Pocketful of Sand(54)

“I’ll be back across the street tomorrow,” he responds vaguely.

“And today?”

I see his pause. I see his hesitation. I’ve overstepped.

“Today, I’ll be at the beach.”

It’s Sunday.

“Building a sandcastle?”

He nods once, his brow furrowing like it’s done so often since I’ve known him. The thing is, I haven’t seen him frown much in the last few days.

“We, um, we could come and help if you want. Or if you’d rather do it by yourself…” I let the sentence trail off, flabbergasted at my audacity. What the hell is wrong with me? It’s like I own him, like he can’t spend a minute without me or have a day that’s unaccounted for.

“Thanks, but–”

“Oh, God! I’m so sorry! Listen to me! I sound like a controlling fruitcake. Just forget I said anything,” I plead, covering my face with my hands. How. Humiliating. If he ever wondered whether I’ve had any kind of normal relationship in the past, I’m sure he has his answer now.

Cole pulls my hands from my face. His expression is kind, but inscrutable. “Don’t apologize. I want to be with you. But,” he adds, his smile small, “this is just something that’s…it’s just something that I have to do on my own.”

“I understand, Cole. Truly I do. I don’t know why I even offered.” I shake my head.

“Because you’re caring and fun and you want to be with me, too.”

I neither confirm nor deny his assumption, but he’s right. I do want to be with him.

“I’ll pick you up at six. And wear something formal. You’ve never been to Bailey’s at night.”

For a split second, I wonder if he’s serious. “You’re kidding, right?”

His laugh is a short bark. “Of course I’m kidding. Have you seen Bailey’s? You don’t even have to have teeth to get served in there.”

“Good point,” I concede. “I just wanted to make sure.”

Cole leans into me where I’m sitting on the bed. “If it were up to me, you could come naked. You’d be the best dressed person there. But there’s Emmy. And the police, of course. It probably wouldn’t end like I’d want it to–with you riding my cock at the bar.”

I screw up my face. “Is that what you think about when you ask me to dinner at Bailey’s?”

“Don’t look at me like that. If you weren’t so delectable, so irresistible, so damned addictive, I wouldn’t think about you all the time like I do. It’s your own fault.”

He bends his head to nip at my breast with his teeth. “If you’re leaving, you’d better stop right there,” I warn.

His sigh is long and loud. “Fine. I guess I’m going. I had a good reason, right?” he teases.

“Emmy.”

“Right right. A very good reason.”

I grin as he pecks me hard on the mouth and walks away like I took his favorite toy.

I think to myself after I hear the front door shut and snap locked that he’s not the only one who’s addicted.





TWENTY-FOUR


Cole



MAYBE COMING TO Bailey’s was a mistake. I expected the whispers and the long, odd looks, but I never expected to feel so…possessive. I find myself glaring at any man who stares at Eden for more than ten seconds. And there are a lot of them. Bailey’s is the only place to eat in the whole town. It has a pretty big crowd on the weekends.

It doesn’t help that my mood was a little testy to begin with. I didn’t really want to leave Eden’s this morning. I wanted to stay, to play with her beautiful breasts, to lick her satiny skin, to reach deep inside her body with mine and drag out moans and gasps from her unwilling lungs. That constant want left me distracted when I went to the beach.

After that, I came home and showered, torn between thoughts of what Eden’s body would look like all wet and soapy, and the * that I am for finding some amount of happiness when my own daughter can’t.

All in all, it left my mood a little sour before we even arrived at Bailey’s. And now I’m having to contend with all the locals drooling over my beautiful date.

“Are you okay?” Eden asks as we take a seat at one of the few booths available in Bailey’s.

“Of course. Why?”