She muffled a laugh as she focused on swallowing and tried again. “Where all have you visited?”
After a hefty, drawn-out gulp, he chewed the edge of his tongue, then dove in for another swig. Drawing in a breath to recover, he said, “Not sure I’d call it visiting. I worked in a lot of places, some nice, most not so nice. So, yeah, it would be nice to go with someone who I can laugh with.” He reached across the table and grabbed one of the two stainless steel water bottles, then settled back into the sofa.
“It’s a date. Where should we go first?”
He big his tongue again and looked into the distance. “Iceland. Norway, maybe.”
“Really? Not soak up some sun and relax for your first real vacation?”
“I’ve been to too many excessively hot and miserable places for work, and I hate the heat…” He tipped a look, one side of his mouth lifting with playful devilry. “Although I would happily go someplace hot if you wear a skimpy bikini.”
Her beer flowed straight into her lungs and sent her coughing and flushing. Covering her mouth with one hand, she cupped her beer and lifted a finger in the international symbol for, “choking, hang on.” Wow. Shit. The flirting thing was new and… and… delicious and swoony and she began to worry if she was hitting menopause as her skin flushed hotter. Or maybe it was the choking. “Um. Wow. I guess that could, um… I do need a new swimsuit.” That was the best she could come up with? Way to dish it back, Trace.
He laughed a tease and grabbed the remote, turning and clicking it on. “So Hawaii is out for now.” He landed on one of the streaming subscriptions and then reached back to the table behind the sofa and flicked off the nearest lamp.
Speechless, clueless, and completely out of her league, Trace stowed away the rest of the pizza and goodies and carted them downstairs. She did a quick cleanup, and by the time she got back up, Cole was sound asleep on the couch.
6
The early bird gets the worm
Abriefhellowhentheyran into each other, one meal a day at the table with light, parent-friendly conversation, but otherwise Trace rarely saw Cole. He spent most of his time in the garage or in his room, physical therapy, and occasionally even socializing when Finn or Asher invited themselves over. Every day, he was busy in the garage, the saw, drill, or hammer announcing what he was up to, but she gave him space. Her dad had started parking outside to make room for Cole’s creations. Free from wearing his sling and ankle boot, he was staying busy.
Had he noticed that she was avoiding him, or was he too busy avoiding her?
Saturday morning, six a.m., Trace slipped on her workout gear. Avoidance never paid off, and things were only getting more awkward. She dashed downstairs for a pair of coffees.
Her mom was already at the bakery, her dad just making his way into the kitchen. “I doubt he’ll be awake yet,” Jeremy said as he saw Trace filling two mugs. “He was up late fixing up the sewing room table for me. Apparently, it’s got a wobble.”
“He’ll be awake soon enough,” she said, winking as she backed toward the stairs.
“Now, Trace. Give him time. He’s just doing his own thing at his own pace.”
“What happened to your timelines and guidelines? You never let him, me—or anyone else in this house—flounce around aimlessly.”
“He’s not a kid anymore, and I suspect he’s been to hell and back and could use the time.”
“Andback. That’s the key word there. He’s never liked sitting still, so I’m getting him moving.”
Jeremy dropped his hands to his hips. “I suppose six weeks is a while. I’ll see if I can help him find a therapist.”
“That is a fantastic plan,” she said as she began her ascent. Cole had been to more than his share of therapists, and he knew the tools, knew the drill, and yeah, he should go, but she knew he’d need to self-motivate before even starting therapy, or he wouldn’t get anything out of it.
The lights were dim, and she didn’t want to traumatize the night owl too much with a flood of light. An excessively bright awakening would piss him off, and she needed him to feel a little optimism in her direction. At the door, she balanced both mugs in one hand and tapped lightly with the other. No response.
Easing the door open, she let a sliver of light in, then a little more, and let it reach the edge of the bed.
He twitched, then bolted up. Eyes wild. Hair wild. Wow, he looked like an old-fashioned mountain man.
“Hi,” she said, waiting for him to fully wake before getting any closer.
“Hey,” he said, blinking it away. Looking around, his brow twitching as he seemed to realize the time, he asked, “Everything okay?”
“Great. I hear you’ve been promoted to full weight bearing and ‘advance activities as tolerated.’” She breezed across the room and sat on the bed next to him, passing the mug of coffee across.
Sleep cleared quickly from his expression, and he inhaled a waft of steam, smiling with one side of his mouth lifting wickedly high as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Which means I need to wake up at this godforsaken hour? What part of unemployed did you not understand?”
She couldn’t help the grin, knowing he was baiting her. Good. Cole messing with her was usually a good sign. “Come on,” she said, rising to her feet and nodding toward the door.
