Counting On Cole (Wilde Ways #8) - Cynthia Eden Page 0,66
Ragged.
She paused. Glanced back with a raised brow. Only mild curiosity showed on her face.
“You said you loved me.” He needed to confirm her statement in case he’d had some crazy-ass auditory hallucination.
She nodded.
No auditory hallucination.
“And you…trust me.”
Another nod.
“How?” It was hard to breathe. Much less talk. “Before, you didn’t say—”
She huffed at him. “Really, Cole. Don’t you know me better than that?”
He…maybe?
“Did you think I’d have wild, incredible, screaming sex with you if I didn’t love you?”
Well, a guy could certainly hope but—
“Did you think I’d be able to let myself go that completely, if I didn’t love you?”
Again, he’d been hoping, but she hadn’t said—
Evie turned fully toward him. “Did you think I would have ever let you back in my life if I didn’t still have feelings for you?”
His chest burned. The ache centered right beneath the tattoo of her name.
“There are other bodyguards,” she told him softly. “But there is only one you.”
“And there’s only one Evie.” My Evie.
“We can’t control how we feel. The minute I saw you again, I knew that I was going to be in trouble. I could either slam the door in your face…”
“Sweetheart, you did do that.” Had she forgotten?
Her smile made the ache in his chest grow even more. “You deserved it.”
Okay, yes. Guilty.
“But then I opened the door again.” A wave of her hand. “Literally. Figuratively. Whatever you want to call it, I did it.”
His hands were clenching and releasing. Over and over again. He was fighting the urge to grab her and not let go. Not ever.
“I knew when I opened the door again that one of two things could happen.”
He shouldn’t ask. He should take the miracle he’d been given and run with it. But he sucked so he asked, “What two things?”
“One, you’d break my heart all over again. But I figured I survived it once. I could do it again. Sometimes, pain is worth the ride, know what I mean?”
“I never want you in any pain.”
Her lashes lowered to hide her gaze. “Or the other thing could happen.”
His hands clenched. Released. “What other thing?”
“This time, you’d fall helplessly in love with me, too, and we’d stay together. We’d try to make things work.”
“I am helplessly in love with you.”
Her lashes lifted.
“Helplessly and completely.”
She smiled at him. God, did the woman get that she owned him with her smiles?
She dropped the sheet.
Fuck. She dropped the sheet.
“I need to shower. I’m dirty.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck.
“Or, I’d like to be dirty,” she murmured, “if you want to join me?”
He nodded quickly. “I will be right there.”
She turned and took her time strolling into the bathroom. He took his time admiring her ass. But as soon as the bathroom door closed…
Cole yanked out his phone. He marched into the den and shoved that phone up to his ear. It rang once. Twice.
Come on, Chase. Pick up the freaking phone.
“Yo.” Chase’s low voice. “Missing me already?”
“I want eyes on Robert Demakis.”
“Dude, what the hell? Are you psychic?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I was just about to call you regarding Demakis. The Wilde techs got hold of video footage from Gia’s place. Wanna guess who paid her a visit in the middle of the night? By middle of the night, I mean three a.m.?”
“You are shitting me.”
“I shit you not,” Chase assured him. “And rumor is—well, the rumor that I just pried out of Gia’s very friendly neighbor Martha—Robert and Gia liked to meet up, quite often, in the middle of the night. The affair seems to have been going on for months.”
Tension knotted at the base of his skull. “I want to talk to Robert Demakis.”
“Yep, thought you might.”
“But I don’t want Evie near the guy. I don’t trust him close to her.” A pause. “Let’s get James. Have him stay with her, then you and I can interrogate Demakis.” His gaze lifted to the framed artwork in front of him. He swallowed as he stared at the careful strokes that formed the lighthouse. “Get him over here as fast as you can.”
“On it.”
Cole kept the phone to his ear. His gaze stayed on that lighthouse.
“I told you…” Evie’s voice came from behind him. “My ex-boyfriend did the art.”
He slapped the phone down on a nearby table and spun toward her. She stood in the doorway, a robe covering up her body, and one shoulder propped up against the wooden door frame.
How long had she been there? How much had she heard?
Was he losing his freaking edge? He should have been