Shelter

by Stephanie Fournet

  I had my Elise back, and I’d be damned if I ever let her go.

  Chapter 25

  ELISE

  “You two are being awfully quiet.”

  At the sound of Ava’s voice from the kitchen, I nearly jumped out of my skin. I’d pretty much forgotten she was there. Honestly, I’d pretty much forgotten everything but the feel of Cole’s hand and the force of his gaze.

  Only a minute had passed. Or maybe it was an hour. How was I supposed to know? I was pretty sure I was hypnotized.

  I moved to release Cole’s hand and return to the kitchen to help Ava, but his grip tightened around mine.

  “No,” he said softly. It wasn’t a plea or a command, but something in between. Something I could not ignore. Somehow, in the time we’d sat together here in his living room, Cole and I had created a little bubble of space and time. A world all our own. I could see in his eyes he didn’t want to leave it.

  I didn’t either. But…

  “We can’t ignore her,” I whispered.

  “Fine,” Cole whispered back with the slightest shrug. “But I’m not done holding your hand.”

  My smile was a force of nature. As unstoppable as an avalanche or an earthquake. “O-kay,” I laughed gently.

  “And now you’re laughing,” Ava narrated from the kitchen. I covered my face with my free hand, torn between amusement and mortification. If she saw us like this, she’d start singing that damn song again.

  “We’re enjoying each other’s company,” Cole said, looking back at her over his shoulder and grinning.

  I glanced back at Ava too, just in time to see a sly smile form on her lips before she gave us her back and moved to one of the cabinets.

  “Coffee’s ready,” she said. “Elise, how do you take yours?”

  “Cream and sugar,” I answered.

  “A lot of sugar, if memory serves,” Cole added.

  I frowned at him. “What makes you say that?”

  The devil himself couldn’t have managed a naughtier smile. “Elise, don’t try to deny it. You’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

  I tried to scoff. I really did. But then I remembered trick-or-treating with him and Ava. The Great Candy Swap of 1998.

  “I don’t remember you skipping dessert when we were kids either,” I teased. “How do you take your coffee?”

  He dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, and I was certain this was to keep his smile under control. The way the muscles in his cheeks firmed could have meant nothing else. But the sight of his teeth on the flesh of that lip was entirely too distracting. I almost reached up to free it to get some relief.

  “Just a little cream,” he said finally.

  “No sugar? Then what’s the point?”

  Cole tipped his head back and laughed recklessly. I swear, it felt like a shower of good fortune. His hand pivoted over mine, and he interlaced our fingers, squeezing mine as he did.

  “I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you,” he said.

  His words knocked me off balance because they mirrored my exact thoughts.

  I squeezed his hand back, unable to do anything else. And then Ava came to my rescue, setting down a tray of coffee and brownies.

  Cole released my hand, but he edged closer to me.

  “Here you go,” Ava murmured, placing the lightest coffee in front of me and the darkest before Cole. She nodded toward my cup. “Is it okay?”

  I lifted it to my lips, blew over the surface, and sipped. “Mmm…” It was sweet. Sweeter than I usually made it, but better, too. “Perfect.”

  “Out of curiosity,” Cole began, feigning a frown at Ava. “How many sugar cubes did you use?”

  I shook my head. “Don’t tell him.” It was more than three. I usually took three, and this was deliciously sweeter.

  “Two?” Cole asked his sister.

  She lifted her coffee and blew on it, saying nothing.

  “Three?” he asked, his eyebrows peaking. He glanced at me, and I took another sip of my sinful cup.

  “Don’t tell me you used four sugars,” he said, searching Ava’s face for a tell.

  She shook her head. “I didn’t.” Then she took a sip of her coffee and cleared her throat. “I used five.”

  “Ava!”

  At my outburst, Cole fell apart again, laughing like I’d only seen him laugh a handful of times. Judging by the wistful look on Ava’s face as she watched him, the scene was a rare one for her too. I quickly overcame my embarrassment. Cole could laugh at my sweet tooth whenever he wanted.

  “Here.” Chuckling, he leaned forward and handed me a plate bearing a sizeable brownie. “Ava sold you out, but this should make you feel better.”

  I rolled my eyes at him, forcing him to smother another fit of laughter, but he wasn’t wrong. The brownie was excellent consolation.

  An hour later, the three of us may as well have melted into the couch cushions. I was more comfortable right there in Cole and Ava’s living room than I’d felt in my own bed the last week. The air had been cleared between us. The anger and hurt I’d carried over Cole’s rejection and radio silence had faded, like a bruise. It was still a tender spot, surely, but no longer the open wound or even the scar it had once been. We could meet the future as friends again. Of this, I was sure.

  But I couldn’t let myself think of having more with Cole. Even after just a few hours in his company, I wanted that too much, and when it came to Cole, wanting more was dangerous territory.

  So, when Ava finally stood to clear the dessert dishes, I started to rise with her. “Thank you so much for having me ov—”

  “No, no.” Ava shushed me. “You stay put.”

  At the same moment, Cole reached for my hand again and anchored it to the cushion between us. “You’re leaving already?” he asked, wearing a slight frown. To anyone else — even to Ava who’d moved behind us toward the kitchen — his words and expression could have marked the token protest of any practiced host, but the strength and heat in his grip spoke to me alone.

  Cole did not want me to leave.

  “Um… y-yeah,” I stammered, his touch reordering my thoughts and spiral-slicing my language skills.

  “But it’s not even nine-thirty.” He sounded so casual, so polite, but he squeezed my hand. Our eyes locked, and he held my gaze, unblinking. “Do you have work tomorrow?”

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. “No, I don’t have work tomorrow.”

  “Do you have to set up your jewelry booth for the farmer’s market?” he pressed, his frown deepening.

  I shook my head. “No, it’s not my weekend.”

  His starlight blue eyes lit with mischief. “Then why don’t you stay a little longer?”

  I glanced over my shoulder at Ava, but she was no help. She turned on the faucet, her arched expression saying something like “See what I mean?”

  And I didn’t want to leave. It was as simple as that. I sunk back into the cushions. “Okay.”

  Cole leaned back too, wearing a look of relief. “I told you I wasn’t finished holding your hand,” he murmured only softly enough for me to hear.

  The water in the kitchen shut off before the gentle whir of the dishwasher filled the room. “I’ll be right back, guys.” Ava said. And then she was gone.

  Sudden shyness overtook me as Cole locked his gaze with mine. When his thumb caressed the back of my hand, the fine hairs on my arm stood at attention. I read a thousand questions behind his eyes.

  “What?” I asked, out of breath for no reason at all.

  For a moment, he was silent.

  “Am I pushing my luck?” he whispered.

  I blinked. “Wh-what do you mean?”

  He tilted his chin back and forth between us and clasped my hand tighter. “This. Trying to get close to you.”

  A nervous joy fizzed inside me. “No,” I managed, but the word was barely audible.

  He watched me for a moment, and then his focus fell to my lips. My lungs filled with the cruelest anticipation. A r
ush of déjà vu crowded my head. I remembered that long ago morning — leaning in and surprising him with my kiss — as if it was yesterday.

  The need. The heady rush of my own recklessness. The clean, male scent of his skin.

  It was just the same. I needed to pull back. Ava would walk in any second. Maybe I could get some air. A glass of water. I wet my lips with the tip of my tongue, and in that instant, I saw Cole’s pupils dilate.

  Then his mouth was on mine. And time stopped.

  I sucked in a startled breath at the feel of his firm, silken lips. But the touch of his mouth, even in those few seconds, was not enough. My hands broke free of his and caught his face, his stubble a welcome rasp against my palms. I pulled him into me just as I felt one arm close low around my back, and then a hand cradling my head.

  Cole shifted, tilting my head back, and as though the instinct were written in my bones, I opened for him. A mingled sound of satisfaction and suffering rose from his throat, pulling a higher-pitched echo from my own. His kiss was searching, all heat and hunger. And the long-lost taste of him — pure and unmistakably Cole — made me want to weep. I would have known him by his kiss alone.

  My tongue came alive at this reunion, stroking his, tangling with it, and finally venturing into the hot well of his mouth. At my invasion, his hands roamed over me, pulling me against him. The hand at the back of my neck swept forward before fingertips traced my cheek. The one at my back ranging up my spine and charting me rib to rib.

  My entire body felt as if it was made of tiny windchimes. Each of his touches resonated down my every sinew in a tingling song. I was mad for him. Ravenous for him. As if I’d been starving forever. I barely recognized myself, and yet, in his embrace, I felt more myself — more me — than I had in years.

  If he got up and walked away from me now, I’d be ruined.

  That thought splashed like ice water, and I stilled. Breaking the kiss, I pushed myself away.

  “Hang on,” I said, catching my breath, closing my eyes.

  I heard Cole exhale three times.

  Then his thumb caressed my cheek. “Elise,” he whispered. “Look at me.”

  I opened my eyes and found worry etched in his. He was watching me so closely, I felt exposed. See-through.

  “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said.

  I let go a breath. No way. How could I tell him how much letting my guard down with him terrified me? I shook my head. “I can’t. Tell me what you’re thinking instead.”

  Those firm, silken lips I wanted to kiss again shaped into a half-smile. “I’m thinking about nine different things.”

  “Like?”

  He ran his thumb over my cheek again. The temptation to close my eyes and lean into his caress was a real threat.

  “Like I’m wondering how badly I just freaked you out… And I’m asking myself if it’s possible that kiss didn’t just feel as amazing for you as it did for me.” His expression was so open and vulnerable, I found enough courage to respond.

  “I’m pretty freaked out. But, no. It’s not possible.” I swallowed and went there. “It was… heaven.”

  Cole’s nostrils flared as his chest rose. “Thank Christ,” he breathed. Then he shook himself. “But why are you freaked out?”

  “Cole.” I spoke his name as though the answer should be obvious, but I sure as hell couldn’t say it aloud. I’d sound like an idiot if I told him how afraid I was he’d disappear on me again. I had no right to feel this way. He owed me nothing. “Maybe we should call it a ni—”

  He moved his hands to my shoulders. “Wait. Can we try something first?”

  I stilled, my heart stuttering. “Try something?”

  He nodded, and one hand left my shoulder. Cole patted his chest. I swear, the beseeching look in his eyes sliced me right open. “Come here.”

  My breath left me so quickly I didn’t know how I kept it from sounding like a sob. I hesitated for only a moment, but as soon as I angled toward him, Cole crushed me against his chest, wrapping his arms tight around me.

  And. It. Felt. So. Damn. Good.

  With my ear pressed to him, I heard and felt his sigh. Tucked under his chin, I closed my eyes as he moved his mouth to the top of my head, kissing me there. His breath tickled my hair, and I shook with my own sigh.

  “I’m still me, Elise.”

  I squeezed my eyes shut. I wanted to believe him. He was the only man who’d ever made me feel like he knew me. Like I was worth knowing. Nothing else in the world felt like that, and I’d chased after that feeling with every guy I’d dated or crushed on since him. No one else had even come close.

  But Cole was also the person who’d left me without so much as a backward glance. And, yeah, I knew he had his reasons. They were reasons I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Certainly not him. But just like I’d never been able to forget how good he’d made me feel that night, I didn’t know if I could forget the way it had felt when he left.

  “I’m still me,” he said again, the flat of his hand smoothing up my back. “And I’m right here.”

  His latest words pulled another sigh from me. He was here. In the flesh. Holding me in his arms and asking me to stay. I couldn’t deny it wasn’t what I’d always wanted. Even after I told myself I shouldn’t want it.

  I spread my fingers against his chest, loving the warm realness of him while I still debated leaving. “As good as this feels…” I was glad I didn’t have to look him in the eye to say what I needed to say. “…I don’t know if I can trust it.”

  One of Cole’s hands slid up my back and over my shoulder to catch me under the chin. He tilted my face up until those startling blue eyes pinned me with all their force.

  “Trust me, you mean.” Regret furrowed his brow, and I wanted so much just to smooth it, but how could I reassure him when I was anything but reassured?

  “Maybe if you just give me some time—“

  Cole gave one, firm shake of his head. “I honestly think that’s the last thing we need.”

  I choked on a startled laugh. “What?”

  He pulled me closer to him. “I don’t need more time to know that I want to be with you. I’ve always known. I want you to stay with me tonight.” His voice seemed to pour through me, warming me in places deep and aching. “Stay with me the whole weekend, and then tell me you don’t trust me.”

  My jaw dropped. “Cole, that’s insane.”

  “I know.” He nodded, and the look he wore told me he did. “But it’s also right.”

  “H-how can it be right?” My heartbeat quickened, unsure if it should fight for what it wanted or flee from what it feared.

  I watched Cole swallow. “Because for the last eight years, I’ve listened to my head. I’ve planned out every course. I’ve calculated risks. I’ve tried to think my way out of every problem.” His eyes blazed with feeling. “It’s what led me into a thousand mistakes with Ava. I thought I could reason with her. Reason our way out of her pain. It was the same with my mother…”

  His voice choked off as his gaze drifted down between us. Pain, ages old, ravaged his beautiful face.

  It killed me.

  “You can’t blame yourself. Not for what happened to either of them.”

  His world-weary brow lifted. “Can’t I?”

  Now my hands sought his cheeks. My lips pressed the gentlest of kisses to his forehead. I held them there, willing comfort into him.

  “You can’t,” I whispered. “None of that was your fault.”

  He clasped his hands around my wrists, keeping my hands against his warm face. “If I would have listened to the beast in my heart, I would have kidnapped my mother.” He spoke without blinking, peering so intently into my eyes, as if he was confessing. “Not hours before my father had a chance to kill her — but years. If I would have listened to the child in my heart, I would have understood that what Ava needed most after our parents were gone was to come home.”

  I watched him swallow. His chest rose and fell. “My voice of reason,
that bastard, is telling me to give you your space. But my heart…” He licked his lips, and my gaze fell to his mouth, hanging on his every word. “My heart is telling me not to let you out of my sight.”

  And when he said that, I never wanted to leave his sight. Where else would be better? I didn’t just kiss him. I crashed into him. Hell, it might have even hurt, but I was terrified. And I was on fire. And it felt like some fickle force in the universe would have exacted revenge if I dared to walk away from him now.

  Not that I could.

  I kissed Cole with everything I had and then some. I wanted him with me. Around me. On me. In me. And I felt like I’d done all the waiting I’d ever be able to do.

  Chapter 26

  COLE

  The heat of her mouth was all I knew for a long, drunken moment. I lapped… savored… explored… worshipped. I wanted to taste my fill, but I knew that might take decades. Now that I had cast aside all reason, all temperance, the rest of my control gave way. Because this was her kiss, freely given to me. It was forgiveness and welcome and conflagration all at once.

  I burned for her. From head to toe my body was aflame, and the places we touched — her breasts pressed against me, her slender torso in the circle of my arms, the tangle of her hair through my fingers — blazed like a wildfire.

  In this kiss, her kiss, I had the sudden and holy notion that my life was being given back to me. And I wanted to claim it.

  At the edges of my mind, I knew exactly where we were — on the couch in my new home. A home I shared with my sister. And I knew that my Elise would suffocate in shame if Ava found us this way. Hooking one arm beneath her knees and keeping the other low along her back, I stood with her, cradling her against my chest.

  The protest I knew she’d raise broke between our lips. “Mmm… wh-what are you doing?” she murmured, and I gave thanks her words sounded as lazy and soaked in bliss as my own thoughts.

  I cleared the L of the sectional before whispering. “Stealing you.”

  A giggle escaped her lips before I claimed them again, but then her spine stiffened in my arms. “But Ava—” she gasped.