He pulled away, but didn’t let go of her, his gaze fixing on hers. “But then, I think everything you do is charming,” he said softly. And before she had a chance to respond, he tilted his head back toward the house and added, “Come on. I’ll show you around.”
The hand cupping her neck slid over her shoulder, dawdling long enough on the spaghetti strap of her dress for him to murmur, “Pretty,” before skimming down her arm to tangle his fingers with hers. The cicadas kicked up a fuss as they walked, their chatter swelling to a loud crescendo before falling back to a manageable volume. The breeze ruffled the leaves of a huge maple tree in the front yard, and somewhere in the distance, a tiresome woodpecker tap-tap-tapped for his dinner. Something warm and contented settled around her heart, and she closed her eyes for a second, inhaling a deep breath and holding it inside, thinking maybe by doing so she’d keep a little bit of the moment inside her forever, too.
Then she opened her eyes again to see Cole looking at her, a soft smile playing about his mouth. “It’s nice, isn’t it?” he murmured.
She nodded, but said nothing.
“It reminds me a lot of the farm where I worked when I was a teenager.”
“In Virginia?” she asked.
“Yeah.”
“I never would have guessed that’s where you’re from.”
He stopped walking, even though they hadn’t yet reached the walkway leading up to the house. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Lulu. Which was why I wanted you to come here tonight. So you could see the real Cole Early.”
“I’ve spent the last week with Cole Early,” she said softly, sobering a little. “I think I’ve seen the real him by now.”
He started to shake his head, then hesitated. “Once,” he told her. “You saw the real me once. When I made love to you.”
She felt her face flame at the reminder. “Cole…”
“You saw more of the real me that day than I show anyone,” he interrupted. “But you haven’t been spending your time with Cole Early for the past week, Lulu. You’ve been spending it with…” He blew out an exasperated breath. “With King Cole. The guy that the fans and the press like to see. Tonight, that won’t be the case. Tonight, you’ll be seeing the real me again.”
She straightened. “Don’t you think you’re presuming a lot here? I mean, just because of what happened in my studio…”
He grinned. “I’m certainly not ruling that out, but that’s not what I meant. I meant that this”—he swept his arms wide and did a slow three-sixty, encompassing the entire farm as he went—“is a lot like the place I call home in California. Yeah, the flora, fauna, and landscape are different, and we don’t have these damned cicadas—” As if insulted by his words, the cicadas’ prattle swelled loudly for a moment, then receded, making him smile. “But for the most part,” he continued, “Mayhew Farms of Shelby County is like Early Farms in Temecula.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “This is much more my life than what you’ve seen this week.” He tilted his head toward a long stable a few hundred feet to the left of the house. “Let me introduce you to the boys and girls, and then we can work our way gradually back to the house.”
The boys and girls turned out to be horses, of course, but no Mr. Eds were these. Some of them, Cole told her, had been insured for millions of dollars. That was because some of them had already earned millions of dollars and still had quite a bit of racing time left. Lulu had never been a big fan of horses, though she did always catch her breath whenever she was driving somewhere near a farm and saw some of the majestic beasts running over hill and dale. Up close like this, she realized they were even bigger than she’d thought. They were enormous, powerful animals, all muscle, muzzle, and shimmering coat…with lovely brown eyes and long, long lashes that tempered her fear a little. Cole was completely relaxed with them, rubbing their noses and talking to them in gentle tones, chuckling when one of those big muzzles nudged his hand, and laughing outright when their heads bumped his.
Lulu could never be that comfortable with them, but neither was she quite as intimidated seeing how affectionate they were with him.
“Ready to saddle up?” he asked when he saw her watching one of the larger creatures.
She wondered if the blood actually drained from her face as quickly as it felt like it was fleeing. “What?”
He laughed even harder at her expression. “Don’t worry, Lulu, I won’t make you ride if you don’t want to. Besides, I sure as hell wouldn’t start you on one of these guys.”
“I don’t want to start on any of your guys,” she told him. “They’re beautiful, but I’m not a horse person.”
“Fair enough,” he said. “I’m not an art person.”
Well, she didn’t know about that. She’d been thinking he was a work of art since the moment she met him.
He buried his hand in the big animal’s mane, and it turned its head toward him in a way that was clearly playful. “Maybe someday you’ll want to learn to ride,” he said a little absently.
Maybe. But she doubted it. “Maybe someday I’ll try my hand at equestrian art,” she said instead. “Or maybe someday you will.”
He smiled at that. “Maybe I will.”
From the stable, he took her on a quick tour of the grounds
