I’m in love with your grandson.
The words ricocheted around her head just as they had for the last few hours. She hadn’t meant to say them, they just sort of popped out. Did that mean something, or was it just the adrenaline from feeling backed into a corner by Granny Dearest? There was no denying the fact that the weekend had been a shift in their relationship. But was it love or just a heady combination of lust mixed with the emotions of going home?
“We couldn’t be more pleased with the results,” the man on the screen said. “Not sure how you managed to get Grant to not only move the site, but to set up a conservation fund? Truly amazing work, Olivia.” He smiled, and his eyes crinkled around the edges. “You should be very proud of yourself.”
Pride wasn’t the first word that came to mind. Despite having felt at peace with her decision as she walked down the aisle, over time, a part of her had started to wonder if she’d made the right call. She’d quieted that nagging little voice with assurances that it was all for a good cause. But while the bats might have come out of the situation unscathed, she was starting to feel like maybe her heart wouldn’t be so lucky. After all, even if she was falling for the man she married, she had no reason to believe he felt the same way about her.
A notification from Derek slid across the top of the screen. “Pick you up at six?”
He’d texted shortly after lunch asking if she wanted to grab a bite to eat and in her dazed and confused state, Olivia had agreed. But now she wasn’t so sure if she’d made the right call. Because even though Derek had referred to dinner as “two old friends catching up” the feeling in the pit of Olivia’s stomach was most definitely guilt. She tried her best to shake it off. It was just dinner, no biggie. Not to mention the fact that after two years, Olivia owed it to herself to finally have a bit of closure. So why did she feel like she was doing something wrong? It wasn’t like she and Cole were truly married. A piece of paper might have said they were man and wife, but he’d made it clear they were merely business partners. Then again, what if he did want more?
“Any idea when you’ll make a decision?” her client asked.
Olivia flinched. “What?”
“About your next project,” the man said. “We have a few others we’d love to have you work on. If you could crack the heartless Coleman Grant, then the rest of these ought to be a piece of cake.”
“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll certainly give it some thought.”
She ended the session and leaned back in her chair. The heartless Coleman Grant. Her client’s words were a sobering reminder. Sex was one thing, didn’t matter if it was angry and fast or soft and slow, it still didn’t mean he wanted more than the original plan. And it’s not like he’d said anything to the contrary. If there was one thing she knew for certain about Coleman Grant it was that he spoke his mind, clear and to the point. If he’d wanted more than a ninety-day merger, he would have said so.
Olivia stared out the windows of the penthouse. The sky was blue, but in the distance, she could see dark clouds making their way across the lake. Cole was a one-way ticket to a broken heart, something she’d already experienced with Derek. And while she had no desire to go down that road again, a part of her still wanted to hear what the man had to say.
“Yeah, see you then,” she typed. With any luck she’d have answers to at least some of her questions before the night was through.
Cole powered through the rest of the day, focusing on emails, and meeting agendas, and spreadsheets detailing sizable profits and minimal loss. But no matter what the workload, nothing could take this mind off Olivia for more than a few minutes. No wonder she’d felt confident she could weather a three-month arranged marriage void of any emotion. It was how she’d been living the last two years of her life. It was an approach Cole knew well, because in his own way he’d been doing the same thing. And although the source of his abandonment issues was different, the end result was the same: casual relationships without emotional connections. But that carefully constructed shield of hers had lowered a bit over the last weekend. Cole was sure of it. He’d felt it not only through the connection they’d shared in bed, but in other, more simpler ways as well. A touch, a glance, a smile. Even the way she’d laughed at him when he fell in that goddamn slop. Every moment had felt different from the ones that had come before. At least they had to him.
He slumped back in his chair as his thoughts again shifted to his wife. Other than lunch with her best friend, he had no idea what Olivia’s plans had been for the day. Or the night either for that matter. But whatever was on her calendar would have to be canceled. They needed to talk.
On the short ride home from the office, Cole debated where to even begin. Obviously, they needed to talk about Derek, the ex-fiancé Olivia had somehow failed to mention. He’d even gone so far as to ask her if she’d ever thought about getting married, and she’d downplayed the entire thing. Of course, after his conversation with Cassie, Cole had a pretty good idea as to why. Who in their right mind would want to revisit the story of how their heart was broken? But wasn’t that exactly the sort of thing couples shared? Cole was no expert, but even from his limited experience in short-term relationships, he knew that these were the topics most couples covered as they got to know each other. Then again, he and Olivia weren’t like most couples. Hell, he wasn’t even sure if they were a couple at all.
Bottom line: He needed to know where they stood. Before their trip, things had been pretty black and white. Now, putting it bluntly, it was a goddamn mess. Sorting it out was going to take one hell of a conversation, and preferably one without interruptions from jet-lagged doctors or conniving grandmothers.
By the time he reached the penthouse, Cole had come to the conclusion that what he and Olivia really needed was some time away. While it was true they’d only just returned from their weekend on the Ramsey farm, it was also true that being away had afforded them the first real opportunity they’d had to get to know each other. And fuck him, he wanted more.
He slid the Bugatti into one of his reserved parking spaces then dug his smartphone out of his pocket and fired off a quick email to his assistant, asking her to clear the next three days. Cole could only imagine her reaction because if the next few days were anything like today had been, it was going to take a Herculean effort to rearrange his schedule. But if anyone could handle a last-minute wrench, it was Yvonne. Just one more reason why he paid her enough to make sure she was never tempted to leave him.
With that taken care of, Cole hit the speed-dial number assigned to his pilot. He answered on the first ring.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Good evening, Patrick. I’m going to need the jet ready to go in an hour.”
“Yes, sir. Where will we be headed?”
Cole considered the many properties he owned. New York City was far too hectic for the type of getaway he had in mind, the Caribbean ran the risk of a hurricane this time of year, and Paris was a bit too far, not to mention a bit too cliché.
“Vail,” he said after deciding that the secluded home he owned in the Rocky Mountains would be the perfect destination. The weather was obviously too warm for skiing, but Cole almost preferred being in Colorado during the off-season. “Mrs. Grant will be joining me.”
A smile formed on Cole’s lips as he imagined her reaction. She’d no doubt balk at the size of his house and truth be told, the ten thousand square foot wood and glass structure looked more like a lodge than an individual home. But she would also love the rustic setting and the wildlife that not only traipsed through his property but were known to sometimes wander right up to the door.
As anxious as he was to tell her of his plans, Cole decided to wait and share the idea in person. Assuming, of course that she was home from work. If not, he would call her and just pick her up on the way to the airport. Packing was inconsequential, she could buy whatever she needed once they were in Vail. The most important thing was that the two of them got the hell out of Chicago.
Stepping into the elevator, Cole felt confident about his decisions. But twenty-nine floors later he was hit by the cold, hard truth that his relationship with his wife was more than likely over before it even really began. Because although Olivia was indeed home, she was not alone.
Anger enveloped him in a dark haze, yet the sight playing out in front of him was in crystal clear focus. Dr. Derek Hunt had his arms around his wife. Cole’s jaw clenched. In his fucking penthouse. Screw that shit.
The crack in his armor might have remained but the only emotions that penetrated it were rage and resentment. Cole dropped his briefcase on the console table with a little more force than necessary and made his way into the living room. Olivia startled at the sound, but when she turned to look at him her expression wasn’t one of shock or shame. Instead her tear streaked face reflected grief and a profound sadness that stopped Cole dead in his tracks.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“It’s Bucky.” She was barely able to choke out the words. “Just got the call a few minutes ago.”
Fuck. “I’m sorry, Olivia.” The words sounded trite, but Cole truly meant them. Even though he’d only spent two days at the Ramsey farm, it was clear that the yellow lab was far more than a pet. Bucky was family.
“He didn’t suffer. Mama said he just curled up on the porch and went to sleep. She thinks he was waiting for me to come home one last time.”
Derek rubbed her shoulder. “He was a fighter that one.”
Olivia bit back a strangled sob as she buried her head in her ex’s shoulder. Cole watched as Derek stroked her hair. “It’s okay, Livvy. Let it out.”
Cole’s fingers flexed at his sides. At the moment, the urge to go to her was the only instinct stronger than his desire to punch the good doctor square in the face. She was his wife for fuck’s sake. He should be the one consoling her. His should be the arms wrapped around her, not the arms of a man who’d treated her so horribly two years ago.
“Do you want to reschedule dinner?” Derek asked.
Dinner? What the actual fuck? For the first time, Cole realized that Derek was dressed up, relatively speaking. He’d traded in his explorer ensemble for a pair of khaki pants, a blue sport coat, and one of those god-awful knit ties.
“No, I’ll be fine.” Olivia pulled back and wiped her face. “The distraction will do me good, and it will be nice to be with someone who knew him.”
“I was able to get a reservation at Raw.” Derek glanced at his watch. “If we hurry we can still make it.”
Raw? Cole had never heard of the place, but he had no doubt it was some sort of vegan, gluten free, eat-nothing-with-a-face establishment.
“Sounds great.” Olivia managed a half-hearted smile. “Just let me freshen up.” She disappeared down the hallway, leaving the two men in a tense standoff.
Derek shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. At least he had the decency to look slightly ashamed of himself. “So, Livvy explained the situation.”
“She did?” Good, now maybe someone could explain it to him.
“Yeah, that this is all just a front for your inheritance or something?”
“Or something.” Cole tugged at the tie around his neck, loosening the knot. At the moment, the damn thing felt more like a noose than a necktie.
“Hopefully, it all works out.” Derek flashed an uncomfortable grin. “Not too much longer, eh?”
Cole smirked at him but remained silent.
“I realize she can’t start dating until you’ve officially split, you know, for appearances sake. But nothing wrong with life-long friends going out for a meal, am I right?”
Was the prick actually looking for Cole’s blessing?
Derek rocked back on his heels, glancing at the sofa, the view, the paintings—anything not to look Cole in the eye. “Nice place you got here.”
He followed Derek’s gaze. It was like he was seeing his apartment for the first time, but through Olivia’s eyes. She’d been spot-on with her assessment. Cole’s home was a steel and glass castle in the sky, cold and entirely cut off from the rest of the world. But since Olivia had moved in, all that had changed, and for the first time in Cole’s life his house had felt like a home. Although from the way things were looking, that wasn’t going to last for very long.
Cole turned, and his gaze fell to the bouquet of flowers on the glass dining table. Roses. How predictable.
“Oh hey, would you mind putting those in some water after we leave?” Derek said. “Hate for them to wilt if we’re out too late.”
He had to be kidding. And didn’t the dipshit know her favorite flower was lilies? Christ, even Cole knew that. She couldn’t pass the farmers market without picking up a bunch, and even if she didn’t buy them she always stopped to smell them. Cole would have thought Mr. “Life-Long Friends” would have known that.
Olivia emerged from the rear of the penthouse. She’d changed into a skirt and a cardigan sweater. She looked like a fucking school teacher, not the free-spirited woman who roamed his house barefoot most nights. But it wasn’t her outfit that Cole found most upsetting. It was the fact that she wasn’t wearing her ring. Had she been wearing it when he came in? Cole tried to remember, but all he kept picturing was Derek’s hands all over her. She’d definitely been wearing it last night at her apartment, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out when she’d taken it off. What he really wanted to know was if it was before the invitation to dinner or after?
“I guess I’ll see you later?” Olivia said.
“Yeah, maybe. Not sure what time I’ll be back.”
She looked surprised. “You’re going out?”
Of course, he wasn’t going out. He’d planned to be halfway to the airport by now, but he couldn’t exactly tell Olivia that. So instead he said nothing.
“Well, have fun,” she said, reaching for her bag.
Good-byes were said and doors were closed, leaving Cole alone in the cavernous room. He stood there for a few long, quiet moments, trying to figure out how the hell his night had gone so terribly wrong. One thing was certain: There was an ache in his chest unlike any he’d ever felt before. He needed a distraction of epic proportions. Historically, that meant a night with Brittany. Or Chelsea. Or even Amanda.
Cole pulled out his smart phone and opened his contacts. His thumb hovered over the screen as he debated the best way to work off the stress from a night that had very clearly gone to shit. Once he’d made his choice, he placed the call.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Music pumped through the sound system of Cole’s home gym. It wasn’t the top-forty crap they played at those twenty-four hour a day neighborhood joints. No, when Cole needed to clear his mind his workout playlist was hard-core head banger.
Conor dragged himself off the bench to give Cole a turn at shredding his pecs. “When you called, I thought the plan was to go out.” He pulled up the end of his T-shirt and wiped the sweat off his face.
“I said I needed a workout.” Cole cut his eyes at his best friend. “And there are towels for that.”
“Yeah, I know, but I thought we’d hit Equinox,” Conor said, ignoring the jab about his sweat-soaked shirt. “Or even better, East Bank.” His eyes lit up and Cole knew without a doubt his friend was imagining an evening at the country club style gym that stretched the length of a full city block. There was no denying the club’s state-of-the-art perfection. The place offered every type of class and equipment imaginable and with a salon, car wash, dry cleaner, and restaurant, you could easily spend the entire evening there without even breaking a sweat. But that wasn’t the type of evening Cole had in mind. If he had any hope of making it through the night, he needed to pump iron and pound the treadmill until exhaustion quieted his over-thinking brain.
“Not that I object to using your fancy gym, but there’s no drinks at the bar after.” Conor caught his reflection in the mirror and broke into an air guitar rendition of the distorted riff screeching through the overhead
speakers.
Cole sat down on the bench. “There’s a full bar downstairs. Have whatever you want.”
“Okay, let me rephrase, there’s no hot babes to hit on after. You might stock more beers than half the bars in Old Towne, but you are seriously lacking when it comes to twentysomethings in dresses that barely cover their—”
“Yeah, I got it,” Cole interrupted. “I just wasn’t in the mood for that tonight.” Last thing he needed was a dose of the singles scene at East Bank’s rooftop. Besides, he couldn’t exactly tell Conor he was staying in so he could wait for Olivia to get home. Instinctively his eyes darted to the clock. Fucking hell, he was a grade-A pussy. At least he’d managed to keep himself from checking his phone for the hundredth time.
“Oh right, keep forgetting you’re a married man.”
A married man whose wife was out on a date. Cole tugged on the Velcro straps of the fingerless weight-lifting gloves he wore on his hands. “Make yourself useful and throw on another thirty.”
Conor’s brows shot up. “Dude, you got two bucks on there already.”
“Just do it,” Cole shot back. No way Dr. Do-Good could lift two hundred and thirty pounds.
“All right, all right. Chill out.” Conor added the additional iron and tightened the clamps. “Good to go. Hit it.”
Cole lay down on the padded bench. He lifted the bar off the rack, lowered it to rest on his chest, and after huffing out a couple deep breaths, heaved the barbell up and down until his arms were shaking.
Conor watched as he pumped the heavy load. “That’s twelve,” he said, stepping in on the last rep to help settle the bar.
Cole sat up and reached for a towel. Every muscle in his body felt like it was on fire thanks to the beating he was giving them. And for what? To take his mind off Olivia? To win some imaginary weightlifting competition with her ex? Or even worse, was he hoping she’d come home early and catch him mid work out? Cole buried his face in the towel. For fuck’s sake, he was acting like a lovesick teen, pumping iron to make his muscles look bigger to impress a girl.
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