“Every day. I’m the guy women are friends with, and I’m good with that. I don’t need you to pretend otherwise. Truth be known, I’m rather disappointed that you thought you had to.” How a voice could be filled with so much confidence, when issuing those words, she didn’t know.

  She didn’t get it, either. Cole wasn’t male model gorgeous. He was so much more than that.

  “I didn’t think I had to do anything where you and your looks are concerned,” she said, segueing as far away from her own exposure as she could, seeing that she hadn’t meant to say out loud that she’d been spending way too much time thinking about going to bed with her new friend. “But now I’m wondering what on earth gave you the idea that I wouldn’t find you attractive.”

  “Seriously? We’re going to do this?” He glanced her way, shook his head briefly, and, not only had he thrown her own “seriously” comment back at her from the week before, but she thought she saw a grin on his face, too.

  What the hell!

  “Okay, let’s go then,” he said when she remained silent. “You’re a beautiful woman. From the time I was in junior high, I’ve had the phone numbers of more beautiful women than I can count. And they were calling me—it wasn’t me calling them. To talk about their love lives. With other guys.”

  “Yeah,” she said, when he seemed to think he’d said enough. “You’re sensitive to how people feel. It’s a given they’d come to someone who’d understand. But also, you were someone who was a member of the opposite side, so could, by nature of that, offer actual counseling, not just sympathy.”

  She was speaking as a friend. And not as the beautiful woman he’d called her.

  “Did you ever think about, maybe, calling someone and asking her out?” Not her her, not Lindsay, but...maybe Lindsay. If things with her father took a miraculous turn and she’d actually be visiting Shelter Valley now and then when her leave of absence from Warren-Smythe’s life was over, it could happen.

  Now she was pandering. To herself.

  “Hundreds of times.”

  “Did you actually do it?” She couldn’t take her eyes off him.

  “Yes.” He was grinning. Which made her stomach drop in the way it did when she wanted her body to know his body better.

  “And?”

  “We ended up as friends.”

  “Then you know the wrong women.”

  His shrug seemed easy. As did the glance he sent her. “I actually like who I am,” he told her. “I love my life.”

  The truth rang so strongly in his words, she didn’t know what to say to that. She certainly couldn’t apply those same words to herself.

  Proven by the fact that she was there, knowing him.

  “You really expect me to believe you’ve never been in a long-term intimate relationship?” The bohemian was going to have to be reined in sooner, rather than later.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  That news made her heart take a dive. Which made no sense at all when she was busy convincing him he could have any woman he wanted.

  “You were in one?” She had to verify. Just to keep the facts straight.

  “I was engaged.”

  Was.

  “What happened?” Best to know the details before envying the unknown female. Or...horror struck...had she died? And Cole’s heart was forever taken?

  “Engagement photos, newspaper announcement, wedding plans. Registered for gifts, sent invitations, church booked, tux purchased, rehearsal dinner, wedding morning rush, guests arrived, and I walked in and stood, watching the bridal party come up the aisle, waiting for my bride to appear.”

  He shrugged. Shook his head. Sent her a grin.

  And stopped talking.

  “She didn’t appear?” Horrified, she stared at him. Glanced back at Lillie, as though the dog would give her some clue as to what to do next. Lillie was watching out the front windshield.

  “Nope.” With a sideways head tilt he added, “She was there, but instead of heading up the aisle, she ran out the side door. I found her, five minutes later, sitting in a pool of white satin and lace on a swing on the church playground, crying her eyes out.”

  Enthralled, in a horror movie kind of way, she asked, “What did you do?” Seeing a road sign that let her know they were already halfway back to Shelter Valley, she quickly returned her gaze to Cole. Didn’t want their time together that day to end so soon. Wasn’t ready to be done with him until the next time.

  “I listened to her, of course. And then counseled her to change her clothes, hold her head high and get out there and find the life that was waiting for her.” She stared at him. From his easy expression, the lack of tension in his face or neck, the nonchalant way he held the wheel with one hand...he really was as fine about it all as he sounded.

  “You told her to leave you?”

  “She loved me—she just wasn’t in love with me.”

  “So why did she agree to marry you?”

  “She didn’t want to lose me.”

  Oh.

  “Thing was, I understood. I didn’t want to lose her. And with a little time putting things into perspective, I realized I wasn’t in love with her, either. I loved her. And I was in love with the marriage and family part of it.”

  “How much time did it take you to get to that realization?”

  “Thirteen days.”

  “You counted the days?”

  With another grin, a huge one, he reached a hand over his shoulder, and patted the head that was instantly there, as though Lillie knew he’d been calling to her.

  “No, I adopted Lillie thirteen days later and that night—with a six pack of beer for me, and the timed medications for her—I was telling her my sad life story when the truth came tumbling out.”

  He chuckled. Lillie nosed him in the shoulder.

  And, choking back tears, Lindsay laughed.

  * * *

  Still in a flux over Lindsay’s sudden “hots” confession, Cole was glad to turn the heat in an entirely different direction. Even if it put him on the hot seat.

  He was glad to hear her laugh. Laughter, he was good at. Creating it. And living with it.

  A gorgeous woman having the hots for him, not so much. He could handle the assuaging of the heat just fine, if it ever came to that. Had no doubts about his prowess in that area. Nicky had told him more than once that he was her best sex, ever. Not since Josh was in the picture, of course.

  Because neither of them had talked about it.

  No, it wasn’t the fact that Lindsay Warren found herself attracted to him that was the problem. It was the rest of it.

  His falling in love with the idea of marriage and kids, and her falling in love with being his friend, were the concerns. He’d lived through the humiliation of being left at the altar once.

  It wasn’t happening again.

  And so, because Lindsay seemed entertained by the Nicky story, he continued on with it as he got them back to Shelter Valley. Telling her about his recent invitation to be godfather to Nicky’s soon to be born son.

  “You’re what now?” she asked, staring at him.

  Because he’d had the same reaction, he grinned at her. “I know, kind of weird, right? But she’s my best friend, I’m hers, so...there you go.”

  The sudden flash of disappointment he thought he saw on Lindsay’s face before he had to get his gaze back to the road hit him hard enough that he couldn’t let it go.

  Wondered what it meant.

  Why mention of a best friend would upset her.

  And added the unanswered question to the pile of them that had been accumulating in the nine days he’d known her.

  “You want to come home with us for dinner?” He asked a question for which he was certain he’d at least get an answer, even if it was a negative one, as he pulled off the highway and onto the ramp that would lead them back into town.

  “What are you having?”

  “We can stop at the deli and I’ll run in and get a sampling of every salad they have in the case, and do a taste test if you want.” Ideas just seemed to flow when she was around.

  “You’re on.” Lindsay was smiling again, for real, petting Lillie again, too, as he pulled up out front of the Shelter Valley Deli. Leaving the car running for the air conditioning the females inside would need, he headed inside. Filled with more anticipation than was good for him.

  Lindsay saying she had the hots for him aside, the woman was calling to him in a way that concerned him. Like when a human resources employee had found out her husband, who also worked at Elite Paper—in the manufacturing plant—had been having an affair with a dancer in Phoenix. Professionally, Cole hadn’t been able to do anything about that. Being a disrespectful jerk of a husband wasn’t reason enough to fire someone. But he’d helped the woman out with extra vacation days when she’d needed time off to move into her own place and get through the divorce.

  Something was going on with Lindsay Warren. The obvious conclusion was that she was running from something.

  He wanted to be there for her.

  To have her trust him enough to confide in him so that he could help.

  In all honesty, he wanted to assuage her hot situation, too.

  Beyond that, he just wanted.

  And that did not please him at all.

  Chapter Seven

  Lindsay had never met a man more comfortable in his own skin. Nor had she known how much of a turn-on that was. Cole had manners and decorum, but they didn’t seem to rule him, as such traits did in the society in which she’d grown up.

  He burped once after dinner, clearly a surprise to him as he opened his mouth to speak and the sound of rushed air came out. Instead of hiding behind his hand, bowing his head, quietly excusing himself, he laughed. And said, “Well, there you have it, my table manners at their best, and in other news, excuse me.”

  She laughed out loud. At the sound. Burps were funny, why not just admit that and accept them as a part of life?

  And she laughed at him, too. The words, the tone of his voice, the look on his face, the infectious smile...

  And in her own other table news, she passed the taste test, naming all but one of the salads he fed her, a forkful at a time.

  He won the contest, though, when she insisted on feeding him, too. She mixed two salads together, thinking she’d trip him up, but he was onto her just from the scent.

  Told her so before she got the fork through his lips.

  Which stopped her forward progress for the second it took her to stare at the open lips so close to hers. His teeth were perfect, white and straight, and that tongue—strong and lean—looked as though it could pleasure a woman’s parts in any way she’d ever want...

  His mouth came closer to the fork she held. Eyes closed, he wouldn’t have known where...she glanced up, saw him watching her, and the fork in her hand started to shake.

  Cole’s mouth continued coming closer. Her fork moved to the side. His lips didn’t follow it. They were heading closer to her, as were the eyes gazing into her own.

  Frozen in place, melting inside, she waited.

  The first touch changed her. His lips, soft, but firm, gently coaxed hers, and they fell to his power. Wanting to go wherever he went. Open, closed, hungry, holding back. She took and she gave it all. His knees touched hers, as they sat facing each other on the stools at his kitchen bar. Their lips did more than touch.

  His tongue entered her mouth as though it belonged there, knew where to go and how to make her want more.

  And she answered with a moan that escaped before she’d been aware it was coming.

  Hungrier than she’d ever been in her life, she pressed her lips harder against his, needing her breasts pressed up against his chest and...

  A wet push against the underside of her hand knocked the potato-and-bean-salad-filled fork. She heard it hit the floor. Pulled back.

  And stared into the big brown eyes looking up at her with wisdom. Knowing. And a refusal to allow her to ignore either.

  “Well, there you go,” she said, breathless. Slipping off the stool, she reached for the fork. Watched as Lillie cleaned up the mess.

  And saw Cole’s thighs as he vacated his stool and moved over to the sink.

  “I’m not going to apologize,” he said, rinsing the fork he’d taken from her mostly numb fingers.

  “I know.” She wasn’t, either.

  “Good, that’s all cleared up then.”

  The salad mess she’d made? The apology issue? Or the kiss itself?

  Afraid of the answer, of where it could lead, Lindsay left well enough alone.

  * * *

  Cole told himself not to notice the hardness of Lindsay’s nipples through the tight short-sleeved white top she had on. Or to catalog the news that she wasn’t a padded bra woman.

  He did both, anyway. Stood by the sink, running cold water over a very clean fork, until he could round the corner without his hard-on being as obvious as her breasts.

  He thought about burping again just to change the mood, but couldn’t get enough air sucked into his lungs to make it happen. She took care of the immediate problem for both of them, moving away from the kitchen to look at the collage of pictures he’d scattered over the wall in the adjoining family room.

  When Lillie didn’t follow their guest, but rather sat staring at him, he knew he was in more trouble than he’d thought.

  Patting her head, he tossed her a treat, and a silent you did good nod, knowing that she’d broken up the kiss on purpose. She’d obviously sensed his emotional upheaval.

  At least that was the theory he was choosing to adopt. Could be the girl had just been going for the salad that had lowered to within grasp of her mouth.

  “Wait,” Lindsay said, staring at a small black-framed photo, similar to about twenty others along the wall. “You went to the Sandra Day O’Connor College of Law?”

  Arizona State University’s law school in Phoenix, though she might not know that. He’d forgotten the photo was up there.

  He nodded. Sipped from the one bottle of beer he was allowing himself before he drove her home.

  She shook her head. Stared at him. “And then, what, you just didn’t take the bar exam?”

  “I took it.”

  “No way you didn’t pass.”

  He smiled at that. Couldn’t help himself. Passing the bar was no easy feat. Classmates he’d expected to breeze through much more easily than him had failed the first time.

  “I passed.”

  “You’re a lawyer?” Her voice almost squeaked with surprise.

  He shrugged. Nodded. Sipped.

  “And...that’s Brent Wilson in the graduation photo with you?” That question held emotion. Not surprise. And not anything that sounded good. Though why she’d be dismayed that his boss had attended his law school graduation, he had no idea. “I thought you’d gotten to know him because you work for him...”

  Why it should matter to her, he didn’t know, but paid attention to the fact that it did. She’d said no work talk. Didn’t want any hint of impropriety.

  Was she afraid he was a spy for his boss? More in with the man at the top than he’d led on? That he’d kiss and tell?

  Didn’t make a lot of sense given the fact that he’d be tattling on himself as well.

  “He treats you like family...Lillie thinks his house is her second home...you help him serve at his parties...are you related to him?”

  The look on her face was definitely not pleasure.

  More like horror, though he was fairly certain his normal intuitive senses were on the fritz at the moment. Given their recent...encounter.

  Obviously hers were, too. A part of him gloated for a second over that realization. The rest of him kind of panicked. He had to get it all shut down.

  Immediately.

  “No, I’m not related to him.” He started with the easiest, most obvious answer. And was surprised to see the immediate softening of her features.

  Relieved was more like it. They were both on overload. Just needed a minute or two to recover equilibrium. If he’d been talking to a friend who’d come to him about her reactions to being kissed, he’d have known instantly that the ensuing reactions would be subject to error. Would have counseled her to relax. To not overreact.

  Lindsay was still looking at the photo.

  “My parents moved to Shelter Valley when I was ten,” he told her. “They were both stationed at the air force base in West Phoenix and had decided, because of my lack of fitting in due to all the moving around and my overly large size, that I needed a more stable home life. With both of them being colonels at that point, their travel obligations were less. And then one thing led to another, promotions, different responsibilities that were good for their careers meant that they were both on deployment a lot more. Brent and Emily had become friends with them, and they watched over me whenever my mom and dad were both gone at the same time. I was sixteen by then, fine on my own, but Brent made me his personal business.”

  “So you gave up law practice to pay him back?” She seemed to find something distasteful about that.

  “No. I keep my license current, and my education, too, and use my law degree to counsel employees, and Brent, in terms of law changes and best practices in personnel situations. And, when asked, I strategize with Elite’s full-time business lawyer. I’m the one who chose to work for Elite. Brent fought me all the way, wanting me to take a partnership position I’d been offered at a prominent Phoenix firm. The law interests me. Fighting, defending, prosecuting, making deals, does not. Brent is all about the people, the quality of the workplace and of the product. The man’s a genius when it comes to earning. He just spends more on quality than most would. And that’s the kind of world I want to work in.”

  The shell-shocked look on her face told him he’d gone a little too far in his defense of his mentor and boss. Had been too intense in his delivery.