by Amy Knupp
Hayden picked up her coffee cup and held it in both hands as she studied her. “You’re going to have to rein it in then,” she said after a few seconds.
“Rein what in?” Sierra frowned.
“Rein your Sierra in. Turn your overzealousness off.”
“I’m not overzealous.”
“You’re not patient, and this one’s going to require patience.”
Sierra’s scowl deepened. “I can be patient.”
“You’re excited to see him, right?”
Of course she couldn’t wait to lay her eyes on him, but she wasn’t stupid. “I’m not going to jump him.”
“And no flirting,” Hayden said authoritatively. “No anything out of the ordinary if you don’t want your whole crew figuring it out. That was one of the issues, right?”
Sierra set her mug down and exhaled. “You’re no fun.”
“If you’re cool with everybody knowing, then—”
“I won’t flirt. I won’t give him special attention. I’ll try not to look at him.” She knew she would look at him, probably a lot. But she also recognized Hayden was right. Work today would be challenging enough as they painted the interior and prepped for the floors. Acting like there was nothing between her and Cole… She was sleep-deprived, had only drunk a single cup of coffee, and her hormones were stuck in the on position. And yet she couldn’t help wondering what the chances were for a redo with Cole tonight.
“If you don’t want to scare him away, you need to play it cool, even in private,” Hayden dictated.
Sierra wanted to growl at her, wanted to argue, wanted to do anything but play it cool with Cole…but she suspected her friend’s advice was legit. Problem was, she wasn’t sure if she could play it cool.
Chapter Twenty-One
After an extra-long day at work, Cole needed two things—a shower and a drink, in that order.
Tito greeted him at the door of his apartment and trailed him into the bedroom, raising hell the whole way. Cole shed his clothes and tossed them in the laundry basket in his closet, then went into the attached bathroom, the cat zipping in in front of him.
“Rough day at the office?” Cole asked Tito, who jumped up onto the bathroom vanity and sat pear-shaped on the corner. He rubbed the cat’s ears, noted he was purring.
A few minutes later, Cole was clean, his hair was mostly dry thanks to its shortness, Tito was tearing into some beef paté, and an overpowering need to go see Sierra jabbed at Cole. He refused to give in. If he showed up at her place tonight, it’d set a precedent. If he couldn’t stay away for one goddamn night, he was screwed.
He would stay away. It was just going to take some distractions.
While Tito was still absorbed in his food bowl, Cole walked out the door and back down the stairs to Sunshine’s.
All day, he’d been taunted by thoughts of last night, from the way she’d so willingly come to him on the balcony to the sounds she’d made when she came apart to the feel of her hair cascading over his chest, his arms, everywhere. All of it was imprinted in his brain, the memories visceral, unrelenting.
Work had been a mind fuck. While the rest of the crew had painted, he and Sierra had prepped for laying the floors, which would be a multi-day project. On the outside, it would’ve looked like any other day between them, with them working as a team, problem solving, ensuring that the appropriate materials were in each room, the tile saw ready to go in the garage. But beneath the surface, it was anything but usual. His mind had played an all-day game of what-if. What if I guided her into that closet and kissed her till she couldn’t remember her name? What if I lowered her onto that waist-high pallet of boxed ceramic tile and made her come with my fingers? What if I propped her up on that oversized bathroom vanity and unleashed my tongue on her?
All the while, they’d kept their discussion professional and work-related. He was grateful for that and yet he hated it. The only hint that he hadn’t dreamed up the night before was a single moment when, after they’d carried the last of the wood floor planks to the living room, she’d touched him, given his biceps a seemingly nonchalant squeeze as she peered up at him with a flash of heat in her eyes. There was technically nothing sexual about the gesture, and some people wouldn’t even have registered it as being out of character, but Sierra didn’t touch her crew, ever. And the look in her eyes, as if she wanted him to do all the things he’d been fantasizing about the entire damn day… He’d had to lie and tell her he had to take a break to call his mom, just to give him an excuse to go sit in his truck, away from her, and get his mental shit together.
“Hi, handsome,” Winona said as he sat on his usual stool, second from the right end, in the dingy, dim tavern. “How’s your mom doing?” She asked it every time he saw her, like a mother figure herself.
“We got her home last night. It wore her out but she’s happy to be home.”
“Good.” Winona slid a tall mug of cold beer to him. “Food?”
“Usual.”
“Got it.” She disappeared into her kitchen, and Cole noted the place was fuller than normal, which meant close to two dozen patrons needing to drown the Monday blues. Across the way, at a table near the wall, was a trio of women, good-looking, dressed for an evening out, and blatantly eyeing him. For about two seconds, he pondered the possibility of taking one of them to bed to get Sierra out of his head, but if he was honest, he had zero interest in any of them. He wanted to be interested. Wanted to think about anything but his brown-eyed beauty…
Not his.
Hell. If it was tough to keep his mind off of her at work, it was nearly impossible now, with nothing to occupy him but a mug of beer.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out to find a group text message from Gabe to him, Mason, and Drake.
Aunt Liz says Mom did well today, did some walking around the house, ate well, was in a good mood. Miranda is there now, playing Scrabble with her.
Drake replied, Don’t know who I’m more afraid for, Miranda or Mom.
Both their cousin and their mom were cut-throat Scrabble players. Cole and his brothers had stopped playing the game with their mom years ago because no one could beat her. Miranda could and did frequently.
Mom should be able to sleep well post word battle, Mason texted.
Though Cole didn’t have anything to add—he wasn’t one for extraneous conversation—the distraction was welcome, and it got him thinking.
He opened a new message window on his phone, this one going only to Mason.
You busy? he typed.
Trying to finish at the office. What’s up?
Cole paused before sending the next message, debating with himself. He hadn’t planned any of this, had mostly written off the mention of working for North Brothers. Mostly. But he wasn’t sure how he could continue to work side by side with Sierra when he wanted her so badly he walked around with a semi all day. Wasn’t sure if that need would ever go away.
You eat yet? Cole asked.
Planning to grab something on my way home.
You familiar with Sunshine’s?
Never heard of it.
Of course he hadn’t heard of it. It wasn’t the type of place his designer-suit-wearing, R8-driving CEO brother would ever step foot in. As Cole had never invited Mason to his apartment, his brother had no familiarity with Cole’s part of town.
Cole grinned to himself, getting a twisted sort of pleasure from the thought of Mason walking into this place he absolutely didn’t belong.
Little place on Galveston Avenue, Cole typed. Stop by for a drink or a sandwich, my treat. Got some questions for you.
There was a pause for a minute or two, probably as Mason reeled in his shock at Cole’s invitation. First time for everything, Cole figured. He really didn’t want to sit here alone all evening, thinking about the woman he shouldn’t have. And his questions were legit.
Twenty-two-hundred block? Mason finally texted, and Cole imagined him searching on his phone for the Sunshine�
�s address.
Yep.
Be there in twenty, Mason texted.
When Mason walked in the door, Cole had finished his beef and cheddar and was on his second beer. When Gabe followed directly behind Mason, Cole did a double take. Of course, they were both wearing suits, which made Cole glance at the stools next to him to make sure they were clean.
“Sweet mother of God,” Winona muttered to herself when she saw them. “Do not pick a fight with them,” she instructed Cole.
Cole hid a grin, realizing she had no idea who they were. “I could take ’em both at once.” He hadn’t done it for more than a decade, but he knew his pretty-boy brothers honed their muscles in the gym for a couple of hours a week, not as part of a forty-plus-hour job.
“Don’t you dare.”
His brothers spotted him, and as they made their way toward him, he downed several gulps of beer. This conversation wasn’t going to be comfortable, but as he’d sat here for twenty-some minutes thinking things through as he waited, he knew he needed to gather info.
“Hey, Cole,” Mason said, unbuttoning his jacket and sitting on the stool to the left.
Gabe gave Cole a friendly smack on the back as he took the stool to Cole’s right.
Cole looked pointedly at his Timex. “Four minutes late,” he said to Mason, trying to keep the corner of his lips from lifting. “Losing your touch.”
“I had to park a block away,” Mason said dismissively, but Cole suspected, deep inside, he was pissed at the blemish on his early-to-on-time record.
When Cole turned his gaze to Winona, he caught her with her mouth literally hanging open and her eyes narrowed, and that brought out an honest-to-God laugh from him.
“Winona,” he said formally, “meet Mason, my oldest brother, and Gabe, second oldest. This is Winona James, owner of Sunshine’s and my apartment upstairs.”
She shook both their offered hands, and Cole swore he’d never, ever seen her unable to speak as she was now. He knew his brothers, tall and, he supposed, good-looking, made an impression in their monkey suits, especially in contrast to the Sunshine’s clientele, but he was starting to wonder if she was having a stroke or some other medical emergency.
“You okay?” he asked her, knowing that, as long as she didn’t actually keel over, he was going to give her shit about this for years to come.
“These are your brothers,” she stated stupidly. “The North brothers.” She tilted her head suddenly, the crinkles at the corners of her eyes and in her forehead deepening, as if a realization had hit her. “North brothers,” she repeated, eyeing them, then Cole, then them again.
If Cole were nicer, he’d help her out, but nice was something he’d never been accused of.
“You don’t have anything to do with North Brothers Sports, do you?” she asked suspiciously.
“Guilty as charged,” Mason said with a charming smile he must practice in front of the mirror.
“Our dad is one of the original North Brothers,” Gabe added, and Cole had to work not to roll his eyes out of habit. He needed to break that habit.
Winona glared at Cole, accusation in her eyes. “This one never mentioned it.”
“Now you know,” Cole said unapologetically. “Maybe they’re thirsty?”
After a last second of pronounced glare, Winona asked his brothers for their drink orders and handed them the single-sided, nonlaminated paper menu of sandwich fixings. As soon as she’d slid bottles of beer to each of them, she disappeared into the back to make their requested sandwiches.
“You spend a lot of time here,” Gabe said, not in question form.
“It’s like having a personal chef,” Cole said.
“So you said you have questions,” Mason said, ever the down-to-business guy. “What’s up?”
Cole finished off his beer and shoved the mug toward Winona’s side of the counter so she could refill it when she came back in. That she hadn’t already replaced it proved that his brothers had her off her game.
He reminded himself he was only collecting info, not giving in. Keeping his gaze straight ahead at the wall of liquor behind the bar, he tapped his fingers on the counter, wishing he had his mug back to fidget with. “If I were interested in working for the family biz, what would you have me do?”
“It’s like I told you the other day—whatever you want,” Mason said.
Cole frowned, shook his head. “That sounds good and all, but let’s be real. You can’t just hire me to make nice. It needs to make financial sense. Am I wrong?”
“You’re not wrong,” Gabe said, “but I think what Mason’s trying to say is that we can find something that will make you happy while benefitting the company.”
“Like what?” Cole persisted. He was far from being convinced that there was even anything for him to consider.
“You have an analytical mind,” Mason said, and Cole couldn’t argue. “You like what you’re doing now? I mean, beyond working for Sierra?”
“I do. I like being active, working with my hands. Can’t imagine being stuck in a suit or at a desk all day, so I’m not sure there’s anything at North for me.”
“It wouldn’t have to be in the corporate office necessarily,” Gabe said.
“I’m not going to work retail like Drake.” No fucking way.
“It wouldn’t have to be retail,” Mason said, his cool blue eyes narrowed in thought.
Gabe leaned forward and addressed Mason. “What do you have in mind? I can tell something’s brewing,” he asked as Winona reappeared, plates heaped full with double-decker sandwiches and chips in hand.
Cole nodded at Winona when she raised her penciled-in brows to ask if he wanted another beer.
“We’re looking at expansion,” Mason said once Winona headed out to the tables to wipe off some recently vacated ones. His voice was quiet but firm, telling Cole this might not be common knowledge yet. “Major expansion,” he said. “It’s an aggressive undertaking, with new stores throughout the region, not just in state.”
That was the first Cole had heard of plans to expand beyond Tennessee, not that they’d have reason to tell him. He took it to mean the company was doing well.
“We’re working on the first few locations, securing properties. If things work out, there’s going to be remodeling involved. Branding of each location from the ground up is vital, from layout to building materials. That’s something the CEO oversaw in the past, but that was one store at a time, and it was before the company was so large.”
“Cole would be a perfect fit,” Gabe said, nodding thoughtfully as he shoved a chip in his mouth and chewed.
“Would this position call for a suit or a tool belt?” Cole asked, intrigued but cautious.
“Not a suit,” Mason said. “Maybe not a tool belt either. I envision you working closely with the contractors at each site to ensure they do things our way, overseeing quality, branding, and budgeting.”
“And timeline,” Gabe added.
“Definitely timeline.” Mason nodded pensively as he paused with his beer raised halfway to his mouth. “We’ll need to hammer out the details—”
“Don’t get overeager,” Cole said. “I was only asking about possibilities. I’m not ready to change jobs.” If he didn’t put the brakes on, Mason would have him hired before walking out of the bar tonight.
That wasn’t what he wanted. He wasn’t sure what he wanted professionally. He needed time to consider, needed his brothers to give it more thought as well, because leaving Dunn & Lowell… He couldn’t do that on a whim. Couldn’t do that to Sierra without good reason.
As he imagined not being with her for eight to ten hours a day… Hell, he wasn’t sure if he could do it at all.
He steered the conversation to baseball and the World Series fallout, effectively ending talk of a job change for now.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Wednesday evening, Sierra triple-checked the reflective black address numbers above the solid-looking wood door right next to Sunshine’s,
a bar she’d never in her life heard of that looked anything but bright and cheery. More like dark and eerie and potentially a bad decision.
Her misgivings started before she even climbed out of her truck. Maybe she shouldn’t have come. Maybe she should’ve done what a normal person would do and texted Cole the news. Or even asked him to her place. He’d never given her his address, not on a social basis, and she’d had to look it up in his personnel records. It was a bad idea, and maybe he’d see it as crossing yet another ill-advised line. But she couldn’t deny a burning curiosity about where he lived.
It’d been three days since their night together. Three long, torturous workdays of acting professional, keeping her hands to herself, catching him looking at her like he wanted to devour her. The sexual energy between them was tangible, and if none of her other employees had caught on, it was act-of-God miracle level. But she’d managed to keep herself in check and “play it cool.”
Playing it cool sucked, and there was no question in her mind she was using her good news from the Eldridge contest as an excuse to see Cole somewhere besides the office or jobsite. Did she mention she’d made it three full days?
“I’m going in,” she said out loud to no one. She got out of the truck and went to the wooden door. Inside, she found a barren concrete stairway going up and not much else, so she climbed. The single door at the top wasn’t marked. Without giving herself more time to doubt her actions, she knocked.
She heard footsteps and felt someone peering through the peephole at her, and then the knob turned and her heart pounded as the door seemed to open in slow motion. And then there he was, the man she’d had on her mind nonstop, standing in all his glory. Half-naked glory, as the only thing he had on was a pair of faded jeans. She’d run her hands over the stacks of muscles and the valleys between in the near dark the other night, but that had nothing on seeing his sculpted body in the cozy, warm light of his apartment.
“Hi,” she said, tearing her gaze from his torso to take in the upward quirk of one side of his mouth, the five-o’clock shadow on his jaw, the glint of heat in his eyes that told her maybe he was happy to see her too.