“Can I see it sometime?”
“Of course,” he said, sounding surprised I’d even asked. “The inspection is happening next week, and if all goes well, I’m hoping to close two or three weeks after that and be in by the first of the year.”
“That’s really exciting, Cole. I’m happy for you.”
The server brought my check, and I signed it to my room. When we were alone again, Cole smiled at me across the table. “So is your mom still mad about the plate?”
I laughed. “I think she’s forgiven us.”
“Good.”
Another silence, during which we locked eyes and the air between us crackled with tension. Was he remembering that kiss?
“I should go up to bed,” I said, rising to my feet.
“Same.” Cole stood too. “What floor are you on?”
“Second.”
“Me too. I’ll walk up with you.”
My legs felt shaky as we left the bar and climbed the lobby stairs. As we neared my room, I pulled my keycard from my purse. “This one’s mine,” I said, gesturing toward the door.
He nodded. “I’m in two-eighteen.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t sure what to do with that information—other than imagine myself sneaking down to his room.
NO, my inner adult scolded. No sneaking.
No sneaking and no sexting and no saying anything but goodnight.
Because the way he was looking at me was making it hard to breathe.
“Well, goodnight,” I said, opening the door to my room.
“Goodnight.” He stuck his hands in his pockets.
I entered my room and shut the door.
At least, I tried to shut the door—Cole’s hand shot out and stopped it. “Cheyenne, wait.”
My breath caught. “Yes?”
“I just want to say that I’m really glad to see you made it up here safely. I was worried about you making that drive.”
“I’m fine.” I glanced down at my outfit. “A little grungy and disheveled, but fine.”
“You’re always beautiful.”
Our eyes met. I wanted to thank him, but I couldn’t speak.
“Also . . .” He struggled for words. “I want you to know that I thought about you all week. And I wish . . .” He paused. “I keep wishing things were different.”
I smiled and lifted my shoulders. “I wish things were different too, but I appreciate your honesty.”
“So we’re okay?”
The tightness in my throat made it hard to get the words out. “We’re okay.”
He nodded. “‘Night.”
“‘Night.” I closed the door and leaned back against it, trying not to cry.
We might be okay, but I was not.
Ten
Cheyenne
Blair texted me early, before my alarm even went off.
Flights out of Nashville are grounded.
Reading my screen in the dark, I gasped and sat up. Before I could reply, she called me.
“Hello?”
“I knew it,” she said, and I could tell she was crying. “I knew everything was too perfect.”
“I’m so sorry,” I said in my most soothing voice. “But the wedding is still going to be perfect, Blair. It’s going to be okay.”
“They say they don’t want to drive up because the roads are so bad,” she sobbed. “How can they do this to me? My own family.”
“Listen to me. Let’s focus on the most important thing—you are getting married tomorrow. And they’re not your only family anymore, okay?”
“What if no one can get here, not even from Bellamy Creek? I’ll have a wedding and no guests!”
“Listen, people from Bellamy Creek are used to driving in the winter. They’ll be fine. And next spring, you’ll get married again down in Tennessee. I’ve never been to Nashville, and I’d love for you to show me around!”
She sniffed. “Okay. You’re right. I need to focus on the good.”
“That’s my girl.” I got out of bed and went over to the window to pull open the drapes. The brightness nearly blinded me—the entire landscape surrounding Cloverleigh Farms was covered in snow, and it was still coming down. “Yikes.”
“Yikes, what?” Blair asked, alarmed.
“Nothing.” I bit my lip, blinking at the world of white outside my window. “Everything is beautiful.”
* * *
In a way, Blair’s panic about the weather was a good distraction for me—keeping her calm and thinking positively took up all my time and effort. I had no headspace left over to be upset about Cole.
The day passed quickly—champagne breakfast with all the bridesmaids, plus Mariah and my mom; a slow, careful drive into town for our spa appointments; a light lunch in town before we all went to our rooms to get ready for a late afternoon wine tasting at Cloverleigh’s winery, which would be followed by the rehearsal and then dinner.
I wasn’t sure what the guys did all day, but Blair was on the phone with Griffin constantly, and between my brother and me, we did our best to reassure Blair that the wedding of her dreams was still possible, even if half the guests didn’t show.
We were on our way back to Cloverleigh Farms after lunch when she clutched my arm. “Oh my God, who’s going to walk me down the aisle? I can’t believe I didn’t think of that!”
“Don’t worry about a thing,” I said, patting her hand. “I have an idea.”
When we got back to the inn, I sent Blair up to her room to rest and headed for the lobby desk. It surprised me to see April there at reception.
“Hey,” I said. “What are you doing here?”
“Our regular desk manager had to stay home with her kids today—snow day, no school,” she explained. “I was already here, so I said I’d fill in this afternoon. How’s Blair holding up?”
“Okay. She’s disappointed her family won’t make it in, but what can you do?”
April nodded in understanding. “Always a risk with a winter wedding in Michigan.”
“I wondered if you might be able to help me,” I said. “Blair is worried about who will walk her down the aisle since her dad won’t be here, and I have an idea. Can you tell me if a certain guest has checked in yet?”
“Sure,” she said, moving over to her computer screen. “What’s the name?”
I gave her the name, and she shook her head.
“Not yet, but they haven’t canceled.”
“Okay, good. Can you let me know when they check in or if they cancel?”
She nodded. “Sure thing.”
“And don’t say anything to Blair, okay? I think it will be a nice surprise for her—something sweet.”
She winked at me. “You got it.”
* * *
The wedding party met up in the lobby at four, and together we all walked over to the winery, laughing as we slogged through the snow in jeans and boots, none of us wearing the dress clothes we’d packed for the occasion.
I walked with Blair and Frannie, but I was keenly aware of Cole’s presence behind us with the rest of the guys. Both Enzo and Beckett had made the drive safely, along with Enzo’s parents and Beckett’s dad, and we’d also seen lots of familiar faces from Bellamy Creek in the lobby checking in. Blair had cheered up immeasurably.
Inside the winery, we tasted wines poured by Frannie’s sister Sylvia and her husband Henry, snacked on charcuterie and cheese, and shook our heads at the apocalyptic way the snow continued to fall.
I probably—make that definitely—drank a little more wine than I should have, and I found myself pleasantly buzzed as we walked over to the wedding barn, where the rehearsal was taking place.
“Can you believe this weather?” Cole asked, falling in step beside me. “I haven’t seen this much snow in a long time.”
“Me neither. Where’s Mariah?”
“My mom is bringing her over.” He glanced at me. “Having fun?”
“Yes. Although I tasted too much wine.”
“Same here.”
<
br /> “My head is spinning. Is my nose red?”
“No. You look perfect, Cheyenne.”
“Thanks.” I laughed. “This is not the outfit I planned on wearing, but given the blizzard, I decided against the sexy black dress and heels.”
“You were wearing that sweater the night we had dinner at DiFiore’s,” he said.
“Was I?” I slipped in the snow, and he caught me before I went down on my ass.
“Whoa. You okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” I said, recovering my balance and laughing a little. “You know how I love getting tipsy when it snows.”
He laughed too, keeping his grip on my arm. “Right. I walked you home that night so you wouldn’t fall.”
I giggled. “I fell years ago.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Jiminy Cricket, did I say that out loud? We reached the door to the barn, which Griffin was holding open for everyone. “You know what? I just need a minute,” I told Cole. “Some fresh air before I go in.”
“I’ll wait out here with you,” he offered.
“No, that’s okay. You can go in and find Mariah. I’m sure she’s looking for you.”
“Mariah will be fine for a minute.” Cole nodded at Griffin to go in, and a moment later, we were alone.
Staying a good two feet away from him, I drew in deep breaths of icy air, willing it to defog my brain.
“Blair seems to be holding up okay,” he said. “Too bad about her family.”
“Yeah, but I have a surprise for her.” I smiled. “Charlie Frankel is going to walk her down the aisle. He should be here for rehearsal any minute.”
Cole grinned. “She’ll love that. Those two have always been close, haven’t they?”
I nodded. “He’s like her adopted grandpa. She adores him. Right before we went over to the winery, I got the news that he’d checked in, and I went to his room to ask him. He almost cried.”
“He made that drive alone?” Cole was surprised. “He’s in his eighties, isn’t he?”
“He drove up with Beckett and his dad.”
“Oh, good. Well, it’s a great idea.”
“Thank you.” I dipped into a little curtsy, making him laugh. Then I shivered. “Ooh, it’s chilly. Should we go in?”
“Sure.” He pulled the door open for me. “You know, I’d have liked to see you in that black dress.”
My jaw dropped. “You would have?”
“Sure. But that’s not really news, is it? I mean, I’d like to see you in anything. And nothing.”
I cocked my head. “Officer Mitchell, are you drunk?”
He gave me his crooked grin. “Maybe a little. Mostly I just wanted to know what it would feel like to say what I was thinking.”
“I know exactly what you mean. So how did it feel?”
He moved closer to me, letting the heavy door swing shut behind us. His mouth was at my ear. “Pretty fucking good.”
I gasped.
It was the phone sex voice.
* * *
I had a hard time concentrating after that.
The rehearsal went fine, although Blair burst into happy tears when Charlie Frankel showed up offering his arm, and much of the wedding party was kind of drunk, which made April a little concerned that none of us were going to recall where to stand and what to do tomorrow, and every time Cole and I locked eyes I felt my cheeks catch fire. As he escorted me back down the aisle, my hand tucked inside his elbow, I felt like the heat was coming off him in waves. I actually started to sweat.
On the way back to the inn, someone—probably Griffin—started a snowball fight, and pretty soon we were all hurling snow at each other, slip-sliding on the lawn, pumping our fists if we landed a good shot and shrieking in outrage if we got hit. Afterward, I joined Mariah in making snow angels, and by the time we made it inside the inn, every one of us was wet and shivering.
“Okay, you guys,” Blair said. “You have thirty minutes to get yourselves cleaned up and respectable. Dry clothes, nice shoes, and no hats.”
“You sound like a kindergarten teacher,” I teased her.
She pointed in the direction of the stairs. “Go!”
Up in my room, I yanked off my boots, peeled off my damp sweater and popsicle-leg jeans, and considered the items in my closet. One floral blouse, one long velvet gown, and one sexy black dress.
I bit my lip. Should I?
While I was standing there, my phone pinged with a text. I ran over to the bed to check it.
Cole: Wear the dress.
I grinned.
Me: Are you still drunk?
Cole: Nope. I just want to see you in it.
Me: I will take that into consideration.
Unable to wipe the smile off my face, I swapped my boring underwear for something black and lacy, shimmied into the dress, and stepped into my heels. The dress was long and clingy, with a high slit and camisole straps. It didn’t reveal a lot of cleavage, but it definitely showed off my curves. I didn’t have too much time to fix up my hair and makeup, but I did the best I could—repairing my mascara, fussing with a hair dryer and curling iron, and reapplying my lipstick.
When I was ready, I wrapped an ivory cashmere scarf around my shoulders, blew myself a kiss in the mirror and headed out.
I had no idea if Cole had changed his mind about putting on the brakes. I had no clue what might happen between us tonight. I could not imagine what was behind his sudden flirty behavior.
But I refused to ruin my effervescent mood and rare burst of confidence by overthinking it. Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was the dress, maybe it was just being tired of wanting something so badly and holding it in, but I felt good in my skin tonight. Sexy. Confident.
The moment I walked into the bar, Cole turned around like he knew I was there. His eyes went wide. His jaw dropped. He grabbed the knot on his tie and pulled it loose.
Smiling, I moved closer, slipping in next to him at the bar. “Hi.”
“Holy shit.” His eyes ran over my skin, head to toe. “You’re stunning.”
“Thank you. You look good too.” Good was an understatement. He looked like a men’s fragrance ad, all glittering blue eyes and sharp chiseled jaw. He wore dark dress pants, a white shirt, and a tie that matched the color of his eyes. “I like the tie.”
“Mariah chose it.”
I laughed. “I’ve been replaced as your stylist, I see. Is she down yet?”
“She’s coming down with my mom in a minute.” He shook his head. “I’m beginning to regret telling you to wear the dress. I’m not going to be able to keep my eyes off you tonight.”
“Good,” I said, perching on the edge of the bar stool and crossing my legs just so.
Again, his eyes did the thing I’d been waiting for them to do since I was twelve years old—see me.
And only me.
Eleven
Cole
I cornered Moretti at the bar after dinner. “Help.”
“With what?” He looked confused.
“I did what you said to do, and now I need help.”
“What did I say to do?”
“You said to have a little fun, and I did. I said things.”
“So?”
“So now she’s wearing that dress and I’m about to lose my mind!” I tossed back the rest of my bourbon and ordered another, although I knew I should slow down.
Moretti laughed. “Yeah, you’re toast, dude. I saw the way you were looking at her during dinner.”
Groaning, I glanced over to where she stood talking to Griffin and the wedding planner, and the wedding planner’s husband, who happened to be Tyler fucking Shaw. As a pitcher, I should have been over there too—I was a baseball fanatic and I’d followed Tyler’s career from the time he was a first-round draft pick right out of high school. But I couldn’t think about baseball. I couldn’t think about anything except Cheyenne in that dress and how badly I wanted to get my hands on her. At dinner she’d been seated right across from me, and I
couldn’t even tell you what I’d eaten—in fact, I wasn’t even sure I had eaten—because I was so preoccupied with the tilt of her head and the curve of her shoulder and the glow of her skin.
“I’m a mess, Moretti. I fucking told her that we had to slow down, if not stop altogether, and now I’m a mess. I haven’t been able to think about anything but her for a week.”
“Jesus Christ, Cole. Relax.” Moretti sipped his whiskey. “If you get too worked up ahead of time, you’re gonna go off like a rocket, especially if it’s been a while.”
“Oh, it’s been a while.”
“Like how long?”
I had to think about it. “A few years.”
Moretti almost choked. “Years? Damn, that’s even worse than I thought. How do you live, man?”
“Look, it’s not easy for me, okay? I’m a cop in a small town, and everyone knows me or knows my kid or knows my mom. I don’t fuck around.”
Moretti shook his head. “You must have willpower of steel.”
I grabbed my new drink off the bar. “It’s never been this difficult to control myself.”
“I say go for it. All she can do is say no.”
“You think she’ll say no?” Panicking, I swallowed some more bourbon.
He shrugged. “Depends. I don’t think you should lie to her and tell her you’re in love with her just so she’ll sleep with you, but if you invite her back to your room and she says yes, I’d say that’s a pretty good indication she’s up for a good time tonight.”
“Is that what you’d do? Invite her to your room?”
“Definitely.” He looked around. “But where’s Mariah? Is she staying with you?”
I shook my head. “No. She’s with my mom, and she already went to bed.”
“Okay, good. So here’s what you do. Find out what she’s drinking, order her another one, and then say something like, ‘It’s so crowded in here, maybe we—oh, fuck no.’”
“Huh?” I frowned at him. “You lost me there at the end.”
“This cannot be happening.”
“What?”
Make Me Yours: The Bellamy Creek Series Page 13