Page 84 of Tempted Hearts
It wasn’t until we slid into a corner booth that it hit me. Word would spread. Not that it really mattered, but in Cedar Falls, nothing happened without everyone knowing. I almost asked him if that was a problem, then stopped myself. That felt like venturing too close to a conversation we were very clearly not having.
“Morning, Jules.”
Our waitress was a college student I’d taught in a writing class her first year at the local community college. She didn’t know Cole, but her eyes flicked toward him with open curiosity.
And so it began.
“Morning,” I said.
We ordered. We ate. We talked about my story. It was surprisingly nice to walk him through the plot and hear his thoughts. His questions were thoughtful and, not surprisingly, intelligent.
“You have a knack for this,” I told him. “Maybe fiction is in your future.”
“Who knows?” he said. “I do like a good historical fiction book now and again.”
It felt so right, sitting there with him, that I had to remind myself not to let it go on too long. I couldn’t pretend this was nothing, but maybe for today I could let myself enjoy it.
Cole’s phone buzzed just as our coffee refills arrived.
I watched his eyes flick down to the screen, the way his jaw tightened before he turned the phone facedown on the table. He didn’t say anything, but I knew that look. I’d seen it in Milan. The shift. The quiet step backward.
“You can take it,” I said, lifting my mug. “I won’t be offended.”
He hesitated, just long enough to make it obvious he didn’t want to, then nodded. “I’ll be quick.”
He stepped a few feet away, turning slightly so his back was to me. I focused on my coffee.
Still, pieces of the conversation slipped through.
“Hey.”
A pause.
“No, I’m here.”
Another pause, longer.
“Yes, Friday at nine works. I can move the prep call.”
He exhaled.
“No, I’ll be back Thursday night.”
Thursday night.
I didn’t look up. I didn’t need to.
“Because I am,” he said quietly. Then he stopped himself, lowering his voice. “I’ll explain when I’m back in the office.”
When he sat down again, he looked like old Cole. Put together. Composed. Like something had clicked back into place.
“Everything okay?” I asked.
“Yeah,” he said immediately. “Just work.”
We sat there for a moment, quiet.
“I forget sometimes,” I said finally, staring at my plate, “how far away your real life is. Sometimes it feels like you still live in Cedar Falls.”
