face. What were you thinkin’ about?”
Well, he certainly couldn’t tell her he’d been imagining what it’d felt like to sink into Sadie for the first time. Or the second. Or the tenth. That’d be awkward.
“I’m not… It’s not—” He was so focused on his sister and trying to figure out a way around this that he’d stopped watching where he was going, his shoulder bumping into a soft body. Cole turned toward the person, hand outstretched. “Sorry. ’Scuse me.”
“No prob— Oh, Cole,” Sadie said, her voice ringing with surprise. She darted her gaze from him to his sister, where her arm was locked around his, and back to his face, her expression falling for a split second before the disappointment was wiped clean, complete indifference replacing it. Or maybe he’d imagined it entirely.
“Sadie. Hi.”
After a few moments of silence, Carly cleared her throat. “Sadie, is it? I’m his sister, Carly. And the antisocial one with the phone permanently attached to her hands is my daughter, Whitney.”
Sadie offered Carly a genuine smile, one Cole realized she’d actually bestowed upon him this week after she’d withheld it from him for years. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. So, how do you know my brother? I wasn’t aware he had any friends.”
Sadie breathed out a laugh, her gaze flitting to his before landing back on Carly, expression uneasy. And though they weren’t a couple—weren’t even really friends—he’d had years of learning to read her body language from afar, and it was clear she didn’t know how to answer. He couldn’t blame her. They’d been sleeping with each other, yes, and had hours upon hours of intimate conversations in the dark of the night, but what did that make them? He had no answer for that and didn’t want to come up with one.
“Don’t you need to head home?” He didn’t bother to layer an ounce of subtlety into his statement because his meddling sister didn’t deserve it.
She huffed and rolled her eyes but tugged him down to press a kiss to his cheek. “Fine.” Then, for his ears only, she said, “But don’t think I’m not noticin’ this ridiculous tension between y’all. And don’t think we won’t talk about that.”
“Can’t wait,” he said under his breath.
With a grin, she turned toward her daughter. “Whitney, come say goodbye to Uncle Cole. It’s time for us to leave.”
“Oh no,” Sadie said, shaking her head. “You don’t have to do that. I don’t want to interrupt y’all’s time.”
Carly waved off her concern. “No, believe me, I’ve had my fill of brotherly interaction today. But it was so nice to meet you,” she said, authenticity ringing in her tone. “I hope I’ll see you again real soon.”
After receiving a hug from Carly and Whitney and a promise to text him when they arrived back home, Cole tucked his hands into his coat pockets and forced himself not to react that Sadie hadn’t bolted the moment they were alone. She wore jeans tonight, the fabric nearly painted on and tucked into those knee-high boots that had dug into his ass the first time they’d slept together. Her navy pea coat was unbuttoned, revealing a bright-red fitted sweater that clung to the curves he knew the exact size and shape of. Curves he’d run his hands and mouth over every night this week. Curves he’d gripped while he’d been buried deep inside her, desperate to never leave.
He cleared his throat and shifted, willing his hard-on to subside. “I figured you’d be at the inn tonight.”
“Me too, actually. But Elise must be feelin’ extra guilty ’cause she practically shoved me out the door.”
“That’s nice of her.” Though, from what he’d seen while staying there, Sadie did more than her fair share at the property, her sister barely making an appearance. “It’s just you two at the inn?”
“Yeah. Our grandma left it to us, so we’re makin’ a go of it. Or tryin’ to.” She glanced up at him as they fell into step next to each other. “What about you? Any other siblings?”
“Nope, just Carly.”
Sadie hummed, glancing toward the carolers as they strolled by, before meeting his eyes, hers twinkling with that playful gleam he’d come to recognize. “I have to admit, I was surprised to learn you weren’t spawned in a hellscape somewhere and sent here strictly to make my life difficult.”
“That would seem plausible, wouldn’t it?”
“Overwhelmingly so.”
His lips tipped up at the corners. Christ, he loved when they volleyed back and forth like this, even if it was at his expense. “Sorry to pop your theory bubble, but I was born at St. John’s hospital in Forest Falls. My sister still lives in our hometown, right next door to my momma.”
“Wow. That’s…”
“Claustrophobic?”
She laughed, and he ignored the way the sound—once so unfamiliar in his presence—warmed his chest. What the hell was she doing to him? “No, I was gonna say sweet. My parents are all the way in Florida right now, so maybe I’m just feelin’ lonesome for them. It’s too close for comfort for you?”
He lifted a single shoulder, keeping his eyes on their path instead of on her like he was tempted to. Always so damn tempted. “That, and I didn’t want to see my ex-wife every time I went out for a run or met a client or grocery shopped.”
“Ah… Small-town livin’ at its finest.”
When she didn’t say anything else, he asked, “That’s it?”
“What do you mean?”
“No crack about how you can’t believe someone would actually marry me?”
She bit her lip, her gaze cataloging his face, something secretive passing behind her eyes. Finally, she hummed and shrugged. “Maybe later.”
The laugh burst from him so sharply and unexpectedly, it surprised them both. Sadie startled before turning wide eyes on him, her mouth parted. He shouldn’t have been held responsible for how his gaze dropped to it, remembering what it felt like to suck her lower lip just to hear her response. How he’d breathed in her moans and memorized her taste. How, no matter when he’d had her, he always seemed to crave more.
“I’ve never heard you laugh before,” she said quietly. And then, as if she’d revealed too much, she cleared her throat and averted her gaze to the Square, lit up and still bustling now, even long after night had fallen. “It’s been so long since I’ve been able to attend this, I almost forgot how beautiful it all is.”
“It is,” Cole said, never taking his eyes from her. Fuck, she took his breath away, and he knew more than anyone that he was in danger of suffocating. What the hell was he doing, mooning over this woman who craved a happy ending so much she’d made a career out of it?
He averted his gaze, focusing it on safer things. Things that didn’t make him lose his mind. Things that didn’t leave him aching even after they were gone. “Makes my sister jealous anyway. She swears the Square belongs in a Hallmark movie.”
Sadie gasped and turned to face him, placing her hand on his arm. “She’s right! It looks exactly like the downtown from the one I watched the other night.”
Of course the small-town wedding planner would be invested in that shit. “Don’t tell me—you’re a sucker for those too.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t tell me—Mr. Divorce Attorney thinks it’s all garbage. There’s still probably a line of kids waitin’ to sit on Santa’s lap if you wanna crush any more hopes and dreams tonight.”
He breathed out a laugh—when did he stop finding her infuriating and start finding her amusing? “I’ll save the kids for later. As for the romantic movies, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I’ve witnessed too much not to be jaded.”
Sadie pursed her lips before nodding. “Fair enough. But I’ve witnessed too much not to be hopeful.”
“And what about when that hopeful couple comes knockin’ on my door in a year or two or ten?”
Sadie lifted a shoulder. “Then they do, but maybe that was just their path. Just because that marriage dissolved doesn’t mean those two people can’t still find their happy ending with others. I’d rather be hopeful that’ll happen than so cynical that I don’t even consider the possibility.”
He was cynical. His life—both personal and professional—had hardened him to be, but he was thankful she wasn’t jaded like him. Hopeful looked good on her.
“Sadie!” Edna called, waving as best she could while carrying two to-go cups with lids. “Been lookin’ all over for you.” She dressed the part of Santa’s more festive grandmother, wearing flashing reindeer antlers, red and gold garland draped around her neck like a scarf, and a red velour jogging suit. “And Cole! Well… Apparently, Sadie’s cookies really did the trick,” she said with a not at all discreet eyebrow waggle.
“Oh no,” Sadie cut in with a shake of her head. “We’re not—”
“Never mind that,” Edna said, though Cole wanted desperately to hear the rest of that sentence. They weren’t…what? A couple? Anything more than fuck buddies? A possibility in even the vastest reach of the imagination? “I’m just glad I found you. These are yours.” With a grin, she held out the cups toward him and Sadie.
“But I didn’t—”
“Oh, hush now, sugar. I know you didn’t, but Finn pawned them off on me, and I figured I’d pass on the bounty.”
Sadie eyed the cups skeptically. “What’s in ’em?”
“Peppermint hot chocolate—spiked, of course. Go on, take ’em. You look like you could use some loosenin’ up. Besides, you’d be savin’ me from myself. I had an…incident the last time I drank peppermint schnapps.”
Having advised Edna more than once on her extracurricular activities and thus knowing exactly what kind of mischief she got into when she was completely sober, Cole didn’t doubt her statement for a second.
“I’ll take ’em,” he offered, plucking the cups from her hands.
“Well, aren’t you a gentleman,” Edna cooed.
Cole brought one of the cups to his mouth, took a sip, and promptly coughed, the excessive amount of peppermint schnapps overwhelming his senses. Through choked breaths, he managed, “Finn made this?”
He’d been into The Willow Tree enough times to know Finn—one-third of the bar’s owners and an accomplished bartender—knew how to make a drink. Obviously. But this…this tasted like a monkey got ahold of the liquor cabinet and dumped the entire contents into this tiny sixteen-ounce cup.
“Well…he made the base, but then I added a little something.” Edna pulled out a bedazzled flask from her coat pocket and shot them a grin. “Never can have too much. If you’re not gettin’ tipsy off one drink, you’re doin’ something wrong, kids. Now, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do. Which, for the record, leaves your night pretty much completely open.” She waggled her eyebrows before shuffling off without a backward glance, no doubt intent to cause chaos elsewhere.
Cole sipped once again, grimacing at the strong flavor but powering through.
“You’re still gonna drink that?” Sadie asked, her tone incredulous.
He glanced down at her, her cheeks pink from the cold. Reminding him of last night when she’d been flushed just like that…when he’d had his face between her legs and he’d licked up all the sweetness she had to offer before sinking inside her and making them both lose their minds. Maybe drinking in her presence wasn’t his best idea, because God knew he already lacked self-control where sh
e was concerned. “Don’t want ’em to go to waste.”
“But you’re makin’ a face every time you drink it. I didn’t realize you antagonized yourself as much as you do to me.”
“If that were true, I’d have tricked you into drinkin’ the other one.”
Sadie stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and narrowed her eyes at him. “Or, you’re pretendin’ it’s awful when it’s really delicious just so you can have both.” She grabbed the other cup out of his grasp. “Nice try.”
Before he could stop her, she lifted it to her mouth and took a drink. She sputtered and coughed, gasping as her eyes watered. “Holy hell,” she croaked.
He reached out, rubbing a circle on her back, and leaned down until their faces were mere inches apart, her breath warming his lips as his cock stirred in his jeans. “Next time, maybe you should just listen to me. Believe me, if I wanted to make you gasp in my company, I’d do something else entirely.”
Sadie lifted her gaze to his, hers heating in a split second. He could get lost in her eyes, those deep, blue pools, especially now when they were heavy-lidded and hazy. Like she was thinking of all the utterly indecent things they’d done over the past week. All the things that had been running through his mind on a near-constant loop.
When he was this close to her, it was easy to forget about the townsfolk bustling around them. To feel like they were the only two people in the world and forget about all the reasons their being together was a bad idea.
The scary part was, the last time Cole had felt like that, he’d gotten lost in it and made the biggest mistake of his life.
Chapter Eleven
After swinging by The Willow Tree’s outdoor booth and sweet-talking Finn into adjusting the alcohol ratio in their festive hot chocolates, Sadie and Cole strolled along the not-so-quiet streets, their shoulders brushing with every step. Every graze had Sadie’s nerve endings firing, her breath catching as easily as a middle schooler holding hands with a boy for the first time.