He didn’t need to ask. I’d already chosen. I just had to get my ducks in a row before telling him so.
“I know,” came out on a sob. “I love that about you.”
“We’ll work hard during the week. Fuck hard on the weekends. We’ll have to get creative with the phone sex, but I love a challenge.”
Oh, God. The dimples. “Me, too.”
“Do me a favor?”
“Of course.”
He smirked. “Take off your shirt.”
I obeyed.
“Your pants, too.”
Again, I obliged.
“Now sit there, just like that, and don’t move.”
“What are you up to?”
He pulled his suitcase to the door and stood, leaning against the jamb, arms crossed, taking me in, head to toe.
My room was warm, but I shivered, his assessment stripping me raw, and I wasn’t even wearing my best underwear. “What are you doing, Cole Adams?”
“Committing you to memory. It’s gonna be a long fucking week.” He scratched at his chin, dropped his gaze to the floor, then broke my heart in all the right ways. “I was so fucking scared of losing you. When you were lying on the ground, bleeding, all I could think was, please, God, if you take her, take me, too. I’ve survived burying three loved ones, but you? My heart would’ve stopped on its own. I would’ve joined you in a matter of seconds.”
His admission gutted me then filled me to overflowing with all the good things, those words better than a thousand I love yous. My eyes filled with liquid again. “Are you gonna kiss me goodbye?”
He shook his head, a slow no. “I won’t have the strength to stop.”
I watched him retreat. Waited for the ominous click of the door.
When it didn’t come, I hobbled down the hallway.
Cole stood, hand on the knob, head down. He caught me in his arms. Kissed me hard and deep. And when he’d taken his fill, he cupped my cheeks and whispered, “For the record, when we get this figured out, I want to make a thousand babies with you.”
“How about three?” I said, breath hitched.
“Deal.”
He slipped out the door.
“You’re okay?” Caleb slurred, his lips cut and bruised.
I limped his way, held his good hand, and studied his beaten face. “I’m sorry. So damn sorry. I had no idea he would…” The words caught in my throat, bitter and falling flat. “I don’t even know what to say.”
“Natalie. It wasn’t your fault.” He swallowed, coughed, then clutched his ribs, wincing. “Your boyfriend more than made up for it.”
“What do you mean?”
“He took care of the hospital bill, the damage to my apartment, replaced my car. He didn’t come to ask permission. Just to tell me he took care of everything.”
“Why would he do that?”
His working eye blinked up at me. “Said you shouldn’t have to worry. Said you’d feel like you owed me, and he wanted to carry that burden for you.”
My knees could no longer hold my weight, so I perched my hip on Caleb’s hospital bed.
“He’s a good man.” He coughed, winced. Breathed through the pain. “He’s got it bad for you.”
“I’m a little ruined for him, too.”
Caleb shifted, adjusting his broken arm. “Can I ask you something?”
I reached across the bed to help him tuck a pillow under his cast. “Anything.”
“Why are you here?”
“I don’t understand that question.”
“Why are you here and not with the man who clearly thinks you’re the sun and stars and moon.”
“Because my job. I’m a professional. I can’t just up and leave.” I was going to continue by giving him my two weeks’ notice, but he was clearly on a mission and held up his good hand to keep me from speaking.
“Love is rare, Natalie. Bank jobs are plentiful.”
A nervous laugh escaped. “Is this your polite way of asking me to leave after what happened? Oh, shit.” I sat back, faking a gasp and clasping my chest. “Am I being fired?”
“God, no. You’re an asset.” He reached for my hand, squeezing gently. “Best job decision I ever made.”
He was too easy. Clearly the guy was a romantic, and I couldn’t wait to see how this played out. “Then why this conversation? I just got this promotion. This is a huge opportunity.”
After a long pause and a deep breath, Caleb asked, “Do you love Cole?”
“Yes.”
“Do you love him more than you love Whisper Springs?”
Silly question, but I’d humor my boss. I was the reason he’d been beaten half to death, after all. “Yes.”
“Do you love him more than your apartment?”
“Of course.” I refrained from rolling my eyes.
“Do you love him more than the thrill you get landing a client, surpassing your monthly goals, or being top dog at your job?”
“Yes.” I bit my lip to contain a giggle.
Caleb’s voice lowered to a scolding father level. “Would you love him if he lived in a cardboard box under a bridge?”
“I would.” I crossed my arms, pinched my brows, and teased, “What’s your point?”
With a huff, he growled, “Do you love him more than your pride, Natalie?”
“I can’t imagine loving anyone or anything more than I love Cole.” As the words left my lips, my pulse quickened. Saying those words out loud empowered me somehow. “I love him even more than I love Barolo.”
“What?” He laughed, then winced.
Time to let him off the hook. “I appreciate your concern, Caleb. But honestly? I came here to ask a favor. Oh, and to give my notice.”
Natalie
March 1st.
My birthday.
Our birthday.
Palms sweaty, gut churning, I re-read the string of texts.
Me: I’m so sorry. I can’t get out of this business trip. They threw it at me last minute.
Cole: Fuck, sunshine. It’s our first birthday together.
Me: I tried to get out of it. You’re mad. Please don’t be mad. I’ll make it up to you next weekend.
Cole: Where’s the meeting? I’ll come to you.
Me: I’d love that,
