Fall Into You (Morally Gray, #2)

“Yes. On his birthday. He sounded good.”

“Good.” She pauses, then says nonchalantly, “Is he still married to that Zoe?”

I smile. “It’s Chloe. But you knew that. And yes, they’re still married. I’ll tell him you said hello next time we speak.”

“Now, don’t go putting words in my mouth, honey. I didn’t say to tell the man hello.”

She’s trying to sound cross, but I know her too well. Not only does she want me to tell him she said hello, she wants me to call her immediately afterward to go over his reply, his tone of voice, and any other detail I can remember.

Like mother, like daughter.

“Okay, Mom. I won’t.”

“I mean…” She clears her throat. “You could tell him you talked to me. That would be fine.”

“Okay.”

We sit in awkward silence for a moment, until she says, “Do you have any plans for Thanksgiving?”

I always spend it with my dad and Chloe as she’s always been in Vegas with Bob, and I never wanted to go near that binge-drinking rageaholic, but maybe this year will be different. If Bob stays away, maybe she and I can get together.

“Not yet. You?”

“No. Me and Mr. Bones will probably just watch the Macy’s parade.”

“Or you could come to LA if you want. Or I could go down there. It would be great to see you. I miss you.”

Her soft intake of breath is louder than she would like because she makes up a hurried excuse about Mr. Bones scratching her arm to cover it.

“Well, think about it. You don’t have to decide now.”

“I will. Maybe…maybe we could talk again next week? If you want to, I mean.”

The hope in her voice that leaked out before she could catch it makes my heart hurt.

Dammit. I won’t cry. I won’t cry. Don’t cry!

I say softly, “I’d love that, Mom. How about I give you a call at the same time?”

“Sounds good. Talk to you then. Bye, honey.”

“Bye, Mom.”

I disconnect, then flop back onto the sofa and stare at the ceiling as tears leak from the corners of my eyes.

Hope is such an awful thing. A dangerous, awful thing. It drives people crazy.

I gave up hoping years ago that she’d change, that she’d become the mother I always needed, because it was too painful to continue holding on. But with one phone call, that old hope I thought I’d killed off has sprung back to life again like a green blade of grass can spring back after its been trampled by feet.

It’s far too early to tell, but if Bob is gone for good and the sobriety sticks, I might get to meet the woman who’s been missing for more than twenty years.

I scroll through my recent calls log and stare for the hundredth time at the number Cole called me from last Monday. Then I debate with myself for the hundredth time whether I should save it to contacts, delete it, or block it.

In the end, I don’t do anything. I just shut off the phone and pour myself some wine.





Nothing happens Monday at work. Tuesday and Wednesday pass uneventfully too. Then on Thursday, I’m waiting for the elevator to take me down to the cafeteria ten floors below when the doors open, and I’m knocked on my ass.

Between two other people, Cole stands inside.

He looks incredible.

He’s wearing a dove gray suit. His white dress shirt is open at the throat. Freshly shaven, his skin glows with health. A hint of a sunburn burnishes his cheeks. His dark hair gleams under the lights, but it’s slightly messy, as if he’s been running his hands through it.

The way my body reacts to seeing him, you’d think I was jabbed with a cattle prod.

Energy courses through me, setting my nerves alight and sending my pulse into overdrive. I’m sure the breath I suck in is audible. I freeze, unsure if I should turn and run or get on the elevator die of a heart attack.

He lifts his gaze to mine.

Our eyes lock.

The floor opens up and swallows me.

No, that’s just how it feels. But the sensation of falling is so acute, it leaves me dizzy. I’m so disoriented, I forget to do anything but stand there gaping at him.

The doors slide closed.

At the last moment, Cole reaches through and stops them.

They bounce slowly apart again, and he steps back.

Swallowing hard, my pulse thrumming, I step on the elevator, nod politely at the other passengers, then turn and face the closing doors.

His gaze on my body is a thousand heated needles, piercing me from behind.

One person gets off on the twenty-fifth floor. The other person gets off on the twentieth. Then Cole and I are alone on the elevator, and I’m carefully practicing deep breathing so I don’t pass out from nerves.

I think he’ll let me get off on my floor without saying a word to me, but the moment the doors close behind the last person and the elevator starts to move, he jabs his finger onto the Stop button.

The lift shakes a bit, then settles. I stand staring wide-eyed at the closed doors with Cole behind me and my heart pounding like mad until he says gruffly, “Excellent work this week, Ms. Sanders.”

His voice makes my nipples tingle. The timbre of it, so deep and husky, so beautifully masculine…it makes me remember things I shouldn’t.

Why am I such a fool for this man?

I close my eyes and take another deep breath. “Thank you, Mr. McCord.”

“How’s the 401(k) audit coming?”

I close my eyes and breathe, breathe, breathe. “I should have it completed by tomorrow.”

“Should? Or will?”

He moves closer until I feel his body heat. He lifts a lock of my hair to his nose and inhales. Then he makes a low sound in his chest, the exact sound of pleasure I’ve heard him make when his face is between my legs.

Steady, girl. Steady.

“I…I will.”

“Good. That’s very good, Ms. Sanders. I’m pleased.” He lowers his head and inhales deeply against my neck.

My nipples harden instantly. I swallow the moan of need building in the back of my throat.

His warm breath washing over my skin, he whispers, “I’ve missed you, baby. I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“Really? Hmm. I must’ve missed all your phone calls. And your emails. And your inter-office memos. No, wait, I did get one of those. It wasn’t exactly filled with longing.”

After a moment, he says, “You’re angry.”

“You’re right. I am. Not only angry, but frustrated and confused too.” I turn around, face him, and push him gently back a foot or two. “Why have you been ignoring me?”

“I could never ignore you.”

“Yet you have been.”

“No. I’ve been obsessing over you. I can’t stop thinking about you. It’s all I do. I’m fucking useless.”

My pulse is jagged. I want him to pull me into his arms and hold me, but that also makes me feel pathetic, so I don’t ask him to. “Have you spied on me over the security cameras?”

“No, but only because I told you I wouldn’t act like a complete animal anymore. I’ve wanted to. I’ve wanted to pay someone on your floor to report all your movements back to me too, but I didn’t do that either.”

Falling into his eyes, I say, “You’ve been behaving yourself.”

“I’m still a wreck.”

“Baby steps.”

We smile at each other.

He says, “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I like you.”

“Is that your idea of a compliment?”

“Yes. Because I don’t like anyone. But I like you very much. Aside from wanting to fuck you silly, I mean. I think you’re smart, witty, and incredibly good at your job.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Have you recently had a fall? Hit your head hard on the ground maybe?”

“No. Why?”

“Just wondering why we’re suddenly getting along so well.”

“We always get along well.”

“Yes, but usually there’s a bed involved.”

“About that…” He studies my mouth for a moment, then lifts his gaze to mine. “I want another sleepover.”





Cole





She stares at me for a beat of silence, then folds her arms over her chest and says acidly, “No. I’m sure you’re familiar with the word, because you say it so often.”

I don’t know why I was expecting this to be easy.