Page 21 of My Last Fling

“I figured you’d say that,” he says with a grin. “Which one is first?”

I take a calming breath and try not to look at the obvious bulge in the front of Cole’s pants as I move to one of the larger boxes in the kitchen. After reading the label, I smile.

“This one.”

I expect him to complain about the contents of the box, but he just shakes his head.

“Stalling, huh? That’s okay. Anticipation will make it that much better.”

I suppress a shiver at the promise in his words as I cut the tape open to reveal dozens of objects individually wrapped in white paper.

“Let me guess,” he says. “You want to wash all these dishes before putting them away?”

I smile. “How did you know?”

“Because I know you,” he says, lifting one of the dishes from the box. “Is it too much to hope these are dishwasher safe?”

His voice is so hopeful that I can’t help but laugh. “Actually, yes. They are. I don’t have the patience to buy dishes that can’t be put into the dishwasher.”

He grins. “Something we agree on.”

Cole unwraps dishes while I stack them in the dishwasher. We methodically work our way through the box, paper piling up around our feet as we go.

“You never told me why you decided to move to Peach Tree,” he says, handing me a bowl. “Is it just about your sister?”

“What do you mean?” I ask. Turning to face him, I gaze directly into his eyes, my expression deadly serious. “I moved here to be closer to you.”

There’s a moment of stunned silence as Cole’s eyes widen and his mouth drops open. I hold my gaze for as long as I can before I break into laughter. He looks absolutely terrified.

“Holy shit,” I gasp. “You should see your face!”

“I knew you were kidding,” he says, moving to gather up the discarded paper.

“You did not,” I tease. “You were two seconds away from running for the door.”

He tosses a piece of paper at me, and I catch it before it can hit my face.

“I wasn’t going to run,” he insists. “More like a light jog.”

I look at him with raised brows, making it clear that I don’t believe him for a second.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

I shake my head, still laughing. “Relax. I’m not stalking you, Cole. I just needed a change. That’s all.”

“I never said stalking,” he mutters, defensive. “Besides, you’re the one who came up with the rules, remember? Just friends who have sex. No strings.”

“I remember. And I meant them. Besides, I really was kidding. I didn’t move here for you.”

“That’s a relief,” he teases.

“Shut up,” I mutter.

“Seriously, though,” he says. “Why did you move here? It’s a big change from Atlanta. It can’t just be about Piper.”

I shrug, wondering how much to tell him about my reasons for leaving my life in Atlanta behind.

“There were lots of reasons,” I say, keeping my focus on stacking dishes in the dishwasher rather than looking at Cole.