Page 24 of Tempted Hearts
He gave me a look. “I’m not a complete monster. Of course I do. This”—he waved his arm—“is not an ideal setup. I’d get a room at another hotel but don’t want to make Parker and Delaney feel bad.”
So that’s what he’d been doing while I was in the shower. Looking for flights. Because the thought of staying in a bedroom with me was that appalling.
“Okay,” I said, heading to the travel jewelry case on the dresser. I fumbled through it, looking for my earrings.
“What’s wrong?”
I was totally unprepared for the question. “Nothing,” I lied. “I mean… I get it. You and I aren’t exactly close so I understand why you might feel strange about sharing a bedroom.”
He was by my side before I’d ever realized Cole got up from the bed.
“You think I’m leaving because I don’t want to stay in here with you?”
I had to, somehow, save face. Giving him my brightest “whatever” smile, I said, “Well, duh. Why else? But it’s fine. You probably have a million things you could be doing instead.”
My smile was rewarded with one of his own. “Like helping Mason pretend he can fix the inn’s back deck without Parker?”
Mason was a lot of things, but handy wasn’t one of them. “That doesn’t sound fun.”
“No. It doesn’t. For what it’s worth, I’m fine staying here. Parker stressed how much you’d been looking forward to this trip. I don’t want to ruin it.”
“You’re not,” I blurted. Realizing… it was true. He was annoying, but fun too. If you had a very eclectic definition of fun.
“Do you want me to stay, Juliette?”
If I reached my arm out, I could touch him, we were that close. What would he look like, I wondered, without those glasses?
“Tell me whatmonellameans, and I’ll say yes.”
That ever-so-slow smile might be the death of me. “Little troublemaker.”
11
COLE
I partially listened to the conversation around me, from my companions and other diners, while marveling at how few people lingered in town when this afternoon had been a crush of tourists. We ate not far from our hotel on a side street lined with cafés and shops. Outside, the night balmy where the day had been downright hot, it was an entirely pleasant experience.
Or it would be, if I wasn’t utterly exhausted.
Although only nine o’clock, it felt like 2a.m. Though I slept on the plane and it was only 3p.m. back home, we had one hell of a day. Plane, train, police station… not to mention the whirlwind that was Juliette Porter.
She was looking over a glass of red wine, halfway to her lips, at Delaney, who re-told Parker a story from their middle school days. Not surprising, really, that she began to take a sip and forget, enthralled by Delaney’s story. From what I knew of her, and had learned in our short time together, Juliette gave 100 percent of herself to… in this case… a story. She was all in, for better or worse.
A dangerous way to live, courting disappointment as she did. But, I supposed, thrilling too. Finally, she remembered to take a sip.
And then she looked at me, disapproving. Because I didn’t join the conversation? Or because I’d considered leaving? It was a half-hearted consideration, and I was self-aware enough to realize I’d only brought it up to see how she would react. And in true Juliette fashion, she gave me the answer I sought.
There was a part of her that couldn’t stand me. That much was obvious. But another part of her…
“Does he do this a lot?” she asked Parker, who studied me like a chemistry assignment he didn’t quite understand.
“Yeah,” he said finally. “He’s probably building a historical timeline of our conversation instead of joining it. Classic Cole.”
“The subject in question,” I reminded them, “is sitting right here.”
“The thing is,” Parker continued, apparently finished with his margarita pizza and prepared to pontificate about my finer, or not-so-finer, qualities, “Cole is totally misunderstood.”
“Is that so?” An amused Juliette showed her skepticism.
