CHAPTER 21
Savannah slipped out of bed, leaving Cole to sleep a little longer. He looked so at ease when he slept, so carefree, she couldn’t bring herself to wake him even though he was already running late for work.
She made coffee and scrambled eggs, adding a palmful of shredded cheese they way he liked it. Just as the toast popped from the toaster, Cole emerged from the bedroom, his hair rumpled like a little boy’s. It did funny things to Savannah’s stomach. She wanted to rake her hands through that hair, and plant a kiss on his mouth. Instead she stood there watching him.
“Why didn’t you wake me?” he asked, running a hand across his hair, though his attempt at smoothing it was pointless. Eight hours of sleep had styled it for him. None of his attempts would change that.
“I was about to. Breakfast is ready.”
He settled in at a bar stool while Savannah poured him a cup of coffee and placed the steaming mug in front of him.
“Thanks,” he mumbled.
She knew from experience he’d be worthless until he had drank at least half a cup. She took her time plating his breakfast, allowing him to enjoy his coffee in silence. He placed he napkin across his lap and met Savannah’s eyes as she set the plate down in front of him.
“You’re welcome.” She busied her hands, adding some eggs to her own plate before joining him at the island. She could smell his manly scent — a mix of his spicy aftershave, a hint of soap and something else that was uniquely Cole. She hated the way it made her belly flutter and her fingers stumble over her task. But she managed to lower her plate to the counter successfully and settled on the stool next to him.
They ate in silence and Savannah was grateful. Cole was introspective and quiet, and it was times like this she found herself wondering what else she didn’t know about this man. Her mind drifted to Cole’s disappearances on Sunday afternoons. She was curious, but she hadn’t come right out and asked him. She was grateful for Cole and everything he’d done for her. Somehow she knew he would tell her eventually, when he was ready. Until then, she would force that from her mind and move forward with her life. She wouldn’t bombard Cole with questions, not when he’d been so gentle and careful with her past. And she wouldn’t let her past sabotage her chance at a happy future.
After breakfast, Savannah wordlessly scooped Cuddles up into her arms and rocked the puppy silently against her chest. Unwilling in that moment to go to Cole for comfort, like she instinctually wanted to, she instead settled for the sweet puppy’s affections. She wanted Cole to wrap her in his arms and kiss away her pain. But he remained seated at the island, stabbing at his breakfast like he was thinking just as hard as she was.
As badly as Savannah wanted to believe she was healed, whole again, she knew it wasn’t true. She still had occasional nightmares about living at the compound, about Dillon coming after her like he’d promised. And she still dreamed about her mom’s deadly aneurysm, waking teary and shaking. She’d push those thoughts away, burying the ache, and nestle closer into Cole’s arms those nights. That was the past, and she wouldn’t let it hurt her. In her waking hours, her fear was different. So acute she could reach out and touch it. She was afraid of being alone. She wanted Cole to notice her like a man should, take her in his arms, make her feel desired, whole again. But each time she tried to show him what she needed, tempt him by curling her body around his, as if to provide him a hint of what she craved, he’d stiffen as though he was in pain and bark out an excuse to remove her hands. His rejection was slowly ruining her, causing her to wonder why she didn’t fit in anywhere — why she wasn’t wanted.
Perhaps if she could break down his barrier, she could show Cole how good they could be together. It might not change anything, but maybe it would. Maybe he would finally see how much she cared for him and admit he had feelings for her too.