Cole’s mouth was on mine as he walked us back to the bedroom, one arm securing me to him, the other hand at the back of my head. The strength he had was unbelievable as he lowered me to the bed without breaking contact. I by no means was a small woman, and I was surprised he didn’t drop me.
Then I wasn’t really thinking about any of that, because his mouth and hands were everywhere, shucking off my cardigan, and easing down the straps of my nightie, exposing my breasts to the cool, night air. The tips of my breasts beaded under his hot breath and then his mouth. The skirt of my nightie came up, the flannel bottoms he wore came off, and then he was between my thighs, and my knees were pressed into his sides.
The way he rocked his hips, the way each thrust hit the right spot each time with startling precision, took me farther and farther away from everything that had kept me awake and haunted me during the day.
Muscles started tightening in the most delicious way and Cole braced his weight on one arm. His lips glided over mine, and it was such a soft kiss, a sweet one, and it broke me.
I cried out, calling his name, and he was right behind me, his powerful body shuddering before half his weight hit me. He was heavy, but I didn’t care. I wanted him there.
Kissing his bare chest, I slid my hand down his back as my pulse slowed. “Guess what?”
“Hmm?” His head was buried against my neck.
“That was an amazing sleeping aid,” I told him. “I’d like one of them every evening, please.”
Cole chuckled against my throat. “I can do that for you and then some.”
My car was finally ready for pickup on Tuesday. Since Cole had to head into Baltimore and someone needed to be at the inn, Jason picked me up during lunch and took me to the body shop down the road.
“Thank you for doing this,” I said as we coasted down the street.
Jason smiled as he straightened his glasses. “It’s really no problem. I own my own agency, so I can pretty much come and go as I please.”
“Still awesome of you.” Snow-covered lawns blurred. “Especially yesterday.”
“Got to admit, I hope I don’t get a call from you in the future to watch the inn because of something like that again.”
I glanced over at him. “Me too.”
Jason slowed as we neared a red light. “Have you seen the newspaper this morning?”
Shaking my head, I said, “Do I want to?”
His lips quirked. “No.”
I sighed. “What does it say?”
Jason’s hand tightened on the steering wheel. “It’s about Angela—well, a little bit of the article is about her. The rest is about the . . . the Groom, and how we might have another serial killer on our hands.”
“Yeah.” I tipped my head back. “I’m not surprised to hear it.”
“Miranda called me this morning about it. She wanted to go get every newspaper and burn them all.”
My lips curved up. “I could see her organizing that.”
His fingers tapped along the steering wheel. “How’s your mom hanging in there?”
“Okay, but I know it’s getting to her. I think . . . well, I know she’s really worried and she’s scared.” I stretched out my legs, sighing. “I just hate that she’s having to go through this again.”
“And you,” he pointed out. “You’re having to go through it again.”
Biting down on my lip, I didn’t say anything. It was easier focusing on my mom and everyone else than myself, because when I did allow myself to really think about it, it scared the living hell out of me.
“You’re lucky to still have your mom around,” Jason said as he turned left. “I miss mine every day.”
I thought about how he’d lost his mother and stepfather. A horrible, tragic accident. “Are you still looking for your father?”
His fingers stilled as he said, “Not anymore.”
“I’m sorry.”
Slowing down as we reached the body shop, he pulled into the parking lot. Gravel crunched under the tires. “It is what it is. Had to make peace with it.”
Sometimes you didn’t have any other option than to do that.
It took about fifteen minutes for me to get the keys to my car, and when I walked back out, Jason was there, standing outside of his car with his hands shoved into the pockets of his wool coat.
“What are you still doing here?” I walked up to him.
He tilted his head to the side. “Just wanted to make sure you got your car and everything starts.”
“In other words, you’re playing bodyguard.”
Jason grinned. “Pretty much.”
“That’s sweet.” Stretching up, I kissed his cheek. “You don’t have to follow me back to the inn.”
“Are you going straight back there?” he asked.
I nodded. “Thank you again.” I started to turn as he headed for his driver’s door. I stopped. “Have you talked to your wife recently?”
Jason blinked. “Random question.”
My cheeks heated as I twisted the ring of keys in my hands. “I know, but I realized I haven’t really asked about you and her. I didn’t even know about it, and I’m trying to not be such a crappy—”
“It’s okay.” Jason laughed. “I talked to her a couple of days ago. She might come home for a visit.”
“That’s good news, right?”
“Yeah.” His nose scrunched. “I think so.”
“That’s good.” I glanced down at my keys. “I better get back.”
He nodded with a grin. “Call me if you need anything. Serious.”
“I have been, haven’t I?”
Laughing, Jason climbed into his sedan, and I turned, walking toward my poor car. Happy to see it with windows again, I unlocked the door and climbed in. The coldness of the seats seeped through my jeans, and the air had a certain chemical smell to it, something that vaguely reminded me of a new car.
The trip back to the inn was uneventful and it felt amazing to be behind the wheel of my own vehicle again.
And I was so not parking it outside.
When I got back to the inn, I saw a UPS truck parked out front. Letting the car idle outside the carriage house, I jumped out and went around to the front, unlocking the large barnlike doors. They opened, inch by painful inch.
Making a mental note to get a quote on replacing these things with an automatic garage-door opener, knowing it would probably get turned down by the historic society, I climbed back into my car and eased it in beside Mom’s truck.
Once parked, I turned off the car and patted the steering wheel before grabbing my purse and climbing back out. I closed the car door, hitting the lock button on my fob as I turned and looked. Sucking in a quick breath, I saw someone standing at the entrance of the carriage house, the bright sun blocking out their features and turning them into a tall, broad shadow.
Hairs along the back of my neck rose as I jerked back a step, surprise flashing through my system and quickly giving way to fear that felt like slush in my veins.
I clenched the keys, my mouth and throat drying. “Hello?”
The form—a man—stepped forward, out from the brightness of the cold January sun and into the dimly lit garage. The unease multiplied and spread, gluing my feet to where I stood when I saw who it was.
Coach Currie stood before me. “I need to talk to you.”
Chapter 24