“It was bad?”
“It was good. And noisy. Lacey’s not one to hold back. She delivered two healthy, beautiful, perfect baby girls twenty minutes apart. She wasn’t supposed to be able to have children. It’s a miracle.”
He smiled. And she reminded herself to breathe.
“Did her husband make it?”
“She threatened to kill him. Actually, she threatened worse things.” At his stare, she said, “Oh, you mean did Noah make it to the hospital in time? Yes. You should see him. He’s over the moon.”
She sighed. Smiled.
“Oh, I almost forgot. Lacey wanted me to tell you she’s naming the twins Colette and Colina. After you.”
“What did I do?” he asked, bewildered.
“She’s convinced her labor began because she kissed you.”
At his horrified expression, she burst into laughter. “She really did tell me to tell you that.”
“What are they really naming them?” he asked drolly.
“Olivia Rose after his grandmother and Lenora Renee after hers.”
“That’s nice,” Cole said. “How did you and Jay choose Gracie’s and Violet’s names?”
“Grace is my middle name. And Jay always brought me violets for my birthday.” She smiled at the memory, and found there was mostly joy in it.
With that, she started into the house and he followed.
Immediately the two of them went upstairs. Her daughters lay side by side on pink and yellow sleeping bags spread on the floor of what would soon be a finished bedroom. Both little girls were sound asleep. Cole’s power tools had been put away and the floor swept of debris and sawdust. The windows were open, letting in a gentle breeze.
April had checked the progress with the construction of the bedrooms and bathroom every night after Cole left for the day. The partitions were up and all the outside walls were insulated. Yesterday the electrician had finished the rough-in wiring and Cole and a teenager he’d hired had started hanging drywall. On Monday the plumber was scheduled to begin. The rooms were taking shape, but this was the first time she’d seen the purple chalk lines that had been drawn for closets and the bathtub, sink, toilet and shower.
She was intrigued by the other colorful chalk outlines, for it appeared that Gracie and Violet had brought all their sidewalk chalk upstairs. They’d drawn green squares that appeared to be beds complete with pillows, and yellow shapes resembling rectangles for dressers and blue circles for rugs and the usual rainbows, flowers, hearts and butterflies everywhere.
In a deep whisper so close to her ear she warmed ten degrees, Cole said, “They started out in separate rooms. When I checked on them a little while later, Violet had moved over here with Gracie. By then they were both sound asleep and I saw no reason to move them.”
April smiled, for her daughters didn’t like to be separated. Both of them were wearing their new pajamas. Gracie was covered to her waist with her favorite princess blanket; her stuffed rabbit was tucked under one arm. As usual, Violet had kicked her blanket off.
April bent down to get Violet and Cole scooped Gracie into his strong arms, stuffed rabbit, blanket and all. Her little girls were growing fast. It seemed such a short time ago they were as tiny as Lacey’s newborns.
Gracie slept through the ride down to her bed, but Violet opened her eyes as April lowered her to hers. “Hi, Mama,” she whispered sleepily.
“Hi, sweet pea.”
“Auntie Lacey had her babies.”
“I heard,” her mother said on a smile.
“The bunnies are getting fat.” With that, she snuggled into her pillow and closed her eyes again.
April adjusted blankets and turned on the princess night-light. She and Cole tiptoed from the room.
Perhaps it was the darkness in the hall or the intimacy of sharing something as precious as putting two sleeping little girls to bed. More likely, it was what April had on her mind.
“You’re probably exhausted. I should be going,” he said, his voice a velvety murmur directly behind her.
“Would you stay for a few minutes?” she asked quietly as she emerged into the dining room.
“Uh. Sure. I guess.”
Encouraging, he wasn’t.
The light over the table had a dimmer switch and was turned down low. Liking the play of shadows and soft light, she glanced up at Cole. Studying him unhurriedly, she noted the healthy tan of his skin, the dark brown eyes and straight nose, the strong eyebrows and short coffee-colored hair. He had one of those mouths women fantasized about. Just being in the same room with him caused a stirring deep in April’s belly.
Lacey probably would have had her shirt off by now, and Chelsea would have given Cole one of her most potent come-hither smiles. Although April would have preferred to be wearing a pretty dress, and it would have been nice if her makeup hadn’t all but disappeared, come-hither smiles and striptease acts weren’t her style. A glass of wine and candlelight would have created a better atmosphere; she would have settled for running a brush through her hair. But there was no time for any of those things. And really, there was no need. Everything she needed she had within her.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “Was there a complication with the births or something you haven’t mentioned?”
With a shake of her head, she said, “Everyone is fine. Truly, positively radiant, healthy and happy.” Her throat bobbled slightly, but she swallowed her nerves and held Cole’s gaze. “There’s something I need to tell you.”
She took a deep breath, and inhaled the scent of pine boughs and peppermint. It was Cole’s unique scent, and it gave her the courage to begin.
“First of all, thank you for staying with the girls. I wasn’t expecting that but you helped them, and me, too.”
He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up one hand. “You make a wonderful friend.” She smiled, and felt heartened when his gaze strayed to her mouth.
He smiled back. He really was doing that more readily now.
He didn’t back away when she placed her hand on his arm. Keeping her touch light and her voice soft, she said, “You don’t need me to tell you what kind of man you are. I will say this. You’re a rarity.”
“April, I—”
She placed her fingertips on his lips, for she somehow knew if she didn’t finish this now, she never would. “I had the best of intentions. I really did,” she said.
His gaze had locked with hers.
Praying this wasn’t how Violet had felt when she’d asked for a puppy she couldn’t have, April said, “But friendship isn’t what I feel for you. It isn’t what I want from you.”
Okay, he wasn’t shaking his head or backing away or calling her crazy, all good things. He wasn’t taking her in his arms, either. Hadn’t she told Julia he wouldn’t make this as easy as Marsh had?
“I want more, Cole.”
The air heated, her pulse quickened, and Cole did it all with his steady stare.
He opened his mouth, but no sound came. That was all right. She had more to say anyway. “I want you, Cole.”
For five solid wonderful interminable seconds, she thought he was going to kiss her. His lips parted and a vein pulsed along the side of his tanned neck. A hush fell over the entire house and beyond the windows the night insects started to sing. She probably could have gone up on tiptoe and gotten things rolling, but she was being completely honest, and as such she refused to resort to feminine wiles or seduction tactics.
He swung away from her and started to pace. Like a caged tiger, he went back and forth between the table and the stove before he faced her again.
He was wearing the same jeans he’d worked in today. They fit him like they were made for him, the seams, pockets and fly faded. He was one of those guys who looked good in jeans and a T-shirt, that was all there was to it. The shadow of a beard darkened hi
s jaw, and she’d been right about his hair. It had grown these past two weeks and definitely had wavy tendencies. He was tall, and no matter how many sweets she prepared, she doubted he’d gained an ounce.
“I don’t know what to say, April.”
Those weren’t exactly heady words, but he was being honest, too, so she said, “Say whatever is on your mind.”
“I’ve had a crush on you for a long time,” he said, looking for all intents and purposes as if he’d just admitted he was a serial killer.
“A crush?” she asked.
“Feelings,” he said.
She wouldn’t let herself smile yet. “How long?” she asked.
The sound he made had a lot in common with a man in pain. “Since before Jay died. From the onset, I felt guilty as sin about that. Guiltier than I can say. Don’t make this worse.”
Oh, she was going to make it worse.
“How could you have had a crush on me? We never met, never spoke until you arrived in Orchard Hill three weeks ago.”
“Jay talked about you all the time,” he said as if he was feeling miserable. “Some of the guys razzed him, said he was just lonely. Nobody was that perfect. But somehow, I knew better. When he described something about you, I could picture it as if you were standing right there. I imagined it more than I should have, April.”
“You had no one waiting for you at home?” she asked softly.
He shook his head.
“You were lonely, Cole. That’s all,” she said. “There’s certainly nothing wrong with that.” She could tell he wasn’t appeased. “I love Jay,” she said. As confusion settled behind his eyes, she said, “I’ll always love him. I think you know that. But I love you, too. In fact, I’m in love with you.”
He started toward her, and she held her breath in anticipation of being swept into his embrace. But he stopped short of touching her and held perfectly still as if poised on the edge of a high ledge. Without a word, he backed away, turned on his heel and left.
Just left. As in, he walked right out the door without looking back.
She couldn’t believe he did that.
The screen had barely bounced closed and she had barely begun to make sense of his reaction to her honest declaration when the door opened again and he bounded back in. “This is a fine mess,” he said on a growl.
A caged tiger, definitely.
“I promised Jay I wouldn’t do this.”
His large hands cupped her shoulders. And he kissed her.
It was a hard kiss, a searing kiss, an I-would-die-without-this-kiss kiss. Her eyes fluttered closed, and a song filled her chest, for it was a genuine kiss, a heartfelt kiss.
She’d dreamed of this kiss.
Tilting her head a little, she wound her arms around his neck and opened her mouth beneath his. The first time she’d kissed him had lit a candle in the darkness inside her; in a way it had brought her back to life. This was different. This was primal, and made her feel as if she’d somehow gone back to the beginning only to discover she’d been here before. Which made no sense.
She didn’t have to make sense of Cole’s kiss. He could go on kissing her forever, and it would make sense enough.
His kiss was turbulent, his mouth hard and hot, his body harder and hotter. He held her to him, his mouth moving across hers, his hands gliding down her back, molding her closer.
She wanted this, reveled in this, but she wanted so much more. She wanted to take this to another level. To claim him physically, emotionally, as her own, and to be claimed by him the same way.
It had been so long since she’d experienced this euphoria, this heady need, this melting and this sense of belonging. She moaned.
And it stopped him like a slap. When he lifted his head and opened his eyes, eased backward and finally removed his hands, she could see he wasn’t happy about any of it.
“You don’t have to stop, Cole.”
“I do. I—Jay—”
“We both know Jay isn’t here,” she said quietly. She was pretty sure his derisive snort wasn’t directed at her. “Did Jay know?” she heard herself ask. At his somewhat bewildered expression, she added, “Did he know how you felt? About your crush, I mean?”
She wanted to understand Cole’s haunted expression.
“No,” he said.
“Then when did you promise him?”
“At the cemetery shortly after I arrived in Orchard Hill,” he said. “I told him why I was here and I assured him it had nothing to do with the way his descriptions of his life here in Orchard Hill had somehow turned into fantasies that infiltrated my dreams. I promised Jay I would finish the upstairs for you and the girls and that I would watch over you while I was here, but I wouldn’t try to walk in his shoes or try to fill them. And then I slept soundly for the first time in months. I just broke my promise to him. I’m not the kind of man you deserve, April. I can’t be that man. I’m s—”
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” she sputtered. “Of course you can.”
He shook his head. It seemed he had nothing left to say then.
“You do realize you can’t make promises to people who have died.”
He held perfectly still when she knew he wanted to argue.
“Is the real me less desirable than the figment of your imagination? Is that it?”
“Of course that’s not it.”
She stood in silence waiting for him to explain his denial. Then it occurred to her. “You aren’t going to let yourself return my love because of Jay.”
“This has nothing to do with love.”
“What else is there?” she asked.
He started to pace again. Watching him, she barely moved.
He finally swung around and faced her again. “I think Jay brought me here, but not to take his place.”
Looking at him, she knew it would do no good to tell him that no one could take another’s place. There was a battle raging within Cole. It made no sense to her. But if he wouldn’t let himself love her, there was nothing she could do about it.
“I know you don’t want to hear it,” he said. “But I am sorry. You deserve better. You deserve happiness. I’m just not in a position to give it to you.”
She didn’t know how long she stared at him. Finally, heaving a sigh, she said, “All right then. You might as well go.”
“I don’t want to leave it like this. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”
“I can’t guarantee anything right now,” she said.
She needed to think. She needed to decide where she’d gone wrong.
“April.”
“I’ll see you on Monday, Cole.”
Duly dismissed, he left, albeit reluctantly. And she knew he wouldn’t return before Monday, wouldn’t walk back through that door within seconds of leaving as he had on two previous occasions. She knew he wouldn’t take her in his arms and tell her he loved her. Even though she was almost certain now that he did.
He said he’d promised Jay. She didn’t believe for a moment that was all there was to it. There was more. Something he wasn’t telling her.
Surprise, surprise.
She bolted the door and turned out the light without waiting for his headlights to disappear. She’d just offered Cole her heart and he’d handed it back to her. As far as she was concerned, she was entitled to a flare of temper.
She didn’t know whether to bang her head against the wall, stomp her feet or cry. No, crying was out of the question. She’d cried enough this past year. She didn’t stomp her feet or bang her head against the wall, either, for she’d outgrown temper tantrums a long time ago.
Doing the next best thing, she ran a warm bath, added bubbles and sank into the soft, soothing water. After the bubbles had dissipated and the water had cooled, she pulled the plug, d
ried off and donned pajamas. Wearing Jay’s robe, she wandered through her quiet house. Outside, crickets chirruped and the late night breeze wafting through the screen rattled the blinds she’d closed.
She checked the girls and studied every framed photograph in the living room. She stared for a long time at those of Jay. She missed that smile, the way his eyes crinkled and the way she’d been so sure their love would last.
She missed his presence, his strength, the honor that had always filled him. She missed everything about him, even the way he left his shoes all over the house and the way he squeezed the toothpaste tube from the top.
She missed Cole, too. It was true. Already, she missed him. And he wasn’t in some far-off realm few living humans had ever glimpsed. He was right here in Orchard Hill. She sighed, for he might as well have been on another planet.
No one ever said love was easy. The thought came, unbidden, almost as if someone had whispered it in her ear.
With a sigh, she slipped out of Jay’s robe and hung it on the hook on the back of her bedroom door where Jay had left it. She ran her hand down the lapels, but didn’t bury her face in the soft fabric, for she knew Jay’s scent was completely gone now.
By the time she finally crawled into bed, she’d gone over and over everything she and Cole had said to one another tonight. She knew what she had to do.
It was time.
Chapter Nine
Cole was dreaming.
He hadn’t expected to sleep, much less dream. But he was dreaming. April was here in his room at the Stone Inn. They were in his bed, her hands were on his chest, her legs tangling with his.
Her wavy brown hair caressed his chest, a silky curtain on either side of her face. Her breasts were pebbled, her lips swollen from his kiss. Their clothes lay scattered about his floor, but there was nothing scattered about her intentions. Or his. He’d learned her by heart, and he was going to have her. With a seductive smile, she was determined to know him just as intimately.
Even in his sleep, he knew he was dreaming. He knew because the clothing he’d shed wasn’t civilian wear.
He felt himself sinking deeper into the oblivion of sleep. With it everything began to change. He struggled against it, because he didn’t want to leave his bed, didn’t want to leave his dream of April.
A Man 0f His Word (Round-The-Clock Brides Book 4) Page 14