“No,” came my knee-jerk response. “We can’t keep doing this.”
His lips landed on my forehead, warming my soul. “We can do whatever we want, sunshine.”
I couldn’t respond. Leaving hurt too much.
“We’re supposed to be together. Haven’t you figured that out by now?” He pulled me closer. “It’s fate,” he mumbled, voice sleepy.
I was beginning to hate that word. “Fate is bullshit,” I whispered into the dark.
He chuckled, his chest vibrating.
A wave of anger crashed over me. “It’s not funny, Cole.” I rolled to face him. “It’s bullshit. All of it. If fate was on our side, we would’ve met before her. If fate was on our side, I wouldn’t live in another state. I wouldn’t get to touch you only once every couple of months. Don’t you get it? All the shit that’s happened since we met? Fate is cruel, vindictive. She’s punishing us for what we did.”
With a curse, he was over me, his hips between my thighs. He cupped my face with trembling fingers. “What did we do, Natalie? Tell me, what did we do but try to fight this thing between us?”
“I wanted you when it was wrong.” Guilt spilled down my cheeks, wetting his fingers.
“We fought it. You moved away. I married the monster. We did the right thing. We fought. So what does fate have to punish us for?”
I shook my head. Against his reason. Against the emotion. Against the unbearable, biting pain in my chest.
Cole rose from the bed and headed to the bathroom. I rolled over, contemplating an escape. On his nightstand sat a short crystal vase stuffed with red peonies. Heart meet steamroller.
Footsteps. The mattress sank behind me.
I couldn’t hide the tremble in my voice when I asked, “Why do you have peonies?”
With one strong arm, he pulled me flush against his body. “You know why.”
I didn’t. Nothing made sense. “I don’t understand.”
“They’re your favorite. And they bring life to this dull home.”
My favorite. How did he know? Wiggling free of his heavy arm, I flipped to face him again. “You have to order them weeks in advance this time of year.”
Oh, sweet Jesus, his dimples close up were mind numbing. “I have a standing order.”
What man did such things? “Since when?”
He traced the curve of my hip with his fingers, glanced at the flowers, then back to me. “Since Leon’s Baptism.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought I’d never see the sun again, but there you stood, bright and feminine as a goddamn peony. My fucking sunshine.” He laughed, licked his lips, then his smile disappeared. “They remind me to breathe when my chest gets too heavy. Help me remember the sun is still shining when I’m lost in the dark.”
I stared at his lips, his gaze too potent, his confession breaking me in two.
Forehead to mine, he begged, “Please, stay until morning. I’ll make you breakfast. We’ll talk.”
No hung on the tip of my tongue.
I hadn’t the will to deny him, lacked the strength to say goodbye again.
I snuggled into his naked warmth.
When his body softened, melting into the mattress, I kissed his cheek and slipped out of bed. Before leaving, I dug the small wrapped box out of my handbag and placed it next to the vase on his nightstand.
“Merry Christmas,” I whispered, then made my way home.
Natalie
No expense had been spared for my uncle’s retirement party. The ballroom took my breath away. Square four-tiered crystal chandeliers dangled from the ceiling. Bronze paneled walls hid blue mood lights. Four mirrored columns framed the pristine white marble dance floor. I stood on the edge, watching guests sway and twirl to the live orchestra tucked in the corner of the massive room.
“Natalie.” An arm came around my waist. “My favorite niece. How’s the new job?” He dipped to accept a kiss on the cheek.
“Uncle Joe.” I leaned into his embrace. “Love the job. Kicking ass and taking names.”
“That’s my girl.” He looked out into the sea of moving bodies. “I’m so glad you’re here.”
A photographer floated around the ballroom, recording the festivities.
“Wouldn’t have missed it for the—wait.” My heart dropped three inches. “Why is Cole Adams here, and who is he dancing with?”
I studied the tall, curvy beauty in his arms. Dark hair fell in soft waves down her back. Small waist, ample bottom, long, toned legs. She moved effortlessly in a pair of—I ducked to get a better look—yep, Louboutin.
Cole held her intimately but not too close. But his smile. That rare, beautiful smile was all for her.
“Cole Adams?” Joe asked, his thick, white brows rising. “You know him?”
“Yes. We’re friends-in-law,” I said.
“What?”
“Never mind.” I grabbed my uncle’s wrist and begged, “Who’s the woman?”
“Oh. That’s—”
“Joe King,” came a deep voice from a short man wearing too many gold rings and one infectious grin.
Joe laughed. Then men embraced. Introductions were made.
And just like that, my uncle left me standing like a jolly green jerk, elated to see the man I’d walked away from, deflated by the stunning woman in his arms, and so shamefully envious that she brought his dimples out to play.
“Here ya go sweetie. Barolo.” Dad stood next to me, wine glass in one hand, whiskey neat in the other, looking sharp as ever in his new suit. “Who ya staring at?”
“Thanks.” I retrieved my liquid courage from his hand, then pointed to the crowded dance floor.
“Oh great! Cole’s here,” Dad shouted. He slapped my back. “Small world, huh?”
I lifted the glass to my lips. I hadn’t seen Cole since Christmas. Four weeks had passed since I’d left him sleeping in his bed. We’d texted. He’d called me at the stroke of midnight for New Year’s. He’d kept the conversations short and sweet. How was your day? I bought a new building yesterday. Your dad kicked my ass at squash. Leon puked all over my Brioni suit.
Not once did he ask where I lived, or worked, or if I missed him. We never broached the subject of dating or
