by Jill Sanders
He rolled his eyes at her, then stood up and started pacing in front of her.
“I started out alongside Mason. We went through a kind of boot camp training, but while he just passed his courses, I excelled in everything.” He glanced over at her. “So, I was transferred immediately and began my career.” He sat down next to her.
“As a thief catcher.” She smiled.
“Criminal Investigator Special Agent.” He took her hand. “It’s not like you think. There aren’t fast cars, expensive hotels, fancy suites, or women in every city willing to fall in bed with me.”
“Except Paris,” she added.
His gut twisted. “You weren’t…” Her eyebrows shot up and he smiled. “We have history,” he reminded her.
“Yes.” She looked down at their joined hands. “And it’s because of that I didn’t call the police on you this morning when I found you standing in my kitchen.”
“And here I was thinking it was my cooking skills that stopped you from calling them,” he joked. “You’re predictable.”
“Oh?” she asked, turning towards him.
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to hide your spare keys in a fake rock?” She frowned at him. “I can see by your expression, no.”
She stood up suddenly and walked over to the edge of the small cliff. The view of the city was starting to be hindered by afternoon clouds. “Do your folks know?”
“That you still hide your keys in the fake rock I gave you one Christmas?” he joked.
She turned to him, her hands going to her hips as she narrowed her eyes.
He sighed heavily. “They know my job title and that I travel a lot.”
“So, no.” She turned towards him. “We’d better head back, or we’ll be climbing down in the rain.”
His eyes had been turned towards the plains. When he followed her gaze, he realized the entire sky over the hills and mountains had turned pitch black.
He doubted that they’d make it back to her car without getting soaked. He grabbed her hand, and they started off at a quick pace.
Sure enough, halfway down the hillside, the rain started. He held onto her tightly, catching her when she slipped in the mud or stumbled on a rock. By the time they reached the parking lot, they were completely soaked. The insides of his toes squeaked with every step and water gushed out of the air holes on the side of each shoe when he stepped down.
Ashley unlocked the car, laughing as they jumped inside. He shook his hair, and water splattered all over, causing her to laugh even more.
“I guess we should’ve checked the weather report before heading out.” She started the car.
“We were otherwise occupied,” he said, watching her as she pulled out of the now muddy parking lot.
She glanced over at him occasionally as she drove. The rain had doubled in power by the time they reached her house.
He hadn’t been surprised when he’d found out she’d bought the place. It had always been her favorite house in town. He could see the charms of it, even though it needed some work done still.
The three-story home should probably be a historic landmark. It was one of the oldest places in downtown Golden. Currently, the outside was painted a dull grey. At one point, he remembered, it had been painted a vibrant lime green.
The inside had more potential. It had classic twisting staircases, hardwood floors that just needed some TLC, and a large kitchen that a good remodeling would make shine.
Of course, he hadn’t seen any of the other rooms, but he imagined the rest was just as charming.
“So,” he said, as they still sat in the car, waiting for the rain to let up. “You bought this place.” He leaned over and looked at the house through the rain-splattered windshield.
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I can’t believe it went on the market right after I returned home.”
“So, you’re done with school then?” he asked, casually.
She glanced at him. “Yes, they can teach me to paint like them or some of the greats, but”—she smiled over at him—“someone once told me I needed to find my own style.”
“Did you?” he asked.
“Yes, thanks to you.” She reached for the door handle. “Shall we?”
He glanced up and noticed the rain had lightened up slightly.
They raced up the back pathway and he bumped into her when she stopped just under the back porch.
Laughing, she turned towards him as his arms wrapped around her hips.
Pure delight and shock raced through him when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.
He nudged her back until her shoulders hit the screen door. Her hips moved against him, causing all the blood to rush to one place.
She was fumbling behind her and it wasn’t until he heard her keys drop onto the deck that he realized she’d been trying to unlock her door.
In a quick swoop, he picked up her keys, then unlocked her door. She fell backwards, reaching for him and dragging him inside with her.
Their lips locked again as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Dumping her keys in a small glass bowl on a stand, he tugged her wet jacket off her shoulders as she pulled his off of him.
Their shoes landed with a wet plop on the cement floor, and then it was a game of tug of war with denim. He helped her remove her jeans, and she laughed as she tried to pull his off his legs while wearing only a wet T-shirt and see-through cream-colored panties.
She shoved his T-shirt over his head, then paused. He glanced down at the new scars on his chest. The last time they’d done this, they hadn’t been there.
“What—” she started.
“Later.” He tried to pull her closer then shrugged. “It was nothing major,” he lied.
She reached up and touched the three spots. “It looks like…”
“Yeah, but it isn’t,” he lied again, reaching for her. He tried to distract her by removing her clothes and kissing her.
After all their wet clothes were discarded, they moved out of the mud room off the back of her house and into her kitchen. From there, he lifted her easily in his arms and marched through her living room towards the stairs.
Maneuvering the narrow staircase was a different matter. It twisted at an angle near the bottom, then turned straight near the top. He reached a small landing where a long window seat sat along the wall, and a small hallway led to three doors.
“The end door.” She nodded. He glanced up as more stairs led to the third floor. “My studio is up there,” she answered, “my bedroom is there.” She motioned to the end door.
He headed towards the door and nudged it open. More boxes filled the hallway and were stacked just inside her doorway, as well as along the wall.
Still, there was a king-sized bed, pillows thrown everywhere on it and the comforter in a bundle.
“Still don’t make your bed I see,” he teased as he tossed her down playfully on top of the mess.
“I was in a hurry this morning.” She smiled up at him. “You know, the whole B and E thing.”
He chuckled, then his smile fell away as his eyes roamed over her.
Her bra and panties were see-through, thanks to the rain. He watched as goosebumps rose over her skin as his eyes moved slowly over her.
“Cole,” she warned him, “you’re killing me.” She reached over to her nightstand and pulled out several condom packages.
He laughed. “So, I guess this means I can stay?”
She smiled up at him, reaching for him. “Only if you promise not to sneak out in the middle of the night.”
His heart raced as he thought of the possibility of getting a call, then he remembered and smiled.
“No, I’m all yours.” He let her pull him down.
8
She liked the sound of that. She wanted him with her all night. Maybe even the rest of the weekend. When he covered her, she felt her body shiver with want.
When he touched her, it was like napalm spreading over her skin. Heat forced her goose
bumps away as her skin burned for his touch.
He settled between her legs, and she realized she still had on her wet bra and panties. When she reached to remove them, he held her hands down on the soft mattress.
“I’m in charge.” He smiled down at her. “For now.” His lips moved over her skin.
She lay back, enjoying, burning, as he explored her. When he nudged the wet silk of her bra aside, she moaned as his mouth covered her.
Her fingernails dug into his hair, holding him to her skin as her legs wrapped around his hips.
She didn’t even know she was grinding her hips against him until he jerked, and she felt his hardness against her.
“Please,” she begged, “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.” She reached around and grabbed his ass, pulling him closer to her. Her nails dug into his boxers, tugging until he was free. When she wrapped her hands around him, he stilled.
“Keep that up and this will be a quick ride.” He nudged her hands up again, this time, pinning them above her head. She kicked out, but he shifted and kept her pinned. “Stay still,” he warned softly.
She smiled up at him. “Make me.” She kicked again, this time catching his knee with the hopes of flipping him. They struggled for a while, her blood boiling with every touch. She could tell the moment he relaxed his hold on her, allowing her to twist easily and get on top of him.
“You let me win,” she said, frowning down at him. “That’s no fun.”
He chuckled. “You would have worn yourself out trying.” She usually enjoyed that he knew her so well, but not this time.
Deciding she still had a few tricks up her sleeve, she bent down and showed him just what he’d missed out on the past half year.
Her mouth traveled over him as she scraped her nails down his muscles. She heard him hiss and tense when she took him into her mouth. His hips jerked as she used her tongue to please him. She lost herself in the heat of it until he flipped her over and repeated the torture on her.
“That’s not fair,” she groaned as he ripped her wet panties aside.
“Life isn’t fair,” he said before covering her. This time it was her turn to hiss as he ran his mouth over her. “Cole,” she begged when she couldn’t stand it any longer, “now!”
This time when he moved, she held onto him as he glided into her slowly. The taste of him still on her lips, she arched back and enjoyed his slowed movements as her breath hitched with each thrust.
She let herself go, and she felt him follow shortly after. There was something about feeling the weight of him covering her, her body warm now from his, their breaths matched perfectly, as were their heartbeats.
“Okay, so, there’s that,” he said into her hair.
“Hmm?” she mumbled as her hands slowly moved over his tight butt.
Leaning up, he looked down into her sleepy eyes. “This.” He nodded as his eyes narrowed. “Tell me you’ve never felt… that before.”
A slow lazy smile formed. “What exactly did you feel?”
He made to move away, but she stopped him by holding onto his butt cheeks. “This?” she asked, “The sex or…” She leaned up, placing her lips over his. “This?”
He moaned when her lips met his. “That.” He sighed and moved aside. “I could go for a shower.” He looked down at her, his eyes running over her. “And then maybe we can order some Chinese?”
She leaned up, not bothering to cover herself. Taking his hand, she walked with him into her bathroom.
“Wow,” he said as they entered the newly remodeled room.
“It was the only thing that the previous owners had done. They ran out of money after that and moved back to Kentucky.”
“Nice,” he said, stepping into the large shower with her.
The blue tiled walls were so beautiful, she often spent too long in the shower just enjoying the space. There was a long seat near the back and the shower heads were something most people just dreamed of. Three heads hit every sore spot.
“You plan on doing this to the rest of the place?” He looked around the rest of the room.
She smiled at the new custom countertops and cabinets, the long wall of mirrors, the two custom sinks. There was also a private dressing and makeup area. The room was easily one of her favorite spots in the house.
“Yes.” She sighed as he dumped some shampoo on her head and started scrubbing. She took the bottle and did the same to him.
“Your hair is longer.” She enjoyed the thickness of it all.
“So is yours.” He smiled down at her.
“You could use a shave.” She ran her hands over his stubble-covered face.
He smiled, then reached down and whistled. “So, could you.”
She laughed. “Okay, shaving is on the list for tomorrow.” Her fingers once again moved over the scars. Three distinct angry holes that had been patched up. They hadn’t been there last time, which meant, since Paris, he’d been shot, three times. She knew he’d deny it, but he’d almost died and, for some reason, didn’t want her to know about it. Maybe he didn’t trust her. Or maybe he was embarrassed. Whatever it was, she was determined to get to the bottom of it, sooner or later.
“Agreed.” He leaned in, tucking his face in the crook of her neck. She felt his hot breath on her neck and moaned. Later, she decided.
“If you keep this up, we’ll never eat.”
His lips started moving along with his hands. He nibbled on her skin and she sighed at the feeling of her body responding. “I’m enjoying my meal.” He nibbled on her skin again.
He backed her up until her shoulders were pinned against the tile wall.
By the time they walked out of the shower, she was starved.
“I’ll call in the order,” he said, her blue towel wrapped around his hips as he reached for his cell. He paused and looked over at her. “You wouldn’t happen to have some sweats I can borrow?”
She thought about it as she pulled on her own clean sweats and sweater. “I have a box.” She looked around. “I think there’s an old pair of Aiden’s basketball sweats in there.” She rolled her eyes. “I’m still finding his stuff in my things.”
“I’ll find it.” He pulled open a box. “You call the order in.” He tossed her his phone and started digging through the boxes.
Looking down at his phone, she felt her heart skip when she noticed the background image was of her painting, the one he’d stolen. It really was some of her best work.
She punched in the number for the local Chinese place and ordered her favorites, adding extra for Cole. As she placed the order, she walked out into the hallway. When she hung up, Cole’s hands wrapped around her waist, causing her to smile.
“What’s up there?” He nodded towards the stairs.
“My studio.” She turned and wrapped her arms around him.
“Can I…” He nudged.
She narrowed her eyes. “You aren’t going to steal another painting, are you?”
He chuckled. “Maybe.” He nudged again and they climbed the stairs.
When they arrived at the top, she opened the door and he stepped in. He was silent as he looked around the large room. Here was her absolute favorite spot in the house.
The low ceilings were painted a soft cream color. Since they were arched, no paintings hung on any of them. There were two large skylights, which allowed light in any time of the year.
The end wall was a wall of glass which overlooked her back yard. The room was big enough that along the other end wall she had built-in shelves holding most of her works. Still, there were stacks of paintings leaning against every empty spot.
Her large table desk stood in the middle of the room. On either side, there were easels with her current works in progress. Her desk was filled with paints, brushes, and everything else she used to create her art.
“Nice.” He looked around. She noticed that he wasn’t looking at the space, but at her paintings instead. She stood back, more nervous than she’d been at any showing she�
��d ever had.
Cole was amazed at her use of colors and scenes. He lost himself in each painting. He could hear the ocean in her beach scenes and smell the rain in the forest as it fell.
He moved over to a stack of some more contemporary pieces. Here, there were shapes, shadows, and motions instead of actual scenes.
“Well?” she said behind him.
He realized he hadn’t made a sound since walking into the room. Turning, he smiled.
“I was just calculating where I’d hang them all. Your style has grown so much.” He held up a piece in golds and silvers. “This would look amazing above your fireplace.”
She nodded. “I have a few places for each of these in mind, but I have to unpack all the boxes before I start putting holes in the walls.” She smiled.
Just then, they heard her doorbell ring. He reached for her hand and followed her downstairs. After paying for dinner, he sat beside her on the sofa and watched TV as they ate. She curled up next to him and pulled a blanket off the back of the sofa to cover them.
“This is nice.” She sighed.
“Yes. It is.” He thought about everything he’d gone through in the past few years and decided this was his favorite moment. He held her close and felt when she fell asleep in his arms.
A little over an hour later, he carried her up the stairs, laid her gently on the bed, and crawled in beside her.
He still suffered from insomnia but found himself easily drifting off, listening to her heart beat next to his.
When he woke, it was just before dawn. He heard his phone buzz and groaned slightly. Ashley shifted, wrapping her arms around him further until he was pinned down. Reaching over, he glanced at his phone and frowned at the number.
Gently pulling out of the hold, he rolled out of the bed and stepped out of the French doors onto the small balcony on the side of the house. He shut the door behind him, wishing he’d grabbed his shirt as he answered the phone.
“Yes?” he whispered.
“Your appointment to see Doctor Stiles is today at noon,” the automated voice said before the line went dead.
Damn. He looked down at his watch. He had hoped to have at least the entire day, if not the full month, off with Ashley. How was he going to make his excuses to her without tipping her off that he was going into work?