Till Death(15)

Or why he was here.

“And he called you about . . . about me?” I asked, folding my arms across my waist. It was that moment when I remembered I was wearing a sweater that most likely added twenty pounds to me. Nice. At least I’d brushed my hair earlier.

Cole nodded, started to step forward again, but stopped. “Do you have time to talk?”

Opening my mouth, I stopped myself a half a second before I said no. That was my first instinct. To shut down communication with him, because that was what I’d done before, what I always did when I felt even the littlest bit confronted by my past.

But Cole wasn’t the bad guy.

He had never been the bad guy.

I drew in a shaky breath and then ran the tip of my tongue along my bottom lip. “Okay. I mean, yes. I have time.” I gestured toward the opening with a trembling hand. “We can sit in there.”

“Perfect.” His gaze remained on me for a few moments, long enough to cause my cheeks to flush, and then he turned.

So many questions rose to the surface as we walked out in the sitting area. Did he still live here or had he driven in? Was he still a cop or had he made it to federal level, like he had planned in college? Did he get married and have kids?

My heart was still racing as I made my way to the wingback chair near the fireplace. As he sat across from me, my gaze dropped to his left hand. I didn’t mean to. I had no control over it. I zeroed in on his ring finger. No wedding band or indentation indicating one was recently removed.

My stupid heart did Mom’s version of a happy dance.

Okay. I really needed to not be concerned with any of that, because that was an extreme case of putting the cart before the horse.

Cole checked out the sitting room. “This place has really changed.” His gaze settled on me. “I haven’t been back here since . . . well, since you left.”

“Me either.” I mentally cursed. Of course I hadn’t been here. He knew that. I was frazzled. Sitting across from one another was almost too overwhelming. Part of me wanted to get up and run. The other half was curious . . . and excited. My stomach dipped again.

Way too excited.

“You didn’t come back, not even once?” he asked, rubbing the heel of his palm across his sternum.

Inhaling deeply, I shook my head. “No. My mother visited me. So did Miranda.”

“Miranda.” The corners of his lips tipped up and then quickly straightened out. “I remember her. It’s good to know you did keep in touch with her.”

He actually sounded like he meant that, and I found that strange considering I’d disappeared on him. I couldn’t blame him if he harbored resentment. He’d done nothing wrong and I—well, I had been a mess.

I started to respond, but I couldn’t believe he was actually sitting here in front of me. Those thick lashes lifted, and our gazes collided. I quickly averted my eyes, focusing on his shoulder as I clasped my hands together. “So, um, why did Derek contact you?”

He dropped his hand to the arm of the chair as he laughed or coughed under his breath. I wasn’t sure. “Derek was young back then, but he knew you and I were seeing each other. He remembered who you were.”

“Oh,” I whispered, shifting my attention to the fireplace. Looking at him was . . . God, it was hard, too hard. He represented a future that never came to fruition.

“He remembered how much I was into you,” he continued. “Everyone in my family knew it.”

Whoa.

Wow.

He just put that right out there.

The gas-created flames rippled behind the glass as I tried to figure out how to respond to him. Guessing it wouldn’t be cool for me to admit I tried to Facebook stalk him one or twenty times with no success over the years, I decided it was time to change the subject. “So, he’s a cop like you?” I peeked at Cole, finding him watching me intently. I wasn’t sure he’d taken his gaze off me for longer than a few moments. “Or are you not a cop anymore?”

“I work for the FBI now,” he explained.

My smile wasn’t forced as it raced across my face. “That’s what you wanted to do. Congratulations.”

“Back at you.” He slid a long-fingered hand along the teal arm of the couch. “You’re finally doing what you always planned.”

I blinked, jolted by the fact he remembered this piece of information about me. “Yes. I . . . I am.” Our eyes met again, and I coughed out a laugh. “I’m sorry. I’m just—I didn’t expect you.”

“That’s understandable. I probably could’ve waited a day, but when Derek told me you were here . . .” He trailed off, dipping his chin as he looked up at me through his lashes. “I didn’t want to wait. I had to see you. After so long, I had to see that you were really . . . okay.”

See if I was okay.

Oh man, my heart swelled and deflated at the same time, and I didn’t even know what to make of those conflicting emotions. His concern was as sweet as a warm spring day and it was as suffocating as an itchy blanket.

“You look amazing,” he said, and then he laughed as my eyes widened. “That was awkward, wasn’t it? I don’t care. It’s the truth. You’re as beautiful—no, more beautiful than I remembered.”

My entire face burned as my lips parted.