Had Cole decorated in here? Or had his ex? My lips thinned as I thought about the encounter with Aly earlier.
She was beautiful. Of course she was beautiful. Cole was hotter than the vast majority of male specimens on the planet. Of course his ex-girlfriend was gorgeous.
And clearly still in love with him.
Had he loved her too? Had he whispered those three words into her hair as he’d held her in his strong arms in this massive bed?
Before my head could wander too far down a green-eyed—er, toed—path, Cole knocked on the door. “Poppy?”
I jerked out of my daze, whipping my eyes away from his bed. “Come on in.”
His feet were bare as he came into the room. “I just wanted to see if you needed anything.”
“No.” I smiled. “Thank you for your help. I left your towels in the bathroom, but I’m not sure that green is going to come out.”
“I don’t care about the towels.” He stepped past me and sat against the footboard. His hands were braced on the wood at his sides, making the muscles of his arms pop. When he crossed one ankle over the other, I spun around so he wouldn’t see my heated cheeks.
Damn, he was sexy. The image of Cole in that seemingly casual stance would forever be stamped on my brain.
I took a few long seconds to collect myself as I pretended to study his decor. “I like your house.”
“Thanks. I got lucky and bought it for a steal because it was the last house on the block that hadn’t been restored yet. It’s taken me a while, but I’m finally getting it fixed up to this century.”
I nodded and smiled, peeking over my shoulder to see he hadn’t moved. Back came the heat to my face, but this time it didn’t stop at my cheeks—it went all the way down to my core, stirring a desire that had been dormant for a long, long time.
He pushed off the bed. “Want the full tour?”
“Yes, please.” Sheesh. I’d hid my flaming cheeks, but there was no mistaking my breathy voice.
But Cole—in true Cole fashion—just grinned his knowing grin and crossed the room without a word.
I took one last look at his bed. The image of me sleeping naked under his sheets popped into my head, but I shook it away. Why was I thinking about sex with Cole? We hadn’t really even kissed yet—unless you counted the brush of our lips in Brad and Mia’s garage. And even then, that hadn’t been the type of kiss that led to a long, sweaty night together and me waking up in his arms.
My body was getting in front of my head and it needed to slow down. Way down. Which meant I needed to get the hell out of Cole’s bedroom.
Slamming the door on all things sex and kissing and the way Cole’s ass looked in his jeans tonight, I followed him into the hall as he started his tour.
“The master used to be two rooms.” He knocked on the wall as he led me down the hall. “I had one converted into the bathroom and closet.”
I ran my hand along the door as I peeked into the guest bedroom. “I love that you kept all of the original doors and trim.”
“Me too. It was a bitch for the construction crew to get cleaned up but worth the added time.”
Cole lived in an older downtown neighborhood in Bozeman. Unlike my house, located in one of the newer, cookie-cutter subdivisions, homes in this area were filled with character and surrounded by hundred-year-old trees.
The trim and doors were a rich brown, similar to the color of the restored hardwood floors. The crown molding, painted white to match the walls and ceilings, was thick and carved with an intricate pattern absent in new homes. And the old brass-and-glass doorknobs were something people would spend a fortune on now.
After showing me another spare bedroom and bathroom, Cole led me down the staircase situated in the center of the house. Just like upstairs, the old-style charm had been restored and mixed with the luxuries of modern-day life.
The fireplace in the living room had all of the original brick but the mantel had been changed to fit a wide TV. He’d kept the antique chandelier in the entryway but added recessed lighting to brighten the space. And he’d had a couple of walls knocked out, opening up the floor plan to fit larger, more comfortable furniture.
Everything in Cole’s house flowed seamlessly, from the living room to the dining room, then to the kitchen of my dreams.
“This is beautiful.” I ran my hand along the gray-and-white marble counter. He had it all. Shining stainless-steel appliances. A top-of-the-line gas range. Pristine white cabinets. The moment I set foot on the black-and-white checked floor tile, I’d gotten the urge to start cooking.
“I’m afraid to tell you that I’ve hardly used this kitchen since I had it updated.”
I gasped. “Shame on you, Cole Goodman.”
“Maybe you can help me break it in.”
Break it in.
He was referring to my cooking skills, but the visual that flew into my head had nothing to do with food. I saw myself sitting on the counter, naked, with Cole between my legs, his cock buried deep inside of me as I moaned to the ceiling.
A hot wave spread over my shoulders and down my back as I throbbed between my legs. My nipples hardened against my bra, straining against the thin padding, as my eyes wandered to Cole.
He was watching me, his eyes darkening as if he’d seen the same naughty image in his mind. His chest was rising and falling with short breaths and his hands were fisted at his sides—like he was holding himself on his side of the kitchen.
My gaze dropped to his mouth,
