“They were mine, too,” he teased. “I’ll take you shopping when we get back. Probably ought to get a few backup pairs while you’re at it.”
“Why?” she asked, stepping into her pants commando style and wiggling them over her hips. “You plan on tearing them off again?”
“Absolutely.”
That cagey grin began to stir all her achy places with blossoming heat. Her deliciously sore nipples hardened against their flimsy barrier, and the tender, well-loved place between her legs hurt just enough to remind her of the incredible night she and Cole had shared. She’d done it! With Cole’s help, she’d faced her fears, and the freedom she’d found in his touch had been so liberating, so unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. If she thought too hard on it, she might just cry, which would be a total mood killer. Talk about your mixed signals.
Turning away from him, she busied herself bundling up in her coat, boots, mittens, hat . . . “Well, I gotta tell you.” She shifted her weight on her legs, then wiggled her hips back and forth. “I don’t get the appeal to this commando stuff. It just feels weird.”
Cole laughed as she made her way to the door, promising, “You will,” as she marched out the door and trudged into the freezing cold.
“So I’m sitting beside Marcus, laughing my ass off because this voice comes through the speaker saying, ‘Apple pie, I get you one.’ Marcus tells the woman, ‘No, I don’t want an apple pie. I want a Coke. Just give me a Coke.’ The voice says again, ‘Apple pie, I get you one.’ Marcus looks at me, you know that look he gets when he’s trying not lose his temper, but that shit’s about to blow.”
Katie nodded, laughing too hard to talk.
“This goes on a little bit longer, the same back and forth. ‘Apple pie, I get you one.’ And finally Marcus gets so pissed he pulls up to the drive-through and tells the woman when she opens the window, ‘I want a Coke, lady, just a Coke.’ And the woman looks at him like he’s a complete idiot and speaks real slow and loudly, like he belongs on the short bus or something, ‘A dollar five. Window one.’”
Katie went into another fit of laughter, grabbing her aching sides. Lord, it felt so good to laugh. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed so much, or so hard. “And you knew the whole time!”
Cole smiled, chuckling as he nodded.
“Why didn’t you tell him?”
“Are you kidding me? That was funnier than shit! Besides, I’d been hounding him for months to get some damn hearing aids and he wouldn’t do it. It only took about a week of me saying ‘Apple pie, I get you one’ before he finally went in and got some.”
“That sounds just like Uncle Marcus,” she laughed. The whole ride home, they’d been laughing and sharing stories about her uncle. As if she needed one more reason to love this man sitting beside her. Listening to Cole’s stories, seeing the admiration in his eyes when he spoke of her uncle, only deepened her connection to him. This morning, Cole had shown her another side of himself she hadn’t known existed. It was as if he’d finally lowered his walls, allowing her a glimpse of the man he truly was—the man hidden behind the injury, the paparazzi, the fame . . . Buried somewhere deep beneath that tough exterior and that serious, stoic mask, Cole had a wonderful sense of humor. He was fun, flirtatious, and charming. Katie suspected she was seeing a side to the rough fighter few others got to experience, and it made her feel . . . special—loved—which was a dangerous thought, because if she wasn’t careful, this man could very well break her heart.
She glanced at the clock on the dash and frowned. It was already early evening. Where had the day gone? They’d gotten a late start in heading home. When she’d returned to the fish house this morning, Cole was already up and making her breakfast. She’d been disappointed to find him out of bed and dressed so fast. Despite being a little sore, she would have liked to spend a little more time with him horizontal, pretending the rest of the world didn’t exist. How easily being in his arms made her forget . . .
After breakfast, she’d finished packing up while Cole went over to the fish house next door to donate their catch. When nearly an hour came and went, and there was still no sign of him, Katie bundled back up and headed over to see what the delay was. She’d knocked on the door and pulled it open on the command “Come in!” and found Cole standing there with a beer in hand, and another guy standing beside him, also holding a beer, as both men smiled for the camera. As soon as the stranger snapped the pic with his phone, he declared, “My turn” and switched places with his buddy. Neither guy had yet to glance her way. They were both too starstruck to be sharing a beer with the Beast of the East. But Cole noticed her. His gorgeous glam-cam smile melted into the softer, more carefree grin he seemed to save just for her. When the the flash went off, she couldn’t help the insane flare of jealousy that surged up inside her at the thought that her smile had been caught on camera.
It was ridiculous to think that she owned a smile, but any grin that could have that strong of an effect on her, making her heart patter like it did, her knees go weak, and the place between her thighs grow wet, owned her enough that she felt she had the right to reciprocate.
“Hey, Kat.”
When Cole greeted her, both guys whipped around. One muttered “Holy shit” under his breath, but in the small fish house, sound traveled and suddenly Cole’s smile wasn’t quite so amiable anymore. “Sorry I kept you waiting, babe.” Without missing a beat, he moved forward and slipped his arm around her waist, tucking her into his side and clearly staking his claim. “Guys, this is Katrina, my girlfriend. Kat, this is Matt and Drew. They’re fans.”
Katie hadn’t heard anything after girlfriend, and she went through the motions of introductions and numbly accepted a beer when it was shoved into her hand, all the while trying not to read too much into what he’d just said. Did Cole really consider her his girlfriend, or had it been a glib term spoken to stake his claim? Whatever the intention, it’d worked, because the men’s appreciative stares had been quickly diverted, and their full attention returned to Cole.
He’d finished his beer with the guys, answering questions and talking about the likelihood of a rematch between him and De’Grasse. Hearing him speak of the future only further drove home the temporary state of their situation, and along with it, solidified her conviction to make the most of the time she had left with him. When the guys had gotten up, heading to the cooler for another beer, Katie leaned over and whispered an offer into Cole’s ear he couldn’t refuse.
She just about laughed when he all but jumped up and grabbed her hand, telling the guys it was great meeting them and that he had to go. The rest of their time before checkout had been spent between the sheets, and she knew she’d never look at a bunk bed the same again.
Are you hungry? Do you want to stop and eat before we go home?”
“I could eat. We burned a lot of calories this morning,” she teased, casting him a flirtatious, sideways glance.
Cole chuckled and slipped his hand around the back of Katie’s neck, pulling her close to plant a quick, hard kiss on her lips before turning his focus back to the road. It felt good being with him like this, so natural. For a little while, she could almost pretend they were a normal couple—and that was exactly what Katie did.
All through that morning when Cole had brought her back to the fish house and made love to her, taking her to heights she’d never been before, and all through the afternoon where they talked and laughed, sharing some stories and touching on others that weren’t so easy to talk about. For almost a whole day, Katie pretended that her life wasn’t a complete fucking nightmare. And she’d almost convinced herself of it, too, until they’d pulled into the driveway.
Dusk had fallen, leaving enough remnants of the sun behind to see without the aid of a light. She was busy chatting away about something unimportant as she dug through her purse, looking for the house keys, when Cole abruptly slammed on the brakes. The rental came to a jarring halt, and Katie’s hand flew up to the
dash, bracing herself as her head snapped up to see what was wrong.
“That motherfucker!” Cole snarled.
Katie followed his stare, her breath catching in her throat on a strangled gasp, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. “Oh, my God! Is that . . . blood?” Katie’s nails bit into the dash as she stared at the snow-covered yard. The pristine white pallet, stained crimson with the words Fucking Whore on display for all to see. “OhmyGod ohmyGod ohmyGod,” she chanted. Her stomach knotted, sending a surge of bile rising up the back of her throat, choking off her air. “Is it blood?” she cried shrilly when Cole didn’t answer her.
“I don’t know. I can’t tell from here. Don’t move.” He jumped out of the rental SUV, slamming the door behind him, and entered the house through the garage. Minutes passed and he still hadn’t returned, ratcheting Katie’s fear to a whole new level. Panic gripped her throat like an invisible hand, squeezing . . . squeezing . . . She couldn’t breathe! She had to get out of here! Just as her hand dropped to the handle, the front door of the house opened and Cole came out carrying a blanket. He charged over to the crimson-stained snow and after taking a closer look at the words, covered them with the cream-colored fleece.
When instead of turning back, he kept his gaze fixed on the ground, Katie’s heart sank with dread. Helplessly, she watched as Cole followed a trail across the yard and into the bushes. Bending down, he pushed the bushes aside, as if searching for something—but what? And then the thought hit her, with the striking force of an anvil.
A broken sob escaped her throat as she threw open the car door. “Scarlet! Oh no, Cole, it’s Scarlet, isn’t it!” she cried, charging into the snow. But before she could reach the bushes and confirm her fears, Cole caught her around the waist and pulled her into his arms. His large hand cupped the back of her head, forcing her face against the side of his neck as he turned them away from the bushes and began walking them toward the house.
His silence should have been all the confirmation she needed, but for some reason, she had to hear the spoken truth. “Tell me!” she demanded, wrapping her arms around his neck, holding on with a death grip as she sobbed into his shoulder. “I have to know!”
“It’s Scarlet.”
She barely recognized his voice, the low growl of rage mixed with the tight strain of grief. “I knew it!” Frozen in horror, her legs refused to cooperate and Cole lifted her into his arms. “He killed their cat!”
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart . . .”
The heat of his breath warmed the top of her head. She shivered but was incognizant of the cold, the shock of it all seeping into her bones with an insidious chill that she feared she’d never rewarm from. Cole hugged her tighter, stopping just inside the garage. What was he waiting for? Why weren’t they going inside? Impending doom swept over her, taking with it the last vestiges of her self-control. Any second now, she was going to lose it. Pulling back far enough to see Cole’s face, she could tell he was busy fighting his own battle, though she was sure if he snapped it would be a far different result. She’d never thought a man looked more capable of murder than this man did right now. For one insane moment, she almost wished Carter was here. Without a doubt, Cole would end this. Despite the rage he was struggling to control, Katie could tell there was more—something he wasn’t telling her.
“What is it, Cole?”
He shook his head. “Come on, Kat. Let’s just wait in the car until the police get here.”
“You already called them?”
He nodded, turning to usher her back toward the rental when she put the brakes on. “Wait, Cole. Why do we have to wait in the car? What aren’t you telling me?”
His next words were the final blow, and if Cole hadn’t been holding onto her, she would have hit the ground.
“He’s been in the house, Kat. It’s completely trashed.”
“I want to go in,” Katie insisted, her little nails biting into his biceps as she clung to him. “I need to see it before anyone else gets here—alone—with you.”
Despite Cole’s gut instinct telling him how horseshit an idea this was, he acquiesced. If she truly wanted to go in, it wasn’t his place to stop her. Upon entering the first time, he’d made a thorough sweep of the house, just to make sure the bastard wasn’t lying in wait somewhere. The place was empty—trashed, but empty. Fuck him, Katie wasn’t exaggerating when she’d said Carter was crazy. The shit he pulled with the cat . . . that was just fucked up.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed back the anger—the rage—boiling inside him. He wasn’t going to do Katie any good if he lost his shit. She needed him to remain cool, calm, and collected. She needed his strength if she was going to get through this without losing it herself—a fine line she seemed to be walking at the moment.
Wrapping his arm around her waist for support, Cole walked her into the house through the kitchen entrance. “Watch your feet,” he warned when they stepped inside and glass crunched beneath their shoes. Katie gasped. Her shaky hand flew up to cover her mouth as tears filled her emerald eyes. He kept his own expression locked down as he watched her absorb the carnage in the kitchen. The cupboard doors hung open, the ones still attached, anyway. Broken dishes littered the counter and the floor.
He watched as her gaze strayed to the living room, seeing it again, except now through her horror-filled eyes. The couch was overturned, its cushions slashed. White mounds of stuffing covered the floor in large, fluffy tufts. The end table was missing a leg, no doubt becoming a makeshift bat for Carter’s carnage. The lamp lay broken on the floor, the TV knocked off its stand.
“Oh, my God . . .”
It was all she’d been able to say. Rage boiled up inside him anew, and Cole wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest, but holding her was like trying to console a block of wood. She stood stiffly, staring numbly past his shoulder, seemingly unable to tear her eyes away from the destruction.
“It’s just stuff, Kat. I’ll have a cleaning crew come in here and it’ll be set to rights in no time. I’ll replace what’s broken and damaged. It’s going to be all right.” But as the words tumbled from his lips, even he had a hard time believing them.
Nothing was left untouched, which made the white, square box with a large red ribbon sitting in the center of the table look even more out of place amongst the chaos. He knew the moment she saw it. Felt it in the tension shuddering through her.
“What’s that?” She pointed to the package.
“It was here when I came in the first time.”
“Did you open it?”
He shook his head. “Do you want me to?”
She looked from him to the box and then back to him, her verdant eyes wide and terrified. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she quickly swiped it away. His jaw clenched against the pang in his heart at seeing her like this. Damn, she was a fighter, standing there, struggling to keep it together—and he respected the hell out of her for it. But one wrong move from him and he knew she’d crack.
After another moment, she nodded.
Reluctantly, he let her go and walked over to the table. Standing before the box, he hesitated, glancing over at her. “Are you sure about this?”
“Do it.”
Damn, he loved this woman. His brave little Kat . . . If he could bear this for her, he’d do it in a heartbeat. He’d bear it and more—anything to spare her the pain and mental agony this bastard seemed intent to inflict upon her.
Pulling an end of the bow, the silk ribbon let loose. He grasped the side of the lid and looked at her once more, just to be sure she hadn’t changed her mind. When she nodded, giving him the go ahead, Cole lifted the lid. At the sight of Katie’s black lace panties nestled on top of the white cloud of tissue paper, a feral growl rumbled in this throat. But it was the white, crusted stains defacing the lace that tore the curse from his lips. “Motherfucker!” Grabbing the envelope out of the box, he slammed the lid back down.
“What is it?”
Ignori
ng her question, he slipped his finger beneath the seal of the envelope and ripped it open. Cole pulled out the card. The front of it was generically patterned with colorful daisies—Katie’s favorite flower. How in the hell he remembered such a trivial fact was beyond him. It wasn’t the kind of thing he ever would have paid attention to in the past, but with Katie, things were different—he was different. Apparently, he actually listened to the things she had to say. She’d mentioned it in a passing comment, even, while complaining about how long the winters were here.
For some insane reason, seeing those bright, colorful flowers collaged across the card pissed him off even more. He didn’t believe for a minute it was a coincidence. He just didn’t realize how significant those flowers were until he opened the card, allowing her to see the cover.
A picture fell out, landing facedown on the table. Katie’s startled gasp was barely heard over the wild pounding of his heart thundering in his ears as he read the scribbled words: Until death do us part.
That bastard was about to get his fucking wish. Cole snatched the picture off the table and turned it over. Smiling up at him was a pic of Katie and Carter. He stood close to her, his beefy arm slung possessively over her shoulder, which was like poking Cole’s green-eyed monster with a big fucking stick.
They were at some sort of a barbecue. Smoke was rolling out of the grill they were standing by. Adults lounged and children played in the background. Katie looked surprised, as if she hadn’t been prepared for the pic, or the man to come up and throw his arm around her. A Bud Light Lime hung loosely in his grasp, resting against Katie’s arm.
He stuffed the pic back inside the card and shoved them inside the envelope. When he glanced back at her, Katie looked like she was about to tip over. Every ounce of color was drained from her beautiful face as she stared at the card on the table beside the box.
“The card, what does it say?”
Win by Submission Page 24