“New job?”
He cocked his head, eyeing me strangely. “Cole didn’t tell you? I’m managing the main bar at Destiny.”
“Oh.” I realized I was standing there, a little shell-shocked, then pulled him into a hug. “Sorry. I was just—anyway, that’s wonderful,” I finally managed. I meant it, too. Destiny was a great place to work, and I was sure that Flynn would make much better money. What had thrown me for a loop—and still had me reeling—was the fact that I wasn’t as sure about Cole’s motives. And considering he’d neglected to tell me this little tidbit of news, I had a feeling that his motives weren’t entirely pure.
“We had an opening,” Cole said simply when I cornered him a few moments later.
“Uh-huh. And that offer had nothing to do with the fact that you weren’t happy with my roommate situation?”
“Seems like a win-win,” he said to me. “Flynn gets better pay and better benefits. And you,” he added, running his finger over the intricate collar that I wore, “have a house all to yourself. Honestly, the possibilities are endless.”
I tried to maintain my stern expression, but it wasn’t any use.
“Speaking of,” he said, tapping the necklace, “I think you and I should make the circle and say our goodbyes.”
We did, pausing a bit longer when we reached Angie, not just to thank her for the party, but to wait with her while the harbor security escorted away a wiry little man she’d seen sitting on one of the benches along the pier.
“At first I thought he was a guest,” she said. “But then he just sat and sat and stared at the boat. It creeped me out.”
The security guard who escorted the man away called Angie right before we left to tell her that the man was a tourist from Kansas who apparently thought that watching a party on some rich man’s boat was the kind of event that rounded out his bucket list.
“People are strange,” Angie said philosophically, and since I couldn’t argue with that, I didn’t even try.
I was still thinking about that statement when Cole pulled the Range Rover into the valet slot at the Firehouse. He came around and opened the door for me, and I stood there for a moment, just looking up at the nondescript building that hid what I imagined were dozens of fantasies and adventures. The possibilities both intrigued me and made me nervous, and I looked to Cole for support.
He took my hand automatically, but I felt distance, not the support I craved. My stomach twisted unpleasantly, and I couldn’t help but wonder if this was about me. If he was afraid that I couldn’t handle whatever went on in there.
“Mr. August,” a pretty young blonde wearing next to nothing said as we entered. “Welcome back.” She smiled at me, then returned her attention to him. “Your usual room?”
“Yes,” he said, and I had to bite back a frown because of the stiffness in his voice. A stiffness that seemed to increase once we were checked in and he pressed his hand against my back to lead me through a doorway and into a darkened corridor.
We’d taken two steps—and my eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the dark—when he pulled me to a stop. “No.”
That was all he said. And then he turned around, took my hand, and tugged me back toward the exit.
“Cole!” I said, once we were back outside, having blown past the baffled-looking hostess. “What the hell? What’s wrong? Is it me? Is it Michelle?”
“This isn’t the place for you.”
“Dammit, Cole, I thought we were past that. I can handle it. I want to handle it.”
“I know you do.” The words were low and harsh and laced with anger. “But I don’t want you to.”
I took a step back. “Okay, back up. What did I do? Why are you mad at me?”
Even as I watched, his expression seemed to crumble. “Fuck,” he said, then kicked the tire of the Range Rover that the valet had just returned from the lot. “Dammit, Kat, I’m not mad at you. I’m mad at me. Don’t you get it? I don’t want you here. And not because there’s anything wrong with the Firehouse, or anything wrong with you.”
He moved in front of me, then wiped away a tear that I hadn’t realized I’d shed. “It’s because of what you are to me,” he said, his voice so gentle it almost made the tears flow freely. “It’s because I came here because I needed something I couldn’t get anywhere else. I needed a safety net. But I don’t need that anymore. If I truly have you the way you say I do—the way I hope and believe that I do—then I don’t need this place anymore. Do you understand?”
I nodded, a little bit humbled, a little bit amazed.
“Is that okay?”
Okay? With every word and every touch he was telling me how much I meant to him. How could it be anything but okay?
And yet—
He’d been examining my face, and now he frowned.