As he brushed past, he paused and framed her chin with his thumb and forefinger, indulging a heavy kiss, before continuing on and disappearing into the bathroom.
13
Straight from the horse's mouth
Cloudfuckingnine.Colecouldn’t remember the last time he felt so… happy. Like, could see that glimmer of hope extending in all directions, long-haul possible. Invincible.
Trace’s GPS guided them back into the main area of town and down a narrow side street to the restaurant. Pippa may be tenacious, but she had good taste. Clearly a converted house, now surrounded by the bustling tourist town, the sea-foam green paint on a black-stained sign outside the arched front door welcomed them in, and the scent of bacon wafting out invited him to let his stomach lead the way.
Hand linked with Trace’s, he didn’t want to let go, the connection so new, fragile and terrifying. He turned the gold-toned knob and pushed open the door. Bacon was just the beginning. Sausage, cheesy eggs loaded with the good stuff. Blueberry muffins, cinnamon rolls, and fresh-baked bread. Having lived with Ellen long enough, he knew how to follow his nose.
Trace hummed a sigh as they stopped on the black tile entry. She relaxed into him, never releasing his hand.
The hostess came over and beamed. “Good morning. Just the two of you?”
“Sutherland party?” Trace asked.
“Of course. You’re the first ones here. Come on back.”
First ones? He flicked up his wrist to check the time, and they were ten minutes early. So they would have had time to pick up where they’d left off. Not that he wanted to rush the first time, so it was probably a good thing that they’d hurried out of the room.
What used to be the parlor was now a dining area with six small tables. The hostess walked them down the short hallway to the next room, maybe the former primary bedroom, and was doubly inviting thanks to a fire going in the river rock hearth in the corner. Black lacquered tables had been pushed together with seating for fourteen. There were tea candles in sparkly holders down the length of the table, white wooden chairs and sea-foam green napkins rolled up in gold napkin rings. The wood floors creaked underfoot as they stepped into the cozy room.
He followed Trace, and she led the way to the other side of the table. Their backs would be to the long window that looked out over another parking lot next to a series of shops, a secondary street beyond that, then hotels, then the ocean. Not his favorite, to sit so exposed, but he was hell and gone from any threats. No intel unreported, no targets assigned. Free and fucking clear.
While the hostess pulled out Trace’s chair, he stepped back and nodded that he could get his own.
“Coffees?” she offered.
“Please,” they answered simultaneously, a little too desperately.
Cole dropped into the chair next to Trace and put his arm on the back of her chair.
She turned toward him, propping her feet on the bottom rung of his chair. She set her elbows on her knees and grinned at him. Watching him, her expression bright with a bliss that matched his own, she opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again.
Fuck it. He cupped his hand at the back of her neck and touched his lips to hers. So raw, intense, he ached deep in his gut, ravenous for her. He was done tiptoeing around her and fearing she’d run away again.
Seeming to be on the same page, she shifted closer on her chair. She spread one hand on his chest for balance as she swept her tongue deeply over his, then dove in for more.
His pulse accelerated as fast as her breathing, as urgent as the kiss, and the world around them melted away.
Footsteps creaked down the short hallway, and he quickly released her, but it was too late.
“Aw,” Haley fussed, stopping under the arched entry to the room.
Cole bit his bottom lip as he pulled back, and relented to a blush.
“Hi,” Trace said, passing her friend a loving but undoubtedly threatening look, holding until Haley acknowledged.
Finn sauntered in, setting his hands on Haley’s hips as he came in behind her. “Damn something smells good. I’m hungry.”
Haley finished the look with Trace and gave her a knowing, secret-filled nod, that they’d talk later so please don’t acknowledge just yet.
The table gradually filled up. Asher’s parents gushed over how nice it was to see Cole. Funny, as they knew he was more of a negative influence on their son despite Asher being a few years older. Whenever he had seen them, it was more because Trace and Pippa were friends, not because Asher invited him to hang out with his family.
Hand resting on the back of Trace’s chair, he leaned in and whispered in her ear now and again. Not because he had secrets to tell, but because he craved the nearness, hearing her laugh, and god fucking help him, because he loved the way she looked back at him, filled with adoration and he couldn’t wait to get her alone again. Like she’d taken a sledgehammer to the wall that had separated this part of them, and he couldn’t wait to demolish every last fragment of it.
His fried eggs over sweet potato hash with chipotle sauce were delivered from the server’s right hand, Trace’s smoked salmon and goat cheese omelet coming in from the left. While they waited for the others to get their food, he leaned in to ask Trace, “Bite for a bite?”
