“Didn’t think you did. He talked a lot about you back in the day. Told him more than once to track your ass down.” Detective Conrad flashed a quick, very charming grin. “Even told him that marrying Irene was a mistake. His heart wasn’t there, no matter how badly he wanted it to be.”
My lips parted as I jerked my hand back, splashing coffee on my hand. I didn’t even feel the warm liquid. What did he just say?
“Think he got respecting you confused with giving you space, but it all worked out again. Funny how life does that.” He straightened, completely oblivious to the fact my jaw was on the floor. “Anyway, I’m going to call—”
“What did you say about Cole being . . . being married?” I asked, knowing—just knowing—I heard him wrong, because if Cole had been married, he would’ve said something. He had to have said something.
Detective Conrad’s nostrils widened slightly as the skin between his brows creased. “Aw shit,” he muttered.
I stared at him.
“Cole was married.”
Chapter 18
Cole was married?
Those three words were on a vicious cycle despite the more pressing things going on—say, like the highly attractive detective currently calling a forensic specialist to come dust for prints.
My heart was thundering in my chest as Mom roamed into the kitchen. I numbly introduced her to the detective and then excused myself. I needed a few moments alone to really process what I’d just learned.
I walked through the dining room, rubbing my palm against my sternum. I didn’t know what to think or how to feel. We hadn’t seen each other for ten years, and I had been with other people. It wasn’t like I had thought Cole was celibate and saintly, waiting patiently for my return. I figured he had been in relationships, and for the longest time I believed he was married, living out the happily ever after I’d wanted so badly to be a part of. But he hadn’t said anything to give the impression that he’d been married.
How could Cole not mention that? Being married seemed like a super important detail when you were talking to someone about second chances and breaking down Teflon walls.
Then again, we’d only been back in each other’s lives for a week.
Only a week.
Plopping down in the chair behind the front desk, I realized that we were moving way too fast—I was moving way too fast. Obviously, there hadn’t been a lot of time for Cole and me to have multiple in-depth conversations, but being married was something major. Something I thought someone would bring up pretty quickly.
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes, the ache in my temple slowly receding. Mom’s laugh carried from the kitchen, and I had no idea what the detective could be saying while investigating possible evidence related to a missing person that would make someone laugh. Otherwise, the inn was quiet. The guests were out, and in those moments, I realized what I was feeling wasn’t so much disbelief.
It was hurt, and it was stupid, because I didn’t think I had the right to be hurt over the fact that Cole had indeed moved on to the point that he got married. I’d left this town. I’d left him, and just because I hadn’t moved on, I hadn’t expected the same from Cole.
It hit me then, much like it had the night before when I woke up and saw Cole sitting there, that I didn’t just love him, I never stopped loving him. He’d burrowed his way in, digging deep and carving out a piece of my heart just for him, all those years ago, and he was still in there.
That’s why discovering that he was married from a virtual stranger hurt. That’s why I was questioning what the hell I was doing when it came to him.
Screw the being-alone-and-sorting-things-out part. I needed to call Miranda and tell her what I’d learned.
Opening the desk drawer where I stashed my cell, I reached for it. Her phone rang and then went to voicemail. Knowing she hated voicemails, I hung up without leaving one.
Rising, I shoved my cell into the back pocket of my jeans as the door to the inn opened. I looked over, and my heart stuttered as Cole walked in.
It had started snowing, and sprinkles of the white stuff dusted his shoulders and hair. Grinning, he thrust his fingers through his hair, brushing the snow off as he said, “Hey, babe.”
“Hey,” I whispered, and the damnedest image formed in my mind. Cole in a tux standing at an altar as some faceless but most likely beautiful woman in white slowly approached him.
His brows creased together. “You okay?”
“Yo, Landis.” Detective Conrad was in the sitting room. “Can we talk for a second?”
“Yeah.” Cole’s gaze remained trained on me. “You all right, Sasha?”
I wanted to blurt out the whole marriage business, but now was not the time, so I nodded and smiled. “Sure.”
He studied me for a moment and then walked over. Detective Conrad clapped a hand on Cole’s shoulder. They headed toward the dining room, passing Mom on the way.
Her hair was pulled back at the nape of her neck in a low bun, but several thin wisps framed her face. She placed her hands on the desk and leaned over, whispering, “That is one attractive man, isn’t he?”
My lips twitched. “Yes, he is.”
“Such a small town,” she said, glancing over her shoulder, “and I’ve never seen that man. I would’ve remembered seeing that man.”
That made me laugh. “He went to the academy with Cole apparently.”
Her gaze shifted back to me. “Is that so?”
I nodded, wanting to tell her about Cole being previously married, but before I could say anything, the inn doors opened yet again. This time it was new guests.
By the time we had them checked in and upstairs, James was banging around in the kitchen preparing the evening meal, and an older man had showed up from the police department. I caught a quick glimpse of him, and luckily he wasn’t wearing anything that showed he was from a forensics unit. Cole and Detective Conrad were in the old kitchen with the investigator, and looking for things to keep my mind busy, I realized we hadn’t grabbed the mail yet.
Slipping out the front door, I hunkered down in my sweater as the brisk wind circled around me. Snow fell in a fine sheet, dusting the driveway. For once, I actually had boots on instead of flip-flops, but I was wary of the icy spots. I reached the end of the drive, and stepped outside the stone wall, reaching the mailbox. Wishing I’d stopped to grab gloves, I opened the lid and quickly yanked out the contents. There were several bills. Of course. Something from Triple A, and a small package about four inches long and narrow.
As I walked back up the drive, I turned the package over. Surprise flickered through me. The little brown package was addressed to me. Having no idea who it could be from, I glanced at the sender’s address.
“Where in the hell is your jacket?”
I glanced up at the sound of Cole’s voice. He was standing on the porch, the corners of his lips turned down. “In the back room.”
He prowled toward the steps. “Just in case you haven’t realized, it’s snowing.”
“I didn’t want to bother the investigator.” And I also was sort of avoiding him. I climbed the steps. “Besides, I’ve been outside for like two minutes.”