to touch her, to kiss her, to take her to bed.
But that wasn’t going to happen. Not tonight. Maybe not ever, at this rate.
Stupid dog.
Kyla knocked lightly on the front door, then poked her head in. “Hotel laundry service. Heard we had a hot wings accident?”
He rolled his eyes as he took a bag from her and set it just inside the door. “That dog is going to be the death of me. Or you, since you’re the one who actually adopted him. Has it occurred to you that he’s almost bigger than the Shetlands?”
“I’m sorry. Really. I was really looking forward to those wings.” She couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “But you should be thanking me, don’t you think? I mean, seriously. Jess? Your shower? And here you are, shirtless?”
Cole motioned her back out the door. “Go. I’m shirtless because your dog ruined my shirt, and I need a shower before my skin burns off. Thank you for bringing down some clothes for Jess.”
“Sure. If you guys are a little late to the rehearsal dinner, I’ll make excuses, okay?”
He rolled his eyes. He wished. “Go.”
“Love you, Cole!” She hopped down his porch steps and he couldn’t help but smile.
Just then he heard the water shut off, and he knew he should knock on the bathroom door and hand in Jess’s clothes. Yes, he should definitely do that. But if he did, then he wouldn’t get the chance to see her come out of the bathroom all clean and glistening, her long hair down her back, wearing his robe.
And that was a sight he sorely wanted to see right now.
—
Jess took another swipe at the counter, trying to catch the last drops of sauce. After Cole had headed in to shower, she’d gotten dressed as quickly as possible and was now in the kitchen, trying to finish cleaning up. She moved a pile of papers and lifted an envelope to wipe drops of sauce from the top, then stopped short as she saw what was under it.
She knew she shouldn’t look. She knew she was invading Cole’s privacy by looking, but she couldn’t not look. As she read the piece of paper, she felt her jaw dropping a little further with each paragraph.
Five minutes later, Cole emerged from the bathroom, all adorably fresh and rumpled at the same time. From the leather couch where she was sitting, she took in his clean khakis and blue oxford, and a crazy part of her longed to jump up from the couch and into his arms. He was that gorgeous. And hot.
She sighed.
And apparently completely, utterly dissatisfied with his current life.
“Want some more wine?” He picked up the bottle, wiping a couple of drops of sauce from the bottom.
“Umm—”
“Don’t worry.” He smiled. “When you don’t chase it with Jell-O shots, this wine’s pretty benign. I promise I won’t let you get tipsy-stupid.”
“That’s a relief. Thank you.” Jess rolled her eyes.
“So.” He brought the wine bottle over and refilled her glass, then set it on the coffee table as he sat down on the other end of the couch. “Did you snoop around and uncover all my deep, dark secrets while I was in the shower?”
“Absolutely. You have a serious pickle problem.”
Cole laughed. “You went through my cupboards? Seriously?”
“No. I went to put away the bottle of hot sauce, and the first cupboard I opened had ten jars of pickles in it.”
“What can I say? I eat a lot of sandwiches. And pickles go with sandwiches. So, pickles. And if that’s the deepest, darkest thing you found, I guess I’m doing pretty well.”
“You also have a rather impressive collection of eighties hair band CDs, which I’m not sure whether to respect or laugh at.”
“Says the woman with six eighties playlists on her phone.”
“I know. Touché. But my songs are the good ones.”
He raised his eyebrows. “You were seriously born outside your dream decade, cowgirl.”
“That is not the first time you’ve told me that, and you’re right. I totally could have rocked the eighties.” She pushed her hair playfully high on top. “With enough hair spray, anyway.”
She took a deep breath. “So, speaking of dreams deferred and all—”
“Were we speaking of dreams deferred?”
“No.” Jess twisted her hands. “But I couldn’t think of a segue.”
She pulled the piece of paper she’d found on the counter from behind her back. “How did I never know you’d thought about going to med school?”
Cole’s eyes narrowed. “Where’d you find that?”
“On your counter. In my defense, I was