Drawn Through You

by Sarina Rhoads

  They drove the first fifteen miles in silence, making Cole nuts. They needed to talk this weekend. Like really talk, and they were off to a pretty pathetic start.

  “So, that’s a lot of luggage for just a day trip.” He grimaced at his attempt to gauge her willingness to stay. He noticed her squirm slightly in her seat, her hand resting on Jester’s back.

  “Well, my parents are having a little something at their lake house this weekend. They do every year. I thought I should pack just in case I decided to go.”

  “Oh?” Not the words Cole had hoped to hear at all. The silence returned until he made the turn down his driveway and decided to go for broke. “I thought you might like to stay the whole weekend.” He gripped the steering wheel tighter, steeling himself for an adamant refusal. “There is this festival thing tomorrow that I wanted to take you to.” The last suggestion came from pure panic. That the thought of a weekend with just him might move her to jump out of the truck while the wheels were still moving.

  “I’m not so sure I should.” To his relief, her pert ass remained firmly in her seat, but Cole would still need to ponder another course of action to persuade her to stay. “Uh, wow!”

  Cole shot a glance in her direction, finding her mouth agape and eyes wide. He laughed. “Nice, right?” He did not expect any less of a reaction from the senior partner of Jacobson-Wright Contracting, given that she had excellent taste in design.

  He shifted the truck into park right in front of the object of her admiration. The Big House. His father had coined the name for the large log cabin, saying he would do time there for the rest of his life. Only the rest of his life had come too soon for all of them.

  “Is that really yours?” The painful memories ground to a halt.

  “Actually, no.” He tried not to read too deeply into her obvious disappointment. The demons of inadequacy continued lobbing his heart back and forth like a tennis ball, taking their sweet ass time behind strokes. “It’s my mom’s. My father designed and built it just for her.”

  “You live with your mom?”

  The hint of condescension sliced clear through his gut, but Cole kept his tone light and amused. “No. I think I’m a little too old for that. I live in a cottage I converted out of a small machine shed around back.”

  “Oh, shit! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…” Her expression relayed genuine remorse, easing the sting only slightly. “Maybe coming here was a mistake.”

  “No!” Cole shouted his protest, and even Jester sat up in surprise. He cleared his throat and tried once again with less furor. “I mean, don’t worry about it.” He hopped out of the truck, afraid he couldn’t disguise his angst a moment longer.

  He wondered if this really was a mistake of gigantic proportions. How did he expect to convince Shaun otherwise when the cards were stacked against him and he remained guilty of not showing her the hand Robert had dealt him from the beginning? His stubbornness not ready to fold yet, he grabbed both bags from the back of the pickup and began walking the stone path leading toward the backyard.

  Off to the left of his mom’s house, tucked away behind a few red maples, sat his cottage. Home. He paid his mother and Carl rent monthly, against their will, and covered the utilities and extra taxes on top of that.

  Sneaking a look back, he smiled as Shaun walked in his tracks with an appreciative scan while Jester trotted at her feet. Leaving her to her own pace, he entered the cottage and took her bags upstairs to the loft bedroom. When he made his way back down to the main area, she was standing just inside the twin doors, taking everything in.

  “The bedroom is upstairs, along with the bathroom. There’s a small kitchen through that door over there.” He pointed to the open door to the left of the stairs leading up to the loft. “Sorry for the mess. I do most of my work here.”

  Shaun walked over to a hand-carved chaise lounge resting against the far wall and slid her hand over the smooth grain reverently. Cole imagined the feel of her touching him with similar adoration. His cock stiffened in his jeans, forcing Cole to shift his weight from one foot to the other.

  “Wait, where are you sleeping?” She spun around quickly.

  “Well, that depends.” He smirked, not giving up so easily.

  “Depends on what?” She crossed her arms over her chest, and he cursed the thick fabric of the blazer impeding his view of the glorious things that action did for her full breasts.

  “If you’re staying, I’ll be sleeping in my old room next door. Otherwise, there is no need for me to sleep anywhere apart from my bed.” He chanced moving closer, invading her personal space to tuck a curl behind her ear, his hand unable to fight the urge to touch her.

  Shaun licked at her lips. “How about you show me what you asked me here for first?” A test to see if he’d led her here under false pretenses, he imagined. Which he hadn’t. Not completely, at least.

  “Well, you’re caressing one of the pieces right now.” He chose his words carefully, eliciting a favorable response from her parted lips. He let his fingers linger, teasing the sensitive skin beneath her earlobe. She glanced down at the chaise.

  “Is it finished?” she questioned softly.

  “Not yet. I have a friend taking it today to add the upholstery; you just have to pick a color.”

  She shrugged nonchalantly, but Cole felt the warm wisps of air from her elevated breathing against his throat. “I guess I could stay, if it’s not too much trouble.”

  “Good.” He dropped his hand and took a step backward. He’d take this slow. Make her beg him for relief. Even if it killed him in the process. “I’ll give you some time alone to get comfortable. When you’re ready, just come get me next door.” He started for the exit and whistled for Jester. “Come on, boy.”

  The dog whimpered and pressed his snout to the wooden floor of the cottage. One eyebrow lifted and then lowered while the other rose in its place.

  “Jester, you’re making me look bad. Do you mind if he stays?” he asked, wishing he could trade places with the damn dog.

  “Not at all.” She smiled but remained next to the chaise, clutching the back.

  “Thanks. So, I’ll see you whenever you’re ready.” She nodded, and Cole started to leave.

  “Cole?”

  He stopped and turned to face her, apprehensive but hopeful. “Yeah?”

  “Red. A deep cranberry red.” She inclined her chin at the unfinished chaise and smiled.

  “Like the dress you wore at Cask?” Something much like surprise illuminated her features. Cole guessed she hadn’t expected him to remember the dress that had started it all. She gave a small nod.

  “You got it.” Cole grinned and left Shaun behind in his cottage with his dog. A picture of perfection.

  CHAPTER 20

  Cole entered his mother’s kitchen, his ass nearly knocked down by the scent of chili permeating the air. She had spent years perfecting the original recipe she’d created from the ingredients up, using him and Carl as guinea pigs. He even had a small scar on his left knee from where he’d run into a glass table, barely making it to the bathroom in time to upheave his molten-hot guts. A scorched tongue and four stitches later, his mother had decided she might have used too many habaneros. Cole had finally found it in his heart to forgive her, care of three exclusive fruit pies of his choosing.

  His mother searched around him, wiping her hands on the leaf-green apron wrapped around her waist. Her gray-brown hair was tied back in a braid and she wore corn flour fingerprints on her cheeks. She appeared to be nervous.

  “Where is she?”

  Carl, sitting at the breakfast bar in the middle of the country-style kitchen, looked up from his bowl of chili.

  “I told her to take her time coming over,” Cole answered. “With the flight and all, I thought she might need a few minutes to herself.”

  “Oh.” His mother sighed and scrambled over to the double oven, pulling out a fresh batch of her skillet corn bread.

  Cole parked his ass on a stool
across from Carl. A bowl of chili promptly slid into the space in front of him.

  “This is from the judging pot. Give me your worst.”

  His mother had won best chili at the Corn Festival four years in a row and always turned frantic come submission day. She and Carl delivered the fresh pot of chili to the coordinating office the day before the festival, but decisions weren’t finalized until the day of, when everyone piled into the contest pavilion to scavenge samples from some of the best foods in the county.

  “Well?” His mom stared, hands authoritatively planted on her narrow hips. In truth, Cole was still digesting the monster breakfast she’d forced on him earlier. Inhaling a deep breath, hoping the intake of air would shift the contents of his belly and make room, he plunged his spoon into the bowl that was magically wafting up all kinds of goodness his way.

  As expected, the chili was perfect. No contest. “Carl, make room for another trophy.”

  His mother squealed and danced a small, clumsy jig. Cole laughed. He started in for another spoonful in spite of his full stomach and froze when a familiar prickling crept up his spine.

  “Hello?” A nervous voice called out from the living room. All eyes moved to the kitchen entrance, waiting for the new and anticipated arrival.

  Cole gripped his spoon a little too tight, unsure why this meeting had set him on razor edge. Jester trotted in first, nose following the scent of food and the promise of table scraps. The gasp from his mother preempted the audible silence when Shaun entered the kitchen.

  “Sorry I took so long.” She worried her lightly glossed bottom lip between her teeth before attempting to cling to the self-assuredness she didn’t appear to have at the ready.

  “Nothing of it.” His mother met Shaun at once. “I’m Cole’s mom, but please call me Becky.” She pulled his boss into an unexpected hug. Leaning back, she studied her capture more closely. “Oh my, you are positively stunning. Cole, why didn’t you mention how beautiful your boss is?” Cole ran a hand down his face, the heat from embarrassment competing with the heat from his mother’s chili.

  “You’re smothering the poor girl, hun.” Carl left his empty bowl behind and joined his wife in welcoming Shaun to their home. He offered a leathery palm. “I’m Carl, Cole’s stepdad.”

  “I’m not smothering her.” Becky released Shaun and pinched her husband’s bicep. Cole’s stepfather answered with a warm chuckle. “You must be famished, my dear. Sit and let me fix you a bowl of chili.” His mom didn’t give his boss a chance to decline, steering her by the hand onto the stool next to Cole. Knowing his mother would take offense otherwise, he finished his own bowl and dropped his spoon in triumph, although his stomach would argue defeat. “You like chili, right?”

  “Sure.” Shaun nodded wearily, as if she knew it was a life-or-death question within the household.

  “Everything all right with the cottage?” Cole asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin and studying her further.

  “Yes, thank you.” His mother set a square bowl down in front of Shaun, and his boss stared at the heaping mass in quiet horror. He wondered if she’d lied to be polite.

  “That’s award-winning chili right there,” he said.

  “Huh?” she asked, looking slightly panicked.

  Cole gripped his discarded spoon and dove the utensil into her bowl. He held out a small bite for her. “Here. Just a little to get your palate acclimated.” She hesitated, eyes meeting his. He smiled and nodded in reassurance. Shaun opened her mouth and he fed her with care, fighting down the urge to lick the little bit of sauce left on her lips.

  She sat back and moaned with a smile, savoring the bite. He would feed her like this all day long if she wanted him to. The pleasant thought ended when her eyes grew wide and wet. She waved one hand at her open mouth and reached for Cole’s water with the other. Cole quickly broke off a piece from one of the corn biscuits on the table and pushed the pastry between her lips first.

  “That will taper the heat better than the water.” The tip of her tongue grazed the pad of his thumb and she began to chew. Slowly. Cole groaned and wanted to repeat everything from the top. If she’d let him.

  “So?” Cole frowned at his mother’s reminder that there were others in the room.

  Shaun smiled that earth-shaking smile of hers and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Delicious. The best.”

  “Thank you, dear.” His mother preened and strutted around the kitchen with a new flare. Cole felt pride for his mother. He could tell from the expression on Shaun’s face that the sentiment was genuine.

  “Mom’s won at the County Corn Festival four years in a row. She’s going for her fifth.”

  His mother brought over more corn biscuits fresh out of the oven, steam rising off the golden-brown surface.

  “You’re staying for the festival, Shaun? It’d be a shame to miss it. You did tell her about the festival, Cole?”

  Cole glared at his mother. “Yes, I did.”

  “Yes, I am. Thank you.”

  “Cole!” Everyone’s attention pulled at the high-pitched squeal. Cole stood with a wide grin and opened his arms for his sister Lacey to jump into. Wrapping herself around him, she hugged him tight. Her cotton candy perfume overtook every other scent in the kitchen. Pulling back with her legs still circling his waist, Lacey glanced over her shoulder at the stranger on the stool next to them. “Who are you? Cole, who is she?”

  Shaun rose and adjusted her t-shirt. Cole dropped his sister onto her feet. “Squirt, this is Shaun Wright.” Lacey looked his boss up and down, Cole not missing the slight curl of his sister’s upper lip. “Shaun, this is Squirt. I mean, Lacey.” He mussed the messy bun sitting askew on her head. “My little sister.”

  Lacey pushed Cole, but she wasn’t strong enough to move him an inch. “Stop that! And stop calling me ‘Squirt.’”

  “Nice to meet you.” Shaun dipped her head politely, not trusting enough to shake hands with his sister. He didn’t blame her, considering the puss on his sibling’s face.

  “This? This is the boss you’ve been yapping about?”

  He felt the scrutiny of Shaun’s gaze on him. Lacey was just acting like an asshole. She hated surrendering the crown of attention, and with someone as beautiful as Shaun, the loss was inevitable.

  “Yeah, so quit it before you get me fired.” He poked her playfully in the ribs, hoping she would take the hint and cut her shit out.

  “Like Uncle Rob would let that happen.” She laughed and hugged Cole once more. Lacey remained in the dark about how much of a slime ball Robert really was. She was too young to have understood the situation with the lumber company, and his uncle made sure to lavish her with expensive gifts and secure his only ally. “I thought we’d be able to talk this weekend. I really need to talk to you.” She shifted her eyes to Shaun and then back to Cole.

  He rubbed her upper arms. “We can and we will.”

  Lacey gave an exaggerated sigh after swatting his hands away, and then grabbed one of the corn biscuits off the table. “I guess I’ll go shower.” She patted Jester on the head. With the dog’s eyes trained on the biscuit, she sauntered out of the kitchen the way she’d come, not acknowledging their mom’s or Carl’s presences.

  His mother cleared her throat and forced a smile that Cole saw right through. “I’m sorry about her behavior, Shaun. She seems to be suffering from a horrible case of the teens.” Cole knew that part of the problem was his absence: since he wasn’t around to keep his sister’s attitude in check, Lacey made sure to take advantage of the freedom. Becky started to clean up the kitchen, getting ready to take the chili to the fairgrounds. Carl gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze of consolation.

  Cole could tell that Shaun felt awkward about being there when shit seemed a little out of hand. He walked over to his mom, now loading the dishwasher, and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll take care of it. I promise.” His mom rested her hand on his jaw, and this time the smile reached her eyes. He winked back and looked over at Shaun. �
�Let me show you some more of what I have in mind for your loft. Let’s go out this way.” He pointed toward the open glass doors that led out to the backyard. Jester saw Cole point and knew exactly what that meant, bounding outside in search of a baseball.

  “Thank you again, Becky. The chili was really, really good.” Shaun had barely had a chance to eat.

  “You’re welcome, dear. It’s truly a pleasure to have you here.”

  Three days. Cole had only three days to set the wheels of his plan in motion, and his sister appeared hell bent on throwing a wrench in the fucking gears. They might end up hating him before the weekend came to a close, but he’d have time to smooth things over with them. In contrast, his chance for redemption with Shaun only grew slimmer by the second.

  CHAPTER 21

  “I only need to make a phone call and then get a ride to the airport.”

  Cole reached down and scooped up one of Jester’s baseballs. “Wait, what?” Confused by her suggestion, he tossed the ball horribly, and Jester sped off in pursuit, nearly taking out his legs in the process.

  Cole turned and studied Shaun. The sight of her exiting the plane while he’d waited beside his truck earlier remained a permanent highlight in his memory reel. He didn’t know any woman who made everything she wore look so elegant and so goddamn sexy the way Shaun did. A gentle breeze lifted up a chestnut tendril of hair. Taunting. Teasing his fingers for a touch.

  “I don’t want to get in the way.” Her voice trailed off as if she had more to say but had decided against it.

  “In the way?” He sighed, realizing the cause of her visible anguish. “Lacey is just being a brat.” He inched closer. “I wish Carl and my mom weren’t so easy on her. She likes to push the boundaries, especially with me not around. But after a talk, she usually knocks off her bullshit.”