His brow wrinkles. “Is that wise, with a child in the house?”
I can’t explain my reasons, of course, but even if I could, I wouldn’t appreciate his comment. Evidently Jordan doesn’t either.
“Because you’ve got so many kids to take care of. Idiot! Why don’t you shut the hell up and stop antagonizing my customer?”
“Your customer? The only reason you haven’t drank us into bankruptcy is because of me. I think you need to check the attitude at the door.”
“At least I don’t piss off everybody who walks in here, you asshole.”
Emmy’s hold on my leg gets tighter as their bickering escalates. “I think we’re just gonna grab a seat,” I say quietly, steering my daughter to a stool at the diner-style bar.
Their voices drop to heated hisses as I take Emmy’s jacket off and lay it across my lap. As I’m opening a menu for her to look at, Jason comes to perch on the stool beside mine.
“Did I piss you off? Seriously?” His expression seems contrite, sincere.
“It’s fine,” I reply noncommittally.
“I didn’t mean to. I swear. I was just…I was just showing some concern. That’s all. What I was going to say is that I’d be happy to get you a phone put in if you want.”
I feel Emmy’s head hit my arm, pushing it to the side to lean against my boob. It’s like she’s trying to shrink into me in order to hide. Raised voices make her anxious. And she doesn’t need any help with anxiety. “I appreciate that, but we’re in good shape.”
“You sure?”
“I’m sure. We just came in for a bite of lunch today. That’s all.” I add a smile so that my remark doesn’t seem rudely pointed.
“Oh right right,” he says in another colloquialism that sounds just like his sister. He slaps the bar and stands. “I’ll leave you to it then.”
He nods and turns to leave just as the door opens with a jingle, drawing every eye. In walks Cole Danzer in all his amazing, masculine, heart-stopping glory. His eyes find me immediately, holding on and refusing to let go. I feel short of breath all of a sudden, like he let all the air out of the room when he opened the door.
Seeing him again hits me like a physical blow. I haven’t laid eyes on him in a week. Since the weather has cooled off, he must be doing something else. That or he’s working inside and I just never see him come and go. And I’ve looked. Often. Believe me. But there’s never a car or truck outside, so if he is there, he must live close enough to walk over.
The thought sends thrilling fingers dancing down my spine. Just the idea that he could be that close to me…all the time…day or night…
“Hoooly shit,” Jordan mutters, probably louder than she intended to. Alcohol-induced lack of inhibition, I suppose. “Hiya, Cole.”
Cole lets my eyes go long enough to glance at Jordan and nod. Then they’re back on mine as he approaches.
I’m so absorbed in his arrival, I forget Jason is still close. “And Eden,” Jason says, bending toward me as he speaks. “I’m here if you need any help. The weather can be brutal this time of year.”
I clear my throat and drag my eyes to him, leaning away until he straightens. “I think we’ll be okay, but I know where to find you if not.”
Jason doesn’t make a move to leave. He just turns to face Cole and crosses his arms over his chest. I get the sneaking suspicion it’s his way of staking a claim or something. “How goes it, Cole?” he asks pleasantly enough. While his question is innocent, his body language says all sorts of other things that concern me. It says She’s mine, which I’m not. It says Back off, which I don’t want Cole to do. It also says I’ll fight for her, which I’d hate. All in all, I don’t like what I’m seeing.
Cole stops a few feet away, his blue gaze flickering to Jason. He nods again. “Jason.”
The room is filled with tension. Cole’s expression is much as it always is–curiously blank. Except for the frowns he gives me sometimes, this is the face he wears most often. But it’s not his expression that brings tension to the room. It’s the way he stands in front of Jason, like he’s waiting for him to move, that gives me the sense that, despite the fact that they work together, there is no love lost between these two.
Emmy, as if she can sense the sliceable strain in the air, crawls into my lap and pops her thumb in her mouth. Cole catches the movement in his periphery and glances over at her. His rigid expression softens and his lips curl up. Just at the corners. It’s not a smile, but it must be enough for Emmy, who is peeking up at him from where she’s resting her head against my chest. I see her tiny hand rise and her fingers fold one, twice, three times in a wave.
He glances back up at Jason. No words are exchanged, but Jason shifts to the left, moving out of Cole’s way. Cole straddles a stool two down from the ones Emmy and I are sitting on. He picks up a menu as if to say that whatever else might be going on, whatever undercurrents are drowning the rest of us, are of no consequence to him.
Jason walks off without a word and Jordan makes her way around to drool over Cole, a bee drawn to his unusual brand of honey. She stares at him unabashedly, leaning one hand and one curvy hip on the bar. All she lacks is a wad of bubblegum to pop. “What can I get for you, handsome?”
Cole doesn’t even look up. “I think they were here first. Take their order, but put it on my bill.”
“That’s not necessary,” I say.
Cole shifts his beautiful blue gaze over to me, pinning me with his stare. He doesn’t speak right away. Just melts me with those eyes. “I know. But since you didn’t get your muffins…”
“But that wasn’t your fault.”
He shrugs, his eyes dropping to Emmy. He winks at her before returning his attention to his menu. I look down to find her grinning behind her thumb. What is it about him that fascinates her? I can see it on her face as plainly as I can feel it on mine.
Maybe it’s a genetic weakness that I’ve passed on to her. Like Cole-holism or Cole addiction. He seems to draw her as inevitably as he draws me.
“That’s good enough for me, girls,” Jordan chimes in. “Never argue with a gorgeous man who wants to buy you things.” She beams a bright smile at Cole, who seems not to even notice as he continues studying the menu.
I end up ordering Emmy a grilled cheese and tater tots, not sure that she’ll even eat now, and I get myself a chicken sandwich. Jordan assures me that it’s to die for and the only thing that could make it better is a bloody mary.
“I’d better not, but thanks,” I reply mildly.
“What can I get for you, Cole? Anything you see making you hungry?” she asks, unflappable in her pursuit of his attention. I’m a little embarrassed for her. I’m thankful for her sake that she seems too intoxicated to really care if she’s making a fool of herself.