They agree and I walk off, but I have this strange feeling in my chest. I’m worried about Cole, obviously that was scary, but what I don’t like is the way Cole needed me. The way he wanted me to assure him and be there for him. It makes me think he is more than a jock wanting to get into my pants. I give my head a shake, needing to stay focused. Cole Davis, get out of my head.
Two
Holland
The doorbell rings. I figure Mary, our housekeeper, will answer it.
It rings again.
Dammit.
I pull myself away from my Kindle. I was just getting to an intense reveal in my fantasy novel. I trudge down our bifurcated steps and rush to the door. We don’t really get any company coming over, so it must be an Amazon delivery of my next novel. The delivery person must be a stickler about not wanting the package to go missing.
I get to the door. My dark hair in a messy bun on my head. I’m wearing a white T-shirt and light gray leggings. I look down to the ground expecting a golden-colored envelope, but my eyes land on a pair of Nike running shoes. Why is the delivery guy waiting? I look up to see that it isn’t a delivery guy. It’s Cole Davis holding a huge bouquet of fuchsia roses.
“Hi.” He waves.
“W-what are you doing here?” I ask, feeling thrown off by his presence.
“Uh, I kind of twisted Rebel’s arm to get your address,” he admits.
“Why?” My eyes drop to the bouquet in his hand and then back up to his green eyes.
Damn him for looking so hot in a simple black T-shirt and training shorts.
“Because you saved my life. I told Granny Mae how you saved my life and I was looking for a way to thank you. She said to start with flowers, so here I am,” he says, puffing out his chiseled chest a little. He’s placed extra emphasis on the word start so I wonder how else he plans to thank me. My mind goes to places it shouldn’t and I make a conscious effort to wipe those dirty thoughts away.
My heart melts at his sincerity. “You really don’t have to thank me, it was nothing.”
“It was everything,” he says, placing his free palm over his heart. “You seriously saved my life.” His eyes lock on mine. I don’t like the effect his gaze has on me. It makes me feel weak.
“Do you know what you’re allergic to?” I ask, needing to deflect the intensity of whatever this feeling is between us.
“Eggplant.” He nods. “I’ve never had it before. Apparently, Wolfe was trying to be fancy with his dinner so he got things we don’t normally eat.”
“Well, at least you know now,” I say.
“Yeah,” he agrees and passes me the bouquet. “These are for you.” It’s quite large and classically beautiful.
“Thank you.” I bring the flowers up to my nose and inhale. My stomach sinks a little when I think of how much my mom loved roses.
“Roses were my mom’s favorite flower. I figured since you saved her son, this is her way of thanking you too,” he says. Those are not words I expect to hear from ruthless asshole Cole Davis. He is usually slick on his feet and, well, a gorgeous prick who knows it. This side of him is disarming. “Say something.”
I can’t.
My throat clogs up.
“Are you okay?” He takes a step toward me.
I lift my hand. “I’m f-fine. Roses were my mom’s favorite flower too,” I say.
“Were?” he asks.
“She died when I was fifteen.”
He swipes a rough hand over his mouth. Now he looks choked up. “Mine died when I was sixteen,” he shares.
“That. . .”
“Yeah,” he answers like he knows exactly what I am feeling.
This is too much.
I’m finally able to take a breath and choke out the words, “Thank you for the flowers.”
“Thank you, Holland,” he says with a deep throaty tone.
I don’t like what’s happening here. I’m not doing feelings with Cole Davis.
“Okay, see you,” I say and as I’m about to close the door my housekeeper, Mary, comes up to the entrance.
“What magnificent flowers,” she says excitedly, clapping her hands together. “Aren’t you going to invite your friend in for some sweet tea? It’s a hot day and he was kind enough to bring you this lovely bouquet.” She eyes me and I can see what she is doing. She is really more than our housekeeper. She cared for me while Mom was sick. She berates me for not dating and having a life. This is her meddling.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Cole says. “But I best be going.”
“Don’t be silly,” Mary replies. “You come on in. It would be our pleasure.”
Speak for yourself.
Cole watches me and it is as if his eyes are asking permission. “Please come in,” I invite. I can’t help that my tone lacks enthusiasm.
“Sure.” He takes a step inside the house. “Nice place,” he says looking around.
Mary tells him to follow her and we all head to the kitchen where Mary takes two tall glasses out of a cabinet and then pours the tea.
“Well, I’ll leave you two alone.” She winks at me, thinking she’s done a good thing, and saunters out of the kitchen with a pep in her step.
“So,” I say. This is awkward.
“This sweet tea is really good. My mama was from Georgia so I grew up drinking sweet tea and this stuff is top-notch,” Cole says.
“My mama was from Charleston.”
“Mine was from Milton.”
I nod. We fall silent. Weird that both our mamas were from the South. A heaviness lingers in Cole’s gaze. I haven’t noticed it before and it gets under my skin. Whatever I’m feeling I need to close it down.
“So what are your plans for the weekend?” I ask, trying to come across as friendly. After the hospital, Rebel called me to check in and went on and on about how dinner was a fail. After all of Wolfe’s hard work preparing the meal, I kind of feel obligated to at least try to be friends with Cole. Besides, talking about Mama is not something I do. Especially not with a guy like Cole.
“I’m actually heading to Georgia on Sunday, but I’m pretty sure we’re having a party at the house tomorrow night,” he says.
“Nice. I haven’t been to Georgia since I was a kid.” Mama had taken Paris and me to South Carolina when we were younger and our grandparents were still alive. From there we drove to Myrtle Beach and Savannah. Paris and I loved the ocean and the sand. I remember it being a fun trip.
“It’s really nice. I love staying with Granny Mae. We have the best time,” he says.
I feel fidgety.
“Fun,” I clip. I don’t mean to be curt; I really want to try to be his friend but I feel myself building a wall. Probably because I’m attracted to the douchebag.
Cole watches me carefully. “Thank you for the tea and… uh… saving my life. Seriously. I had no clue about allergies and neither did Rebel or Wolfe. The doc said I could have died if you hadn’t administered that EpiPen.”
“It was really nothing,” I assure him.
“Okay then. I’ll get out of your way.” His teeth dig into his lower lip.
My gaze is drawn to his lips for the briefest of moments before I look him in the eyes and nod. He walks back to the front door and I follow him.