Heat Up the Fall: New Adult Boxed Set (6 Book Bundle)

by Gennifer Albin

  “Nothing.” Audra stood and pressed a kiss to her brother’s cheek. “I was just sitting with Ruby until you were finished. Good meet.”

  “I didn’t know you knew each other.”

  “We didn’t, but she was very helpful,” I supplied.

  Cole gave his sister a look. “That’s my Audra. Helpful to a fault.”

  An understanding of some kind passed between them, and her shoulders sagged a little. The playful expression on her face shifted into a sad one. Add the fact that Cole definitely didn’t want Audra talking to me about something specific, something that made her sad, to the list of things I wanted to know about him.

  “Well, I’ll leave you two to your date; I’m meeting Blair for a workout. Be careful, Cole. Nox is already trying to poach.”

  I wrinkled my nose. “I’m not an egg.”

  She laughed and reached out to squeeze my hand. “You’re hilarious. Let’s get together for coffee sometime.”

  Audra left Cole and me alone. I actually thought having coffee with her would be fun—she probably needed girlfriends with all the testosterone four brothers brought to the table, but she had the Kappas now. She didn’t need me, too, but it was nice of her to say it.

  In fact, all of the Stuarts were really fucking nice. Friendly. If I didn’t know better from going on three years of experience, I’d be tempted to believe that it was possible to find men at Whitman who didn’t believe money mattered more than anything.

  “I leave you alone for one morning and my brothers are trying to steal you away.” Cole gave me a smile, one filled with dimples and just for me this time.

  My knees wobbled but I hid it, elbowing him. “I’m keeping my Stuart options open.”

  “I don’t think I can allow that.”

  “Don’t worry, you’re still in the running.”

  He leaned down, sweeping me into a hug and laughing into my neck. The vibrations spread gooseflesh down my arms and I tightened them around his neck for a moment before shoving my way loose.

  I straightened my tank top and put my cardigan back on, an attempt to guard myself against the way too easy feeling of being with Cole. “So, where are you taking me? It better be good. Nox promised Paris and macarons for dessert.”

  ***

  Cole surprised me by suggesting we take my car instead of a driver, even though he insisted on piloting because he wanted the destination to be a surprise. It didn’t take long before the direction became clear, though, and it wasn’t much in the way of a surprise in South Florida.

  “You’re taking me to the beach?”

  “Ah. Not just any beach.” He rummaged in the trunk and emerged with a light blue blanket and a black cooler bag he’d stowed earlier, which he slung over his shoulder, then held out a hand. “Come with me if you want to live.”

  I rolled my eyes. “What does a Scotsman know about Superman?”

  “What does a pretty girl from Louisiana know about Superman?” He countered.

  “Fair enough. So, what’s special about this beach?”

  “I own it.” He flashed me some dimples. “Well, our family does, anyway. Gavin’s charity bought it recently, with plans to develop it as a retreat for critically ill children.”

  Now that he mentioned it, no other cars were parked on the slab of asphalt, and the dunes were empty and silent except for the sound of the waves licking the shore. “How much?”

  “As far as you can see, and it butts against the Rowland property on that end, so it’s about as secluded as a Florida beach gets.” He led me between two dunes, spreading out the blanket tucked under his arm while I attempted to keep my white skirt from forcing me into an unintentional Marilyn Monroe impression.

  We settled on the ground, shifting until it was comfortable. I gave up on propriety and crossed my legs, jamming my skirt down in the middle to stop it from blowing. Cole unpacked a mountain of tinfoil packages and a bottle of clear Puerto Rican rum.

  “That is a lot of food. Are you expecting the rest of the swim team?”

  “I’m always starving after a meet. Here. Help me unwrap.”

  I grabbed the nearest package and dug at the foil. The sight of boiled crawfish hitched my progress but I didn’t comment. The next one contained grilled oysters, and by the time we were finished, a Cajun feast spread out between us. Along with the crawfish and oysters, Cole had somehow procured red beans and rice, fried chunks of catfish and okra, smoked boudin, and pretty much everything I’d missed since trading the actual South for South Florida.

  A lump tried to form in my throat. “Where did you get all of this?”

  “I have my ways. Do you like it?” Cole’s lakewater eyes lit with anticipation, along with the slightest bit of worry.

  He looked like a little boy waiting to be praised and for some reason, the idea that he’d gone out of his way for me made me want to cry and run away at the same time. Instead, I tried to smile. “I love it. The food here is good, but a girl can only eat so much Spanish cuisine, right?”

  “I’ve always much preferred France, myself,” he murmured, his eyes lingering on my face, an expression of consternation tightening his cheeks.

  “This spot is lovely.”

  He shrugged and twisted off a crawfish tail the way I’d taught him, but chose the meat instead of the brains. “No shame in taking advantage of one’s wealth now and again.”

  “If you say so.”

  “Seriously, Ruby, do you never enjoy the money your parents’ hard work has afforded you? It’s not a crime to come from a well-off family.”

  The question made my palms itch for some reason, the discomfort spreading into other parts of me. It might have been because the money had been made after my birth, after I’d spent years running around barefoot with other ragamuffin kids in the swamp, that this life still felt as though it belonged to someone else. Coming to Whitman, my relationship with Michael my freshman year, it all proved to me that I would never be good enough.

  I didn’t know how to say that and still hang on to my dignity.

  “It’s not that I don’t appreciate it. I would never have gotten into a school with the kinds of connections Whitman offers otherwise, and I’ll be able to move to New York and pursue acting without having to wonder where my next meal is coming from or whether or not I’m going to be eaten alive by raccoon-sized rats in a gross apartment. But I guess I’m still not used to it. People treat me differently.”

  “I think it’s because you treat yourself differently, even though it’s not really as true as you think it is. Everyone loves you.” He twisted the cap off the bottle of rum and poured it into a half-full Whitman water bottle that had muddled mint leaves and what looked like sugar and soda at the bottom, then shook it gently.

  “The girls love me, because they think it’s adorable to have someone loud and uncultured as a friend, and I love them, too. Guys love to drink and laugh with me, and they love to get me into bed, but that’s where it ends.”

  “And you’re not looking for more than a good fuck, anyway, is that it?” Cole raised his eyebrows, vague disappointment in his gaze. “Isn’t that why you started the website?”

  Annoyance battled with chagrin. It had started that way, after that night with Chaney and hearing Ginny and Larissa’s stories, but now…I wasn’t sure why it had taken hold, but if Quinn was right—and he usually was, the ass—it encompassed more than which guys were good in bed. “So, what? If all guys are willing to give me at Whitman is a roll in the proverbial hay, why shouldn’t I expect it to be good?”

  He took a swig of the concoction—some kind of mojito—and passed it to me. The sweet liquid burned the back of my throat and down my esophagus, but the pain felt good. Anchoring. Cole moved closer, tossing empty tinfoil and plastic silverware back into the cooler to make room, until his hands closed over mine.

  “I think, Ruby Cotton, that you should expect everything from any man who spends time with you with romantic intentions. A man who will please you and be pro
ud of you.”

  If anyone but Cole Stuart said that to me, I’d have snorted mint leaves out my nose. His earnest tone and the way he looked into my eyes stilled my cynicism, but it opened up all of the sores that had scabbed over, each one born of a different rejection. It hurt too much to believe that what Emilie and Quinn had wasn’t an aberration, that maybe it did exist. Focusing on a good lay had seemed more achievable, but here Cole was, urging me to believe in unicorns.

  “What kind of intentions do you have, Cole? Other than convincing me your website ratings are bogus, I mean.” The idea that all of this was part of a design to patch his injured pride still held me back from believing he actually liked me.

  “I have many intentions, and the website issue is only incidental.”

  “Incidental?” The warm autumn air seemed too thick with him hovering so close.

  “Yes. It gave me another excuse to talk to you, but I find that the more time I spend with you, the less it matters what anyone else believes about my reputation.”

  My heart thudded in my ears but I fought the dizziness. Battled the belief in unicorns that wanted so badly to rise to the surface. “Another excuse?”

  His ears turned bright red, the way they had in the car the day he drove me home in the thunderstorm. “I volunteered to take over Social Chair because you’re in charge of Delta’s.”

  Shock dropped my jaw. “And the Coterie?”

  “I may have suggested it to Geoff.”

  Happiness squeezed my chest. He’d done those things before he learned about the website. Feeling lighter than I had in a long time, I looped an arm around his neck and pulled our mouths together. He kept his hands over mine and kept the moment as chaste as possible, but my stomach still flipped again and again while our lips moved together, tongues slipping lazily against each other’s.

  When we broke apart too soon, he eased back a little, taking another drink of mojito. “Tell me about growing up in Louisiana.”

  “Before or after the money happened?” I regretted the spontaneous response, nearly biting the end of my tongue in an attempt to recapture it.

  Cole’s expression didn’t change; he continued to pack away the remnants of our lunch. “Both.”

  I got up, my limbs shaky from the kiss and the rum and my unintentional confession, and wandered toward the water line. Warm waves sucked the sand from under my toes and then splashed again, covering my ankles and depositing a bit of calm along with them. It wasn’t as though my past was a big dirty secret, but all of this felt too much like trusting Cole. Unlike most of the men I’d met, he seemed hellbent on actually getting to know me before he’d let that happen.

  How close could I let him get and still protect my heart?

  I felt Cole come up behind me more than heard him and turned, trying and failing to keep my hair from tangling in the wind. “My father’s company went public when I was nine. We lived in one of the poorer parishes in Louisiana—dirt roads, one-bedroom houses, every color kid you could imagine. I had friends, I spent my afternoons making mud pies, evenings chasing fireflies in my bare feet. My mom used to have a devil of a time wrestling me into a bath.”

  I smiled at the memory of my mother, relaxed and smiling, the way she’d been before her own empire took off and demanded all of her time and attention.

  “It sounds lovely,” Cole said carefully, his eyes locked on mine. “I grew up similarly outside of Elgin—Scotland, obviously. My brothers would roll me in cow shit so that they would have more time to play while my mother scrubbed the stink loose.”

  “That’s disgusting.” But adorable.

  “And after the money?”

  I slammed the last of the mojito and tossed the water bottle back toward our blanket, then turned and waded into the water. Talking to Cole felt too natural. It made it seem like we had everything in common, but it was a lie. I wasn’t here to find a boyfriend. I was here to spend a hopefully sexy afternoon with a boy that turned me on like no other, not to hunt mythical creatures.

  Cole was auditioning for the role of the boyfriend, and although I wanted to see how far he would go to secure the part, I knew he’d get cut in the end.

  Warm water hit my thighs, cooling some of the raging heat from just being in close proximity to him. It soaked my white skirt until it clung to my legs, then crept over my belly button.

  “What are you doing?”

  I spun, a saucy grin on my face. If there was one thing I knew, it was how to distract a guy. “Want to teach me how to swim?”

  “Please tell me you’re kidding. Because I’m not going to jump in and save you in my clothes.” He glanced down at his khaki shorts and Whitman swimming polo, then back at me. The concern darkening his eyes almost made me giggle but I kept a straight face.

  “Nope.”

  “Ruby, be serious. If you can’t swim, come back out. The ocean’s nothing to screw around with. It’s dangerous.”

  I pretended to stumble backward, sitting down in the water, which still only came to my nose, and thrashed around. Water filled my mouth when I couldn’t hold back the laughter and sucked in a mouthful, and my very real sputtering spurred Cole into action. He tore off his shirt and was at my side, scooping me into his arms within seconds. He held me against him with one arm and swiped my soaked hair out of my eyes with a shaking hand.

  His frantic expression went slack when he realized my gasps were mostly due to the belly laughs taking control of my limbs. He dropped me back into the waves.

  When I came up the second time, still spitting water and laughing my ass off, his stern eyes started to crinkle. A smile twitched the edges of his lips. “You got me.”

  “Oh, Lifeguard Cole, will you save me? I think I need mouth-to-mouth!” I swooned back under the waves.

  Cole’s strong hands reached into the water and grabbed my waist, hoisting me to my feet. Once extracted from the warm ocean, the afternoon air chilled me, and a glance down at my now see-through pale pink top and white skirt revealed that I might as well be naked. I looked up to find Cole’s eyes perusing the same sight, and my body responded—my heart pounded, my skin heated up, and the world felt heavy under the push and pull of the tide between us.

  Water droplets clung to the bronzed skin stretched across his broad chest and shoulders. The khakis hung low on his waist and plastered against his crotch, and the sight made my own throb with need. I took two steps toward him, sliding my palms across his slick muscles and leaning in to press my mouth to his skin. The saltwater mixed with chlorine mixed with musky boy tasted delicious, and Cole’s quick take of breath tasted even better.

  In one swift movement Cole slid an arm behind my knees and the other behind my shoulders, cradling me against his chest as he went for my mouth, devouring my lips and tongue with more fervor than on the beach earlier.

  We were still kissing when he slogged out of the water and back up the sand, and when he dropped to his knees and pressed me back into the blanket. Without thinking, I pulled my soaked top off and tossed it to the side, yanking Cole closer to feel the sensation of his still damp skin against mine. The section of beach was secluded, plus two sand dunes hid the spot we’d chosen for our picnic pretty well.

  His hands were everywhere, lighting fires on my stomach, hips, and breasts while his mouth spread flames along my neck and collarbone. I pulled his face back to mine and slid my tongue along his bottom lip, eyes open to drink in the way his lashes fluttered when I did something he liked. His hips settled against mine, erection pressing between my open thighs, and it felt so good I wanted to cry.

  This was the connection I wanted from Liam—the kissing, the touching, the buildup to what had to be an amazing final number. Cole brought it all without even taking my clothes off. We had something chemical, a reaction that happened when our lips met and our skin touched, that just didn’t happen every day.

  He raised up and rolled to my side, turning me with him so that our legs tangled and our lips didn’t have to part, and slid my soppi
ng skirt up until his hand rested on my bare hip. Fingers slipped under the edge of my underwear and I groaned into his mouth. They slid along the slippery wetness, a mixture of ocean water and my body’s insane desire to be ready for his, then dipped inside me.

  I clenched around him, holding my breath so I didn’t scream. His other hand slid one bra strap off my shoulder, lowering it until he pushed the cup out of the way. His lips teased my breast with soft kisses until his tongue found my nipple and tugged it into his mouth. My back arched, shoving me harder against him, and the sensation of his mouth and tongue and fingers still working magic nudged me toward the edge of a cliff.

  My hips rocked against his hand, the fabric of my body about to tear from the building orgasm. Holy fuck, nothing had ever felt so amazing in my entire life. When he crushed my lips with his again, his tongue invading my mouth with his fingers deep inside me, thumb brushing the spot that ached the most with the perfect amount of pressure, the combination shoved me off the cliff.

  Waves of intense pleasure crashed over me, pushed me down and held me under while they rolled over me. My fingernails dug into the muscles bulging between his neck and shoulders, words leaving my throat in a guttural whisper that turned to a sobbed shriek.

  I wasn’t sure how long it took the world to come back, but somehow, the experience did nothing to diminish my need for Cole. I wanted more, and kissed him with increased fervor as my hands pulled his hips against me, finding his hardness and squeezing.

  “Don’t stop,” I whispered.

  That’s when Cole froze.

  Chapter Fifteen

  There was suddenly space between us, and not only the physical kind. He hadn’t even moved that far, and his hand was still on my hip, but my pleading had changed something.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing. I just think we should get going.”

  “Get going?” My brain struggled to compute the statement, even knowing what I knew about Cole’s reputation. He had been as into this as I had, I was sure of it.