by BJ Harvey
“Yep,” he replies gruffly. Without another word, he stalks out of the firehouse toward the garage. I follow, used to this brooding version of Cohen Cook. He’ll get over it. Usually, it only takes about half an hour for him to come right again.
I reach the door of the ambulance and swing it open, Cohen doing the same on his side.
Cohen checking me out is a new development, and I find the discovery has sparked something in me I wasn’t quite prepared for.
Hope.
Because pre-kiss Skye could fantasize about what pre-kiss Cohen could do with his hands and mouth. Now? Having had a small taste—and feel? I find myself becoming fixated on those long fingers of his as they grip the steering wheel, the square chiseled jaw fixed tight as he stares out the windscreen waiting for the garage doors to roll up. Those soft yet surprisingly unyielding lips of his hold me hostage in the best possible way.
No, I definitely don’t need to think of those things, and I definitely don’t need to have hope.
I laid it out straight for my darling partner, and couldn’t have been any clearer. If he wants a piece of this perky pony, he just needs to say the word.
Until then, I guess I’ll just stick to what I’m good at when it comes to Cohen Cook… solo rides.
5
Cohen
Bright and early Friday morning, I’m out of bed and doing the final bit of packing before Jamie and Jax arrive with a moving truck to transport my belongings to my new apartment in Skye’s building.
Having zipped up my last suitcase, I grab the handle and wheel it along the hallway, carry it down the stairs and leave it with everything else by the front door.
Walking into the kitchen, I find my parents sitting at the kitchen island, mugs in hand, Dad shoveling cereal into his mouth like he’s training for an eating competition, not getting ready to leave for work.
“There’s a fresh pot of coffee made,” Mom says, smiling at me.
I make a beeline for it, grabbing a cup from the cabinet and pouring my first healthy dose of caffeine for the day. “Thanks.”
After turning around, I lean back on the counter and take a long sip.
“Are you all right there, Dad? You carb-loading or something?” I say with a smirk.
“Nah. I figure you’ll be filling up before you have to live without your mother’s cooking, so I’m getting in first.”
Mom whacks his shoulder. “You be nice to my baby. He’s leaving the nest.” Her voice is thick with emotion.
“Mom,” I say as softly as I can. I’m the first to admit that I’m a mama’s boy; it comes part and parcel with being the baby of five. “I have lived away from home before.”
“I know, it’s just that this time seems a bit more permanent.”
“I think it will be. It’s time.”
Dad looks up from his food, his eyes full of pride. “You’re always welcome here, Co, but maybe it’s you who needs the space. Besides, we’re getting older. I need all the alone time I can get with your mother here before she decides to trade me in for a younger model.”
“Hush, Rick,” Mom says with a laugh. “Who else would put up with you? Why would I want to start all over when I’ve spent almost forty years training you?”
My father gives me a wink before looking over at his wife. “You just like me for my big—”
Mom shrieks and slaps her hands over his mouth. “Hammer. He was going to say hammer.”
I roll my eyes, chuckling at the amusement in Dad’s eyes. “Knew I got my big hammer from somewhere,” I say. “Suuuure. I believe you, Mom. I’m painfully aware of your love of Dad’s tools. Hence the need for me to move out.”
Mom’s mouth drops open before she quickly glances at Dad then back to me, a slow-growing smirk curving his lips. “I’ll cut him off if you want.”
The man beside her growls, making me snort.
“I’ve only had you here for twenty-nine years. I’ve known him for way longer. He’ll cope,” she says with a shrug.
I throw my head back and laugh, still doing so when there’s a noise at the front door and footsteps sound down the hall. Jamie and Jax walk into the kitchen like they own the place.
Jax makes a beeline around the island and straight for the coffee pot while Jamie moves toward Mom, bending down to kiss her cheek.
“Hey, Ma.”
“Good morning, son.”
“What about me?” Dad asks, looking up at my oldest brother with a devilish grin. “Don’t I get a kiss too?”
“I’ll kiss ya, Dad. Just let me get a coffee and a frontal lobotomy first,” Jax says, joining the conversation.
I grin, and Dad chuckles. “Sure thing, boy. You’ve already made me a grandbaby, and we’ve got another one exactly like you, so you go right ahead and try to pucker up.”
“Harsh, Dad. Besides, my twin isn’t even in the same state right now.”
“This is true. Maybe we’ll keep you around for a bit longer,” Dad retorts.
Mom looks straight at me. “You sure you don’t want to stay and keep your old mother company?” Her eyes are bright and full of hope.
“I’ll still be here when I’m too tired to cook,” I say with a grin.
Jax snorts. “Or when he forgets how to be a grown-up and realizes just how good he’s had it for years.”
I jab him in the ribs.
“Ow, asshole. What was that for?” he asks stupidly.
I shoot him a smirk. “Just saying I love you too.”
“Fucking keep it to yourself next time,” Jax mutters.
After draining my mug, I move to the sink and rinse it out before turning to face Jamie. “Should we get started?”
He nods. “Sounds good to me.”
Mom sniffles. I walk toward her to give her a hug, but she waves me off. “Don’t mind me. It just feels like you’re moving out for the first time all over again.”
Dad sends me a knowing look and wraps his arm around Mom’s shoulders. “Marcy, just think of how good it was when we were empty-nesters last time.”
She buries her face in his neck, and when our father tilts his head toward the door with a small smile, the three of us guys make an exit.
Three hours later, Jax and I are hauling the last of the furniture from our storage unit load into the living area of my new flat, Jamie having taken off to meet with Ezra and our contractors, Matt and Jase, about starting work on Monday.
April and Ronnie arrived an hour ago and have been unpacking boxes, and, by the smell wafting through the apartment, they’ve been food shopping too.
As soon as Jax and I place the three-seater sofa on the floor, his stomach rumbles loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Damn, that smells good.”
“Jax.” Ronnie giggles, covering her mouth.
“Males. Always hungry, even when they probably stole food from their parents’ house before they came here,” April says, arching a brow at him.
My brother shrugs, shooting his wife a grin. “I can’t help it if my actual mama cooks as good as my baby mama.”
“It seems hunger also affects your ability to speak good too,” I say, shaking my head.
Jax snorts. “You’re just jealous you don’t have anyone to cook for you anymore, mama’s boy.”
“Mom taught me how to cook just like you, asshole,” I say, flipping him off. I walk around the couch and crack a window open. “God, it’s hot in here.” Gripping the bottom of my tee, I lift it up and wipe my forehead just as there’s a knock on the open front door.
“Hello—whoa. Cass, put the goods away. There are young eyes in the room.” I snap straight, catching Skye’s smirk as she stands in the front doorway.
I don’t miss her gaze traveling down my torso, her eyes flaring with what could only be appreciation.
Skye’s quirked brow brings my attention to the fact I’m still flashing my abs to everyone.
I drop my hand like a hot potato, chuckling to try and hide the fact my cheeks feel hot.
“Oh jeez, is
little Co blushing?” Jax teases. Asshole.
Squaring my shoulders, I grip the hem of my tank and lift it again, plastering a wicked grin on my face. I turn back and forth, making sure all three women in the room get a look before locking eyes with my brother.
“Would you blush when you look this good? What do you think, Ron? Wish Jax had abs of steel? Wanna swap brothers?” I tease.
Jax rolls his eyes and pulls Ronnie into his side, wrapping his arm around her possessively. “Not you too. I thought that shit would end when Bry got hitched. Now it’s the last single Cook standing trying to steal my wife.”
April just snickers, shaking her head before turning to the kitchen. Skye moves my way.
Her lips tip up as she drags her eyes to my face. Our gazes lock, the simmering heat still there slamming me back to last weekend and how the sheer need between us threatened spontaneous combustion in her living room. Shit. I thought we’d both moved past that.
We’ve worked two entire shifts together this week with absolutely no awkwardness, Jamie’s words of wisdom ringing in my ears, and serving as a helpful reminder whenever my mind would start to wander.
Yet now, with that look in her eye, it seems I can’t look away or shut my brain off.
“Ken, it must be getting hot in here, or else these pregnancy hormones are exactly that—whore mmmphs.” Ronnie’s words are muffled by Jax’s hand covering her mouth. He walks backward, pulling his wife with him into the kitchen and out of sight, laughing as he goes. This leaves us alone in the room.
“You gonna take that off or stop showing me what’s off the market, neighbor?” Skye says, mischievous eyes and a salacious smirk.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to say something flirty back, but our previously easy-going banter is heavy with meaning now. Skye’s cheeky teasing, which I used to laugh at without any forethought, has me thinking of possibilities I shouldn’t be entertaining. It still doesn’t stop me from saying the first thing that rolls off my tongue.
“Enjoying the show?” I ask, lifting one eyebrow.
She lazily scans me head to toe, lifting her arm and dragging her bottom lip down with the pad of her thumb.
She shrugs when she looks back at my face again. “It’s not bad. I’ve seen better, definitely seen worse.”
“Oh really?” I scoff and close the distance between us a little. “And when exactly did you last see better?”
“Zach looks after himself,” she says.
I shake my head. “Zach’s happily married.”
The corner of Skye’s lips tip up. “Scotty isn’t too bad.”
I snarl before I can stop myself, and her smirk widens because that’s exactly the reaction she was goading me for.
I lean forward. “Scotty is not better than me.”
Skye tilts her head to the side in a barely-there gesture. “I’ll ask him to take his shirt off tomorrow so I can get a closer look…” She dips her chin and drops her voice to a whisper. “Maybe even a hands-on check. And of course, I’d have to let him see mine too. Tit for tat—so to speak.”
I stare into her eyes, unwilling to look away, let alone react to what she’s saying.
I’ve always been a little more possessive than my brothers are, and there’s no way in hell I’m going to let Scotty touch Skye or vice versa. Then again, neither will her brothers.
Now it’s my turn to grin.
“Knock, knock,” a loud voice clearly says. Skye and I jump apart like two teenagers who’ve just been caught necking.
Both our heads turn to the front door to find a frowning Jamie and a highly amused Ezra standing there watching us.
“Are we interrupting something?” Jamie asks, arching a brow.
“Nope. Not at all,” Skye says, plastering a smile on her face. “I’m just going to see if April needs any help…” she rambles, pointing in the direction of the kitchen. “So, I’m gonna go do that now.” Then, in a Houdini move even I’m impressed by, she’s gone before any of us can reply.
“Anything I should know, little brother?” Jamie asks.
“Yeah, Co, anything juicy you want to tell us?”
Jamie rolls his eyes at our friend, and I ignore both of them.
Ez shrugs, walks across the room and collapses onto the couch, staring at the bare wall opposite. “Dammit. Why have you not set up the TV yet? This is barely worth playing hooky for.” He smirks up at me. “Although, the sexual tension we walked in on does make up for it a bit.”
Jamie’s lips twitch, his eyes drifting to his best friend, who’s apparently making himself at home. He looks me dead in the eye. “All good, Co?” he asks, but the inference is clear. Don’t stick your dick where it’s gonna get complicated.
I nod, far too sidetracked to answer him verbally.
Banter-driven exchanges with Skye are like foreplay, plain and simple, and the more time we spend together outside of work, the more likely they are to happen.
One thing I’ve learned: there’s only so much foreplay a man like me—and a woman like her—can take before something’s got to give… or blow…
Right now, I’m torn between staying away for self-preservation and orchestrating more of what she just gave me.
Living so close and working even closer is going to be sweet torture.
I have to stay strong, stand my ground, keep our friendship, and stop myself from doing something one—or both of us—may regret.
And that is the reason I’m going to hold on to, whatever Skye Rossi may throw at me. Because it’s the right thing to do.
It has to be.
6
Skye
I’m having a really good dream when my phone vibrating on my nightstand wakes me up.
Channeling my inner sixteen-year-old who doesn’t want to get out of bed, let alone adult, I roll over on my side, grab my pillow and cover my head, willing whoever it is to call back later.
But then my conscience kicks in. I turn back around and throw my arm out, grabbing the noisy offending device and answering the call.
“Hello?” I ask, not looking at the screen.
“Hey, Skye. It’s Jamie.”
Well, damn. I sit up and lean back against my headboard. “Uh… hi…”
“Sorry, I know it’s your day off, and I know from Co never to call before nine a.m., but we’re having a site meeting in flat two at ten, and I wanted to invite you along.”
My head jerks back. “Me? I’m not a stakeholder though. And I’m not exactly experienced in anything but demolition. My dad will back me up on that.”
Jamie laughs quietly in my ear. “It sounds like there’s a story there.”
“Let’s just say I was the baby of the family who wanted to prove she could do anything her big brothers could do. I took a sledgehammer to the wrong wall, and I’m still not allowed to touch Dad’s tools without supervision to this day.”
“Sounds like something Axel would do. How old were you?”
“Six.”
“Damn. And you could lift a sledgehammer?”
“I was a strong kid.” I shrug even though Jamie can’t see me.
“Must’ve been. You would’ve kicked Co’s ass at that age.”
“But when he was six, I would’ve been three, so maybe not,” I muse.
Jamie chuckles. “You didn’t know him back then. He was a late bloomer.” The line falls comfortably—albeit slightly awkwardly—quiet.
“Ah… so did you call to talk about Co or…”
“No, but feel free to use my number if he’s being a pain in the ass at any time.” The amusement in his voice is obvious.
“At work or just as a neighbor?”
“Both. Although, if you were wielding heavy weapons at six, I think you can take care of yourself. Besides, you’ve probably got more dirt on him than any of us brothers do.”
More like I want to get down and dirty with him.
“Anyway, sorry again for the early wake-up call, and you’re welcome to come at ten if you don’t
have other plans and if you’d like to veto a particular part of our schedule—especially if it’s going to cause too much disturbance for you. It’s just better to know sooner rather than later in a project this big.”
“Absolutely. I really appreciate the consideration, Jamie. It’s more than I expected, that’s for sure.”
“You’re our tenant; we have a duty to make this as painless as possible for you. Especially since you were keen enough to stick around during the renovations.”
“You mean the total rebuild?”
He laughs, and it sounds almost identical to Cohen’s, except it doesn’t have the same effect on me as his younger brother’s—which I’m thankful for. Wanting to jump one Cook brother is bad enough—all four of them would be downright dangerous.
“You’re not wrong. I just hope you’re happy with the outcome.”
“You’ve promised me an en suite and a main bathroom with a bathtub and an extra bedroom. If you pull this off, I might name my first child after you, which is lucky because Jamie is good for a girl or a boy. Although it probably wouldn’t stop me if it wasn’t, to be honest—I’m pretty open-minded when it comes to names and things…” The phone, still to my ear, is deathly quiet. Must fill the void. “Not to say I’m going to have kids anytime soon. I mean, I’m single. Single as a nun. Well, maybe not a nun, but—”
Jamie’s chuckle breaks me out of my rambling.
“Sorry,” I say, my cheeks burning. “I get carried away sometimes.”
“Does this happen with Co?” he asks, curiously.
“Yeah. I swear he just tunes out.”
“I bet he listens even when you think he’s not.”
Whoa. What does that even mean? I hedge my bets. “Maybe.”
Again, the line goes quiet.
“Okay. I’ve got to make my wife breakfast in bed, then I’ll be there. As I said, you’re welcome to join us.”
“Thanks, Jamie.”
“Not a problem. And Skye?”