by Kyra Jacobs
“Trouble?” She shook her head. “No. Actually, I came to—”
“Deliver something.” Cole’s voice was unusually icy. “Grandpa, could you excuse us for a moment?”
Old Tom looked to him in surprise, then shook his head with a chuckle. “Kicked out of my own office. Never thought I’d see the day.”
He trudged off, coffee in hand and a smile on his face. Well, at least one of the Granvilles was in a good mood today. Too bad for her it seemed to be the wrong one. The minute Tom closed the door, Cole spoke up.
“All right, let’s get this over with.”
Maddie swallowed hard. The guy was rather intimidating when he was ticked.
“Well, good morning to you, too.”
His eyes narrowed. Dang, did he have to make this so hard on her? Apologies weren’t exactly her specialty.
Food, however, was.
She reached into her shoulder bag. “I, uh, brought you something.”
“Great. Let me guess: it’s pink, and—”
“Pink? Wow, I sure hope not.” She produced the small plastic container stuffed with her nearly world-famous monkey bread and held it out to him. “Though, that’s a great idea for the next time I get hired to cater a baby shower.”
Cole took the container and stared at it in silence for a long moment. “This…is why you came by?”
“No.” Maddie wrung her hands together. “I came by to apologize. For the way I treated you last night. I knew it wasn’t your fault, my sleeve getting caught like that, but you were the easiest scapegoat. That whole laundry episode brought back some really bad childhood memories—I, uh, got picked on a lot—and, well, I lost my cool.” She swallowed hard, the rest of her apology coming out at barely more than a whisper. “I just hope you can forgive me.”
He looked up, a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his brows. “You mean…you didn’t come here to fire me?”
“Fire you?” She blew out the breath she’d been holding in a rush. “For what, caring too much about my well-being?”
Ever so slowly, Cole’s trademark crooked grin tugged at his perfect lips.
“Though,” she added. “If you ever suggest I drop something again, don’t be surprised if I don’t.”
“So…we’re good?”
Good? He might be. She, however, felt rather tortured standing so close to all his hunky handsomeness. Maybe she should have fired him and let Sarah come back, just to get her libido under control. Then again, spikes in her hormones might actually get her to speak up and ask Tyson to that stupid gala. She took a step back to give her a little more space from Mr. Far-Too-Tempting-And-Oh-Yeah-He’s-My-Employee, pretending to check for something on the bottom of her shoe.
“Does that mean you’ll forgive me for being a total bi-otch last night and come back to work?”
“Only if you forgive me for acting like your mother hen.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry, guess I had some bad memories dredged up, too.”
“Deal. And…I’ll lay off the wine when you’re around from now on.”
Maddie extended her hand his way. Instead of shaking, he pulled her into a tight hug.
“I thought I’d lost your friendship last night,” he whispered, his cheek resting atop her head. “Took me forever to fall asleep.”
The pain in his voice surprised her even more than the unexpected contact. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in his delicious scent, savoring his warmth, all the while telling herself not to get too used to this. He was talking friendship, and that’s all they were meant to be. Even if he had just admitted to lying in bed last night, thinking about her.
“Nah,” she said, rubbing circles along his back. “It’d take a whole lot more than stealing my wine to do that.”
“Good.” He drew back all too soon, then grabbed a jacket off the chair he’d vacated. “You eat already?”
“No. You?”
“Nope, and I’m starved.”
“We could just eat the monkey bread I brought.” She shrugged.
“No way, I’m saving that for later. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I need to get out of here for a while, clear my head. We can work on our next plan of attack while we’re there.”
Plan of attack? Maddie didn’t have the foggiest idea what that was all about, but found herself liking the “we” part of it all a good deal.
“Yeah, all right. Where’re we going?”
He motioned toward the door and threw her a devilish grin. “You’ll see.”
…
Cole held the door open to EAT, enjoying the look of utter mortification on Maddie’s face as she stepped inside. He’d heard someone mention it after church a while back and had fallen in love with the place. No snooty or opinionated patrons here. With its grease-laden atmosphere, slowly decaying interior, and quickly deteriorating exterior, it was simply a place people went to, well, eat.
All except for Maddie, who looked like she’d rather lick the Checkerberry’s floor clean than consume their food…which made it that much more amusing. He’d just consider it restitution for her behavior last night. She angled for a far corner, casting him a look over her shoulder that could have put a sumo wrestler six feet under, but came to a halt a few steps farther.
“Brent?”
A broad set of shoulders flinched to their left. Brent Masterson lowered his newspaper and turned reluctantly from his plate full of diner food at the bar.
“Uh, hey, Maddie. Cole. Fancy meeting you here.”
“There is nothing fancy about this place.” She scanned the long bar with a look of disgust, her gaze landing on the half-eaten meal before him. “Really? I work my butt off each and every day to provide quality food at the inn and this is what you choose?”
Brent looked to him for moral support, and Cole grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a fresh argument with her. Even so, he couldn’t leave Brent hanging, not when he was one of the few long-timers in town who always treated him like just another one of the guys.
“How about we leave Brent to his meal, huh? I bet he’s just here choking it down because he’s missing Kayla. She’s probably back at the inn covering for you, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Maddie’s gaze narrowed. “We’re gonna have words later, Masterson. Words.”
With a shake of her head she continued on toward the far booth. Brent’s shoulders sagged with relief. He mouthed the words “thank you” and turned back to his meal. Cole just chuckled and followed after his boss.
“Can’t believe that man.” Maddie slid into the far booth with a frown. “Can’t believe you, either.”
“Oh, come on, Maddie. You deserve a break from cooking. Let someone else do it for you today.”
She leaned forward, her voice low. “Cooking is not what I would call what goes on behind that wall.”
Cole grabbed a menu poking up from amid the slew of condiments on the window-side of the table and refrained from commenting back. He’d never admit to Maddie, but EAT was one of his favorite places to go in this town. Because it was close to campus, the younger crowd was migratory and oblivious to the town’s newcomers. The older crowd—Brent notwithstanding— was mostly crotchety old men who were more interested in what grain and pork bellies were selling for than the town’s recent additions to their general population. Which left Cole free to kick back without worry that his past might rise up and bite him in the rear.
He glanced at the menu, the debate brief between eggs, eggs, and more eggs and a plate full of flapjack carbs—he was in an eggs kind of mood today—and set it aside. Seeing the waitress busy with another customer, he turned his attention back to Maddie. She sat with her hands in her lap, looking out over the place.
“Already know what you want?”
“A bottle of Clorox.” She met his gaze. “And maybe a blowtorch.”
He burst out laughing. Maddie’s scowl deepened, but the hint of a grin ghosted across her lips. Lips, he realized sitting so close to her, that
were as perfectly curvy as the rest of her.
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Is, too. Let someone else do the cooking for me.” She snorted. “More like let someone else serve me up a heart attack on a plate. With friends like you, who needs enemies?”
So she considered him a friend, too. Cole felt a warmth wash over him he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the early days, before his dad had disappeared. Back when they had a home. A yard. A neighborhood…
He swallowed hard and looked away, afraid if he thought about it too long the spell would be broken. “Friend, huh?”
“Well, it sounds better than subordinate, doesn’t it? And since we’re not at work but sitting here together…”
She cleared her throat, and Cole glanced up in time to see a pretty pink tint to her cheeks. Ah, but that was a thought he shouldn’t be having. She’d just called him a friend. Barely a step up from coworker. Someone as stable and grounded as Maddie deserved a guy with those same characteristics.
“Yeah, friend will work,” he said. “Sounds better than enemy, that’s for sure.”
Yep, he had enough of those already, all because of his jacked-up past, his crappy timing, and his stupid trusting heart. Best to focus on building a career, which started with getting his shop off the ground. If only he could find a way to do that without risking his future in Mount Pleasant. Because the more time he spent here, the more this quiet, conservative town was beginning to grow on him.
Footsteps approached, and soon EAT’s aging, no-nonsense waitress appeared at their table. “Morning. You folks ready to order?”
“Just a coffee for me,” said Maddie. When the waitress raised a brow, she added, “Oh, I already ate.”
Liar. Cole threw her a look. She raised her chin in challenge. He just rolled his eyes and ordered the western omelet and coffee. The waitress shuffled off and was back shortly with her coffee pot, the smell a bit burnt and acidic but caused his stomach to rumble nonetheless. Maddie just stared down at the steaming cup of Joe as though it were antifreeze that’d been set before her.
“It won’t kill you, Madds.”
She arched a brow. “Or maybe it will, and that’s why you brought me here.”
He laughed. She had that effect on him often, intentional or not. It was one of the things he liked about her. And another reason why he needed to get her squared away with Tyson. Because the more time he spent with Maddie, the more Cole found himself thinking about her. And that just wouldn’t do.
“Now, where would the fun in that be? Besides, I promised I’d help set you up with Tyson. Hard to do if you’re pushing up daisies.”
Maddie sighed and slid a hand in through the handle of her mug. “Yeah, but if you killed me then I wouldn’t have to worry about needing to find a date for that stupid gala, now would I?”
“Hmm, not unless there’s an eternity full of them waiting for you Upstairs.”
“And that’d be just my luck, wouldn’t it?”
She groaned, and Cole couldn’t help but grin. Maddie could complain all she liked, but he bet she’d look amazing all dressed up for this crazy gala. Some fitted dress, maybe in a dark blue or purple. Hair done up, makeup on, polished toes peeking out from some sexy, open-toed high heels. He’d just started imagining what it’d be like, sliding his hands around her waist on the dance floor, when she spoke back up.
“So, what’s our next step, coach?”
“Next step?”
Cole ran a hand through his mess of hair. Sexy heels? Where had that line of thinking come from? Maybe bringing her to breakfast hadn’t been such a good idea after all, not if it was going to cause his imagination to start down those paths. She was counting on him to set her up with someone else, for crying out loud. Which meant the best thing that could happen now would be for him to get her and this Tyson guy paired up and paired up fast. Because the sooner she was off the dating market, the easier it’d be to stop this crush he seemed to be developing on his boss before it went any further.
Too bad to properly coach her meant things would likely get tougher before they got better. Coaching required time to be put in. One on one time.
He grabbed his own mug and took a long, scalding drink.
“Talking,” he said with a wince. “We’ve got to get you two talking. And I know just what you need to do.”
Chapter Eight
Maddie stood in her bedroom, hands in hair and heart racing. What had she been thinking, letting Cole talk her into coming back here to help pick out what she should wear the next time she hit the Quarter Clean-It? That place was a hole in the wall where people went to do their laundry, not some swanky martini bar!
Thank goodness her apartment was mostly clean. Still, him coming over had her feeling seriously unsettled, just like when he’d first stepped foot in her kitchen. Apparently, nowhere in this town was sacred anymore.
Then again, after a few days, she’d more or less gotten over that. Sure, she thought of him often when he wasn’t there, but only because she was bored. And maybe a little lonely. Cole seemed to cure all of that.
Funny, she’d been looking for kitchen help and found herself a new friend. With her limited supply, any additions were well worth holding on to. A fresh wave of guilt pummeled her at the thought of how crappy she’d been to him last night. Stupid fragile ego of hers. If he could get her set up with Tyson, maybe her introverted self would finally develop a spine in social settings.
“You gonna take all day in there or what?”
Or maybe not.
Maddie looked to the door and hollered back, “Give me a minute, will ya?”
Grumbling additional four letter words under her breath, she stalked to her closet and flicked through clothes on hangers. Black shirt. Black skirt. Black pants. Another black shirt.
Tell me you have something other than black in your wardrobe, Maddie. She’d thrown him a dark look at that greasy dump called EAT—PUKE was more like it—for that comment, but darn it if he hadn’t been too close to correct. With a growl she snatched a charcoal gray V-neck sweater from the rack and headed for the living room.
“How about this?”
He looked up from his place on the barstool beside Fido and flashed her a smile. Darn it, if that wasn’t maybe the best sight she’d seen in this place. The guy looked adorable when he smiled like that. Why on earth he wasn’t dating was beyond her. Or maybe he was, and he’d just kept very quiet about it? Probably that.
His gaze roved over the sweater, then shifted to hers. “I thought you said you were going to prove you had something other than black back there?”
“What are you talking about? This is charcoal gray, buddy. Hardly black.”
He rolled his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Madds, I’m a guy. And to a guy, black, gray, very dark blue—they’re all pretty much the same.”
Oh, I’ve noticed, she thought, working to keep her face neutral and eyes on his. In fact, I’m doing my darnedest not to think about that too much right now. Not a line I should cross, seeing as you’re my relationship coach and all…
“So what you’re saying is guys expect girls to strut around like princesses in pinks and yellows?”
“No, what I’m saying is this: too much black makes you blend in with the scenery. You want to stand out, look approachable. And a bit less…goth.”
“Goth?”
He grinned. She groaned and headed back to her room.
“Surely you have something else in this magic closet of yours that’s got a little more color in it.”
Oh no.
She spun to close the door behind her but it was too late—Cole was already across the threshold. But whatever mortification and discomfort she felt seemed to have no effect on him. He strode past her, face forward and gaze intent on the closet.
“Good thing I cleaned up this morning,” she said.
Only then did he glance back and take a quick look around, confusion clear on his face. “Why’s that?�
��
“Never mind.”
Men. Totally clueless. It was no wonder she wasn’t in a relationship. Her tolerance for obliviousness was about nil.
Cole assessed her clothing options, barely looking at one item before flipping to the next. He paused at a lavender scoop neck top with three-quarter sleeves. “See? Here, something like this.”
“Um, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because a neckline like that is not what a girl like me”—Maddie motioned toward her chest—“can wear if she’s going to be repeatedly bending over a washing machine. I’ll scare the other patrons.”
“Or draw their attention.” He waggled his brows.
She looked toward her bedroom window and squinted out at nothing. Cole just didn’t understand. Some bodies were made for flaunting. Hers wasn’t one of them. “That’s not the kind of attention I want. Trust me.”
“If you say so.”
They went back and forth for several minutes like this, him throwing out ideas and her shooting them down. Clearly, he didn’t understand body mechanics for the well-endowed. Or the thicker-than-average. Then again, why would he? The guy didn’t have a scrap of excess on him. With a sigh, Maddie took a seat on the edge of her bed.
“Look, I appreciate your help, but maybe I’m not cut out for all of this. Not without a serious makeover and expensive shopping trips. Who has time for that?”
“Wait. This.” Cole slipped a hanger from the rack and turned to show her his latest find. A teal camisole with lace-fringed top came into view. “You could wear it under the cardigan you have on.”
She threw him a skeptical look. The cami was a bit on the clingy side, and Maddie preferred not to draw attention to her shape any more than necessary. Usually, she wore that item under a V-neck sweater, to help hold the girls in place and cover up what the “v” didn’t.
“Oh, come on now, give it a chance. See? Not too gapey.” He tugged at the neckline. “And the cardigan will hang loose over it. You’ll have comfort with a pop of color. It’s the best of both worlds.”
“A pop of color?” She laughed. “Oh my gosh, you sound like the guys on HGTV.”