Page 4 of Perfect Fling
As the second hand of her watch ticked slowly by, Erin thought about Cole. He’d deliberately steered clear of her in the time since their night together. When she’d see him at Cuppa Café, he’d nod his head and walk out the door.
The other day, while at Joe’s on Ladies’ Night, fighting against this ongoing nausea, a strange impulse had her approaching him. She’d attempted friendly conversation, ignoring the flutters in her stomach caused by being near him and his delicious masculine scent. With a long line of people waiting for drinks, he’d had no choice but to indulge her.
She’d even made him laugh once or twice, giving rise to a stupid flurry of hope... that what? Erin refused to go there, which was smart, considering that as soon as his beer was served, he’d grabbed the bottle, treated her to that elusive nod, and disappeared. Cole made it clear that one night meant just that. They weren’t even destined to be friends. Her stomach cramped at the reminder.
She couldn’t pretend his indifference didn’t hurt, and she wished he’d leave their small town so he wouldn’t be a permanent reminder of her one step outside the lines. Shecouldn’tbe pregnant and not with his baby. She couldn’t think of a worse, more awkward scenario, and her stomach lurched at the possibility.
“Ding!” Trina’s too-cheerful voice shook Erin out of her painful thoughts.
“You look.” She wrapped both arms around herself, aware she was shaking.
Trina extended her hand, and Erin gratefully accepted her friend’s support. She held her breath, her heart pounding so hard in her chest, she swore she could hear the sound in her ears. At this point, she couldn’t tell if the lump in her throat was from nausea or panic.
“Well?” Erin asked, unable to stand the silence or the suspense.
“It’s positive,” Trina whispered, no longer feigning upbeat excitement.
Erin let out a sound she didn’t recognize and ran for the nearest stall, unable to contain the nausea she’d been holding at bay.
Chapter Two
Cole woke upto the sun shining through the window in his small apartment over Joe’s Bar. As he did every morning since his return home from his last deep-undercover assignment, he cataloged his state of mind and concluded that today was no different than any other.
Yep, status quo in his world.
He took a hot shower, dressed, and headed downstairs to the coffee shop where every morning, Cole picked up his much-needed jolt of caffeine, ignoring the fact that most people in town gave him a wide berth. Most, not all—andnot allincluded the owner of Cuppa Café, Trisha. Much like her bar-owning brother, Joe, Trisha could listen to anyone’s tales of woe. Unlike Joe, she tried to use her charming personality to chitchat him into revealing something about where he’d been the last year and why he hadn’t come around before now. When her well-meaning prying failed, she tried to get him to agree to let her set him up on a date with one of her friends. That wasn’t happening either.
Cole was back in his hometown on standard R&R after a deep-undercover assignment. Usually, he and one of his fellow agents did some traveling, or he crashed at one of the guys’ cabins in Montana, but Cole hadn’t been back to Serendipity in a while. Much as it pained him to admit it, he’d missed the place where he’d grown up, if not all the people.
So here he was, back in good old Serendipity, where he had some family he liked, some he didn’t, and a job to return to soon enough. At least he loved his job. Cole liked knowing he was taking down the scum of the earth, never mind that his father was convinced he was just like them. Jed Sanders hadn’t approved of his son long before he’d gone into undercover work. He wasn’t a replica of the old man and never would be. He was used to being a disappointment, but he couldn’t deny the constant digs got to him, which was why he’d avoided coming home until now.
Cole figured the last job had gotten to him more than usual if he was back to thinking about Jed’s opinion of him. He tried to avoid looking back on his childhood, taking stock, and learning that just maybe his father had a point.
His cell rang, and he picked it up on the first ring. “Hey,” he said to his cousin, Nick Mancini.
“Sorry to tell you, but we’re not working today. Fire inspector’s coming by, so everything’s on hold.”
Since his return, Cole had been working construction for Nick’s company, and Cole appreciated knowing he’d always have a place with his cousin when he needed one. Working for Nick’s dad had always been a way to stay out of the house and keep his father off his back. Too bad Cole hadn’t been smart enough to work more and stay out of trouble, but he couldn’t change the past. And since it had led his mother to take them both away from Jed and out of Serendipity, maybe his juvenile idiocy hadn’t been such a bad thing. No matter what his father thought... or blamed him for.
“No problem,” Cole said. “Any other sites you can use a hand on?”
Silence followed, and Cole knew exactly what his cousin wasn’t saying. Nick had already informed him that a couple of clients preferred that Cole wasn’t on the crew who worked on their homes. As if he’d steal from anyone, but old neighbors? Friends? Jeez. Much as he hated it, Cole had to admit they had good reason to be suspicious, and nothing he could do or say would dispel their mistrust. Undercover work meant he had to keep a low profile and live with the consequences.
“Don’t worry about it. Call me when you need me again,” Cole said, letting his cousin off the hook.
“My mother mentioned Uncle Jed needs some help around the house,” Nick said. “I can handle it over the weekend if you want.”
Nick’s mother was Cole’s mother’s sister. Aunt Gloria had helped Cole’s mom when she needed it most, giving her money to leave Jed, and Cole loved her for it. Nick was like his mom, giving and always there.
As much as he appreciated the offer, Cole didn’t need Nick handling Jed’s crap. “You spend the weekend with your pretty wife,” he said of Kate Andrews, whom Nick had finally married a few months ago, a wedding Cole had missed because of work. It had been one of the few times he resented the job.
Because undercover defined him. It wasn’t just what he did; it was who he was. He didn’t have a real life: friends, habits, schedule, or routine. He had his work and his downtime before going back under.
“I don’t mind. I’ll get in and out with no shitstorm. You won’t.”
“Thanks, but as long as I’m in town, I’ll pick up the slack,” he told his cousin.
Nick’s groan echoed through the phone. “No reason for you to deal with the old man.”