choice. I knew our real lives would mix like oil and water, and there was that other little tidbit that I knew I was guarding my heart.
But now I wonder if he slipped me an extra pain pill because I realize this doesn’t seem right. “Where are we?”
He doesn’t answer, but creeps around one more bend when an old farmhouse appears.
My eyes widen. “I thought you had a condo in Alexandria?”
He says nothing and flips off the ignition, gets out, and rounds the car in a wink. He opens my door and holds out a hand. “Let’s do this.”
That hits me in the gut. Those three little words might as well be Cole Carson’s tagline. If he’s said them once, he’s said them a million times. He’d say it on assignment or when we were alone in bed.
Or in the shower.
Or even once in the back of a cargo van.
Then there was that one time at a gala in Berlin.
Shit. I need to put that out of my mind.
I pull in a breath as I carefully release my safety belt. Cole is pulling me to my feet, when the front door to the weathered house bursts open on its rusty hinges.
Cole doesn’t let go of my hand and his other arm comes around to steady my weight when we turn to the noise.
That’s when I see her.
I gasp.
“Damn you, Cole,” I bite under my breath and my eyes shoot to his. “You have some bloody nerve. I never thought you’d bring me here if she was with you. There’s no way I’d have agreed to this.”
“I know. It’s why I didn’t tell you.” His arm around my waist tightens. “It’ll be fine.”
It won’t be fine. I’m suddenly grateful for my pain killers because I cannot imagine how my insides would feel right now from them twisting in my gut.
I look back to the house, to her. Pictures haven’t done her justice over the years because she’s even more beautiful in the flesh. Seeing her for the first time is too much and I reach out to grip Cole’s shirt. He instantly returns my squeeze.
I can’t tear my eyes away and decide I’d rather take another bullet than walk into what’s waiting for me.
Because she does not look happy.
Cole
This is the moment.
The one I’ve been dreading and craving. For years, I’ve tried to convince Bella this would be okay. How it might be bumpy at first but I’d make sure to smooth it over in the end. And I would’ve been able to pull it off had I brought Bella into my life here years ago. Back when I merely had regular drama.
Back before that drama grew into a shitstorm.
The storm started five months ago—the worst of it parked on top of me and not budging. Life’s timing has never been on my side.
But then again, my actions in the past haven’t helped much, either. This is one more reminder how fuckups keep coming back to slap me in the face.
She doesn’t run to me, doesn’t call for me, and definitely doesn’t crack a smile. I’ve tried to explain over the last few days how I’m bringing a friend home. She asked me a million questions, as she always does, but none of them were about my friend.
They were all about her mom.
“Abbott.” The moment I call for her, Bella rips her hand away from me and tries to push from my side. My hand on her hip flexes, keeping her close because I’m done with her putting space between us—the tangible and figurative distance I’ve come to despise. I hold her tight and call for my daughter. “Come here. I want you to meet Bella.”
Abbott leans into Red and shakes her head, her long dark curls swaying around her shoulders and arms.
“You’ve kept a lot from me,” Bella mutters under her breath. “Don’t think you’re not going to pay for this later when we can speak privately.”
I push her toward the house and lean in to whisper, “Abbott is with me all the time—I have full custody now. That’s not changing—ever. And because I can’t manage her on my own with work, Red moved in with me. I’ll explain the rest later.”
I let go of her waist and collect her hand, pulling her forward. We come to a stop at the bottom of the porch where my daughter’s dark, leery eyes haven’t moved from the woman at my side.