Page 48 of Stolen Summer

Letting the iron gate clatter shut behind me, I stomped through the sand, kicking my shoes off as I went. They slowed me down, and I had to get what I had to say to Cole off my chest before all the pent-up rage I’d collected the entire walk here faded. Before he could disarm me with his damn smirk or use whatever “Cole charm” he used that got him everything he wanted. I doubt he ever heard the word no in his life.

I sure as hell hadn’t said no to his offer.

Now look at the tangled mess I was in. Never make a deal with the devil unless you’re prepared to lose. Look where I was, and it was only day one. How much would I suffer before the end of the summer?

The thought terrified me.

Chapter Sixteen

Amber ribbons of sunlight cut across his face. Sunglasses shielded his eyes, preventing me from seeing if he was awake. From the even rise and fall of his chest and the relaxed hands crossed over his ribs, he appeared fast asleep.

Well, too fucking bad.

Three empty, bottles of beer were discarded in the sand beside him, along with a pair of flip-flops. His features weren’t as harsh as usual, and it made him less intimidating. The fucker was attractive, too damn good-looking, and the steamy breath in my lungs caught for a heartbeat, forgetting myself.

Then like the surf rolling into the shore, the anger came back.

Before I thought about my actions, I kicked a pile of sand onto his chest, and when the asshole didn’t immediately wake up, I bent down and began scooping it onto him. It was either bury him alive or drag his ass into the surf.

By the fourth shovel, he roused, his hand forking into his hair, a soft, sexy groan tumbling from his full lips. My eyes immediately went to the hoop, a different warmth sneaking into my gut.

No!

I wouldn’t feel anything for Cole but contempt. Right now, I hated the asshole, and I had to hold on to that feeling of disdain until the hurt eased in my chest.

Arms crossed, I loomed over him, waiting for him to shake off the last remnants of sleep and realize he had a pissed-off girl in front of him, ready to rip off his balls. “Have a good night?” My voice came out sharp, lashing off my tongue.

Sitting up, Cole brushed the sand off him. I couldn’t see his eyes behind the shades, but I knew they glared at me like hot coals. “What the actual fuck, Killer,” he snapped.

I wasn’t unnerved by his tone. “You stole the words right from my mouth. What the actual fuck, Cole.”

His lips curled down like a moody crescent moon. “You’re early.”

The urge to hurl shit at him grew strong within me, and I wished I had something to throw. “I’m done.” Acting before thinking became the theme of the day as I took the bag slung over my shoulder and swung it at him.

He ducked in time to not take the hit to his head, whacking his shoulder instead, and before I had the chance to snag it back, Cole grabbed a strap and yanked, sending me sprawling forward, right into his fucking lap.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I landed with an oomph, his arms automatically going around me. If they hadn’t, we might have both ended up with a mouthful of sand. There was something to be said for having quick reflexes.

“From where I sit, Killer, you aren’t going anywhere.” His arms tightened when I tried to roll off him.

I spun, my hair flying out and smacking Cole in the face, producing scowl lines on his forehead. “Let. Me. Go,” I gritted with deadly calm, a stark contrast to the shit storm swirling inside me.

“Not until you explain what has gotten you in such a delightful mood,” he demanded.

I struggled to get off his lap, the close contact mixing up the turmoil sieging in my blood, except I only managed to make myself more aware of every part of him. “Apparently, I quit the fucking diner. Imagine my surprise when I showed up for work this morning and learned I had a fucking fiancé.” I poked Cole in the chest, shifting my legs so I straddled him, a maneuver I realized too late wasn’t smart. “Fiancé, Cole? You couldn’t have come up with a better lie?”

His fingers were firm on my waist, keeping me planted on top of him. “People tend to react better to lies than the truth. Also, I was protecting your reputation. I assumed you didn’t want me telling everyone I paid you to stay with me.”

“Is this some kind of sick, twisted game to you?” I pressed.

His expression cooled. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t play games.”

My hair had come loose from its messy bun and ruffled in the wind. “Why did you have to say anything at all? Why did you go to the diner?”

He tucked one side of my hair behind my ears. “Because I needed you. Your job interfered with my plans.”