Perfect Fling
Page 2
“It’s getting better,” Erin lied.
“No, it’s not. You’ve been sick for weeks.”
Erin didn’t argue. She’d run the gamut, from thinking she had food poisoning, to the flu, to a long-lasting virus.
“You’ve missed more mornings of work and left early more times than in all the years I’ve known you.”
Erin shot Trina a wry glance. “That’s a whole two years.” But she got the point. Even her boss, Evan Carmichael, had begun to question her absences and illness with concern, and Evan rarely noticed anything . . . except Evan.
“Anyway, while you were sipping tea in the hallway during lunch, I ran out to the pharmacy and bought you this.” Trina held out a brown paper bag.
Erin narrowed her gaze, cautiously accepting the bag. “What’s in it?” She didn’t wait for Trina to answer, peeking instead. “A pregnancy test?” Erin shrieked before slapping her hand over her own mouth.
True, she hadn’t had her period, but she’d attributed the lack thereof to work-related stress. Not once had she connected her illness to being pregnant.
“Hey, it’s possible,” Trina said.
“Are you kidding me? We’ve been working twenty-four seven for I don’t know how long. I can’t remember the last time I used my battery-operated friend, never mind had a real man.”
“Liar,” Trina said for the second time.
Erin scowled at her friend. They both knew she remembered the exact last time she’d had sex, and Erin recalled every perfect, muscular inch of Cole Sanders and their night together.
Their safe night. He’d used protection each time, and there’d been many. Besides, what were the chances the one and only time she’d stepped outside her comfort zone, something life-altering had actually happened? Fate wouldn’t do that to her after all her well-behaved years. Would it?
Erin regretted having shared vague details with her two friends, because one of them now stood next to her, pointing to the offending test box that every woman on the planet recognized.
“Take it,” Trina ordered.
“I can’t be pregnant.” Erin’s stomach revolted at the very thought, and every nerve in her body shouted in denial.
“Good. Then prove me wrong, and I’ll take you to the doctor to find out why you’ve been nauseous for almost a month straight.” Trina pinned her with a gaze that had potential defendants shaking and crying for mommy.
“Fine.” Erin grabbed the box and headed for the private stall. Her hands shook so badly she was barely able to read, let alone follow the instructions, but a few minutes later, she and Trina were waiting in uncomfortable silence for the requisite pink or blue line.
As the second hand of her watch ticked slowly by, Erin thought about Cole. He’d deliberately steered clear of her in the time since their night together. When she’d see him at Cuppa Café, he’d nod his head and walk out the door.
The other day, while at Joe’s on Ladies’ Night, fighting against this ongoing nausea, a strange impulse had her approaching him. She’d attempted friendly conversation, ignoring the flutters in her stomach caused by being near him and his delicious masculine scent. With a long line of people waiting for drinks, he’d had no choice but to indulge her.
She’d even made him laugh once or twice, giving rise to a stupid flurry of hope . . . that what? Erin refused to go there, which was smart, considering that as soon as his beer was served, he’d grabbed the bottle, treated her to that elusive nod, and disappeared. Cole made it clear that one night meant just that. They weren’t even destined to be friends. Her stomach cramped at the reminder.
She couldn’t pretend his indifference didn’t hurt, and she wished he’d leave their small town so he wouldn’t be a permanent reminder of her one step outside the lines. She couldn’t be pregnant, and not with his baby. She couldn’t think of a worse, more awkward scenario, and her stomach lurched at the possibility.
“Ding!” Trina’s too-cheerful voice shook Erin out of her painful thoughts.
“You look.” She wrapped both arms around herself, aware she was shaking.
Trina extended her hand, and Erin gratefully accepted her friend’s support. She held her breath, her heart pounding so hard in her chest she could swear she heard the sound in her ears, while at this point she couldn’t tell if the lump in her throat was from nausea or panic.
“Well?” Erin asked, unable to stand the silence or the suspense.
“It’s positive,” Trina whispered, no longer feigning upbeat excitement.
Erin let out a sound she didn’t recognize and ran for the nearest stall, unable to contain the nausea she’d been holding at bay.
Two
Cole woke up to the sun shining through the window in his small apartment over Joe’s Bar. As he did every morning since his return home from his last deep-undercover assignment, he catalogued his state of mind and concluded that today was no different than any other.
Yep, status quo in his world.
He took a hot shower, dressed, and headed downstairs to the coffee shop where every morning, Cole picked up his much-needed jolt of caffeine, ignoring the fact that most people in town gave him a wide berth. Most, not all—and not all included the owner of Cuppa Café, Trisha. Much like her bar-owning brother, Joe, Trisha could listen to anyone’s tales of woe. Unlike Joe, she tried to use her charming personality to chitchat him into revealing something about where he’d been the last year and why he hadn’t come around before now. When her well-meaning prying failed, she tried to get him to agree to let her set him up on a date with one of her friends. That wasn’t happening either.
Cole was back in his hometown on standard R and R after a deep-undercover assignment. Usually he and one of his fellow agents did some traveling or he crashed at one of the guys’ cabins in Montana, but Cole hadn’t been back to Serendipity in a while. Much as it pained him to admit it, he’d missed the place where he’d grown up, if not all the people.
So here he was, back in good old Serendipity, where he had some family he liked, some he didn’t, and a job to return to soon enough. At least he loved his job. Cole liked knowing he was taking down the scum of the earth, never mind that his father was convinced he was just like them. Jed Sanders hadn’t approved of his son long before he’d gone into undercover work. He wasn’t a replica of the old man and never would be. He was used to being a disappointment, but he couldn’t deny the constant digs got to him, which was why he’d avoided coming home until now.
Cole figured the last job had gotten to him more than usual if he was back to thinking about Jed’s opinion of him. He tried to avoid looking back on his childhood, taking stock, and learning that just maybe his father had a point.
His cell rang and he picked it up on the first ring. “Hey,” he said to his cousin, Nick Mancini.
“Sorry to tell you, but we’re not working today. Fire inspector’s coming by, so everything’s on hold.”
Since his return, Cole had been working construction for Nick’s company, and Cole appreciated knowing he’d always have a place with his cousin when he needed one. Working for Nick’s dad had always been a way to stay out of the house and keep his father off his back. Too bad Cole hadn’t been smart enough to work more and stay out of trouble, but he couldn’t change the past. And since it had led his mother to take them both away from Jed and out of Serendipity, maybe his juvenile idiocy hadn’t been such a bad thing. No matter what his father thought . . . or blamed him for.
“No problem,” Cole said. “Any other sites you can use a hand on?”
Silence followed and Cole knew exactly what his cousin wasn’t saying. Nick had already informed him that a couple of clients preferred that Cole wasn’t on the crew who worked on their homes. As if he’d steal from anyone, but old neighbors? Friends? Jeez. Much as he hated it, Cole had to admit they had good reason to be suspicious, and nothing he could do or say would dispel their mistrust. Undercover work meant he had to keep a low profile and live with the consequences.
“My mother mentioned Uncle Jed needs some help around the house,” Nick said. “I can handle it over the weekend if you want.”
Nick’s mother was Cole’s mother’s sister. Aunt Gloria had helped Cole’s mom when she needed it most, giving her money to leave Jed, and Cole loved her for it. Nick was like his mom, giving and always there.
Much as he appreciated the offer, Cole didn’t need Nick handling Jed’s crap for him. “You spend the weekend with your pretty wife,” he said of Kate Andrews, whom Nick had finally married a few months ago, a wedding Cole had missed because of work. It had been one of the few times he resented the job.
Because undercover defined him. It wasn’t just what he did; it was who he was. He didn’t have a real life: friends, habits, schedule, routine. He had his work, and his downtime before going back under.
“I don’t mind. I’ll get in and out with no shitstorm. You won’t.”
“Thanks, but as long as I’m in town, I’ll pick up the slack,” he told his cousin.
Nick’s groan echoed through the phone. “No reason for you to deal with the old man.”
“He’s my father. I’m not going to let others do his shit for me, but thanks.”
Nick cleared his throat. “Fine. Come hang out over the weekend?”
“We’ll see.” They both knew he wouldn’t show. But Nick still asked, and Cole still gave him his standard answer.
He said good-bye, grabbed his coffee, and walked out of the shop. As much as Cole liked his cousin, family wasn’t part of his makeup. He hadn’t had a strong unit as a kid, at least until his mother married Brody Williams, but by then Cole had been almost seventeen, self-reliant, self-contained, and basically on his own. He’d taught himself not to want what he couldn’t have. That mind-set served him well in his line of work, and he didn’t see any reason to change now.
He stepped onto the curb as he caught sight of two women crossing Main Street. For a split second, he thought he saw Erin, then realized he was seeing what his subconscious wanted to see. The woman with reddish hair wasn’t Erin, but the thought of her had been firmly implanted in his brain.
The first time he’d run into her after they’d slept together, he’d been abrupt. Curt. He’d wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t looking for her happy smile, flushed cheeks, or warm wave hello. Even if she had been the only good thing about his return home so far. That lack of interaction continued when they saw each other, and though he hated it, he understood keeping her at a distance was better than encouraging any thoughts she might have of a them. Because Erin was the kind of woman who would both want and deserve all the things small-town life entailed. Things Cole could never give her.
That changed a couple of days ago when, cheery smile on her face, Erin saw him at Joe’s. She walked over and made polite small talk, which he managed to survive despite the scent of her perfume reminding him of their explosive night together in bed. It had taken fucking weeks for the arousing smell to dissipate enough to let him sleep in peace without those memories keeping him constantly hard and wanting her.
Since his beer hadn’t been served, he’d had no choice but to wait. Talk. Let her put her soft hand on his arm, which brought back memories of those talented fingers cupping other places on his body.
As soon as Joe slid his drink across the bar, Cole had cut Erin off and bolted, getting as far away from her as he possibly could, heading upstairs immediately. She might think he was a bastard, and the hurt look on her face made him feel like one, but she didn’t need the aggravation that came with being associated with Cole Sanders or the lifestyle he lived.
Even if she did tempt him with her good-girl persona, her creamy, soft skin, and the combustible chemistry that had taken him off guard. Not to mention the light laughter that warmed his chilled, dark soul.
“Enough,” he muttered. Gritting his teeth, he headed to his old Mustang for the drive to his father’s place.
Heaven help him.
He wondered what kind of mood he’d find his father in today.
After Cole and his mother left, his parents had divorced, just another one of the things for which Jed blamed his no-good son. Though his mother had remarried a good man, Jed remained alone and miserable. Cole normally stayed away, but his father was getting older, and as long as Cole was in town, he’d do what he could to help, whether the other man wanted him there or not.
Cole pulled up in front of the house where he grew up, taking it in with a critical eye. Never mind the invisible loose floorboard over which Jed had tripped and broken his arm—the paint was peeling, the windows needed cleaning, and if they didn’t get the roof fixed by next winter, his father would have his hands full with trouble.
For now, however, he’d focus on the smaller jobs, and if Jed was in a decent mood, Cole would try talking to him about moving into a condo that was smaller and easier to take care of, and where the maintenance was covered. His father had bitten his head off the first time he’d made the suggestion.
Cole walked up the driveway, surprised to see a sporty royal blue Jeep parked in front of the garage. He knew who owned that car and muttered a curse. For as much as he’d tried avoiding her in person and thoughts of her in his mind, it appeared luck wasn’t on his side.
• • •
Erin put the two casseroles her mother had made for Jed into his freezer, and the other she placed on a shelf in his refrigerator. Since Jed had been her father’s right-hand man as long as Erin’s dad had been police chief, her parents treated him like family. So before going on her monthlong Alaskan cruise vacation, Ella had cooked up meals to help him out while his arm was in a cast, and had asked Erin to take over her job of making sure Jed had a stocked freezer while they were away.
It was hard for men like Jed and Erin’s father to accept illness or age gracefully. Erin’s dad was in remission from lymphoma, hence her parents’ decision to make the most of the years they had left. Jed’s heart attack last year, his high blood pressure, and now his broken arm frustrated the hell out of him. He’d always been around when she was growing up, at both the house and of course the station, so helping him out wasn’t a hardship.
Or it hadn’t been when she’d agreed to do it. Now that she was pregnant with his son’s child, she wasn’t at all comfortable here.
She turned to Jed to go over the cooking instructions. “So all you need to do is heat the oven to 350 and put this in for about thirty minutes. Or you can cut pieces and microwave them individually. Got it?” Erin asked, turning as she closed the refrigerator door.
“You know I appreciate this, but I could have just ordered from The Family Restaurant.” Jed sat at the kitchen table, drinking his morning coffee, a cast on one arm.
“And you know my mother wouldn’t let anyone she cares about have to make do with takeout. Who would watch your salt intake?” she asked lightly.
“I’m taking those pills, which keep my blood pressure down, so I don’t see why I can’t eat whatever I want,” he muttered with a frown, which did nothing to detract from his distinguished looks.
He had a full head of silver hair, his features masculine and well-defined. Cole definitely resembled his dad.
Erin shook her head, knowing better than to let her mind go there. “That’s an argument for another day. I need to get to work.”
“Is he giving you a hard time?” a familiar male voice asked.
Erin started at Cole’s voice. “I didn’t hear you come in,” she said, her heart now racing at the sight of him.
“Came through the back door.”
“Bastard still has a key,” Jed muttered. “What the hell do you want?” he asked Cole.
Erin cringed, taken aback by the anger in Jed’s tone and the way he treated his son. She hadn’t been in the same room with them together since she was a child. All she remembered was Cole, the wild boy, drinking, getting suspen
ded, and causing trouble, and her parents talking about Jed’s threats to send Cole to military school. But surely all that was in the past? She narrowed her gaze.
“Morning to you too, Dad.” Cole strode into the small kitchen, ignoring his father’s words.
He leaned against the counter, dominating the room by sheer virtue of his presence. He was almost six feet tall, pure muscle and all male, and the small room shrank in comparison.
“So what are you doing here?” Cole asked her, those gorgeous ink-colored eyes penetrating her with his intent stare.
“My mom asked me to bring food over for Jed while she and my dad are out of town.” And since she’d done just that, it was time to beat a hasty retreat. She grabbed her purse from the counter and her car keys, which she’d put alongside it. “I should be going.”
“Don’t rush off on his account,” Jed said.
Erin tried not to wince.
Ignoring his father, Cole pinned her with his steady gaze, and she swallowed hard, resisting the urge to smooth her hair or look uncomfortable.
She didn’t look her best. Morning sickness struck at odd times. She wasn’t sleeping well and, of course, there was the anxiety over being pregnant eating at her. Carrying this burden alone wasn’t smart, but she didn’t know who she could turn to who wouldn’t slip and inform her parents, her brothers, or worse, Cole himself. Erin wasn’t in top form and she didn’t want Cole looking at her too deeply and suspecting something was wrong. It was bad enough she’d have to deal with him eventually.
She clutched her car keys more tightly. “I’ve got to get to work.”
“Driving off women now too, son?” Jed asked Cole, no hint of humor or joking in his tone.
Oh my God, enough already, Erin thought, dying to speak up but certain neither man would appreciate her interfering. Still, she couldn’t help but glare at Jed, letting him know in no uncertain terms his comments were uncalled for. Whatever the difficulties between father and son, they deserved to remain private.