For Everly (15 page)

He handed her the wet dishtowel and held her gaze. “You stayed as far from me as you could at every turn.”

Since she was pressed against the stove, she couldn’t back away from him. He was entirely too close. She could smell the soap he used. She could see the green flecks in his eyes. She could feel the warmth from his hard body.

“I…didn’t mean to,” she said softly.

When his gaze moved to her mouth, she instinctively moistened her lips. His eyes darkened in color. She knew she had to be honest with him if they were going to start fresh.

“It’s what my former therapist used to call a defense mechanism,” she continued in the same quiet voice. Now, his eyes returned to hers. “I’m better about it now, but it still happens. I keep distance between myself and others, especially if I feel they’re getting too close too fast.”

He considered that in silence. Then he eased back a step. The action both relieved and disappointed her.

“All right,” he said at last. “I can understand that. Really. I’m fine with moving at your pace.” His eyes scanned her face. “I just hope you won’t cut me out completely. I value your friendship.”

And she not only valued his, but could see it progressing beyond friendship in no time at all. She’d never gotten so comfortable with someone so easily. Thus, she’d tried to separate herself from him. It was up to her to decide if she really wanted to maintain that separation or if she wanted to take her grandpa’s advice…and start living.

She shook her head. “It’s not my goal to cut you out, Cole. In fact, I may need you to push me outside of my comfort zone now and then. Don’t let me get away with the sort of distancing you saw today. Do you know what I mean?”

He smiled. “I think I can figure it out.”

That smile made her heart do a back flip. She didn’t know where this was going, but it was sure to be an adventure, she decided.

“Do you want to stay for the ‘Niners-Pats game?” she asked.

“If you’ll have me,” he said.

She sensed there was a subtle innuendo behind his words, but she didn’t know exactly what it was or how to address it. Well, one step at a time, she decided. And that step would involve a few hours sitting next to Cole Parker on her family room sofa.

“As long as you don’t root for New England, you’re welcome here.”

He grinned and reached out to sling an arm over her shoulder, pulling her toward the family room. “I think you and I are going to get along famously, Miss Wallace,” he said.

Chapter 19

“Good morning, Ms. Margaret,” Cole greeted his housekeeper the following morning. “How are you today?”

“Just fine, Mr. Cole,” she said, beaming a smile at him. “Did you have a nice weekend?”

“I did.” He opted for his Thor mug and filled it with fresh coffee, then took a seat at the kitchen island. Margaret filled the cup the rest of the way with creamer. “Thanks. How ‘bout you? Did you get out to see Priscilla like you planned?”

“Sho’ did. Saw my grandbaby, too.” Her smile about split her face.

Taking a sip of his coffee, Cole waved his hand in a “bring ‘em on” motion. She laughed and reached into the pocket of her apron, pulling out a stack of glossy prints.

“You know me too well,” she said, leaning forward so she could peer at the pictures with him. “I can’t resist takin’ a million pictures when I’m around my girl and her baby.”

He made appropriate sounds and comments as he looked at photo after photo of a two-year-old cherub who wore her puffy brown hair in pig tails and appeared to love the color pink. She really was a cutie, so it wasn’t hard to show interest. When he finished with the stack, Margaret put them back into her apron pocket.

“Now, Mr. Cole, I was ‘bout to make some breakfast for you,” she said, opening the fridge and pulling out some bacon and eggs. “Should I be makin’ enough for just you, or you and a guest?”

He paused with the coffee pot in his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I cleaned two champagne flutes this mornin’.”

“Ah.” He’d meant to clean those yesterday, but it slipped his mind. Struggling to think of some sort of explanation, he poured his second cup of coffee. “I’m here alone, Ms. Margaret,” he said at last. “Um, thanks for asking.”

“All right, then,” she said. Before he could sneak guiltily out of the kitchen, she asked, “Is she a good girl for you?”

His discomfort eased. Now, he smiled. “Yes, ma’am. She is.”

She just nodded. He continued to smile as he went to turn on
SportsCenter
and grabbed his iPad, settling on the sofa. The scent of bacon cooking made his stomach growl. He pulled up his stocks and began the routine of communicating with his broker, checking e-mail, and surfing his social networking sites.

His parents wanted him to come out and see the house before Christmas, since the actual holiday was so chaotic. He made plans to drive the hour out to see them the next day. Then he spotted an e-mail from his agent and remembered that he’d forgotten to return a call to him the day before. Oops.

Deciding he had a few minutes, he picked up the cordless phone on the end table near his elbow and dialed Wayne’s number.

“Hey there, Cole,” Wayne answered after two rings. “You had me worried there.”

“Sorry, Wayne. I was out all day yesterday and didn’t get home until late. What’s up?”

“Well, I had a run-in with Rebecca Peterman about a week ago, and then again the night before last. She’s got me concerned about you.”

Cole clutched the handle of his coffee mug as anger surged. “How is it you two are seeing so much of each other?”

“It was a coincidence both times, but she seemed concerned that you’re getting mixed up with someone who’ll have a, well, less than positive impact on your image.”

His temper flashed, pushing him to his feet so he could walk farther from the kitchen and out of Margaret’s earshot. “Wayne, listen to me. Rebecca’s nuts. Seriously certifiable. Don’t listen to anything—”

“Are you saying that Everly Wallace isn’t a destitute waitress with a past involving commitment in a psychiatric hospital?”

“I’m saying that Rebecca is wrong on many levels, and you just need to trust me to handle my own personal affairs. You know me, Wayne. I keep a low profile.”

“Cole, I know I don’t need to remind you that this is a contract year. We can’t afford for you to tarnish your image in any way. In fact, you need to do everything you can to keep it pristine.”

Cole downed the rest of his coffee, then said, “Believe me, Wayne. No one knows that better than me.”

*     *     *

He’d convinced Everly to plan to stay for dinner that evening. She arrived at two o’clock that afternoon after Margaret went home. The prospect of spending some time with her alone without it involving PT or hellish conditioning exercises brightened his mood, even as he watched her pull out the various implements she’d torture him with that afternoon.

“More work with the cane?” he groaned. “It makes me feel geriatric.”

“Don’t complain,” she said. “We need to work through these passive range of motion exercises until I’m satisfied that your shoulder strength can handle more active ones. As long as you’re diligent—and not whining—we should be able to move forward by the end of next week. I’ve already started outlining the plan for your upper extremity stabilization exercises.”

Taking the cane from her, he said, “You have no idea what it does to me when you use words like ‘stabilization.’ So doctorly.”

She snorted and shook her head. “‘Doctorly’ isn’t a word. It hurt my tongue a little just saying it.”

“Sure it’s a word,” he said as he began his first set of exercises under her careful eye.

“No, it’s not.” She appeared to think about it as she straightened his posture. “Use it in a sentence.”

“I’m not doctorly, but I’ll bet I could make your tongue feel a whole lot better.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Are you attempting to flirt with me?”

“Ouch. You’re a harsh woman, Everly Wallace.”

They worked together for more than two hours, taking their time to make sure the physical therapy was effective, then focusing on cardio. By the time they finished, they were both sweaty and exhausted.

Cole waved an arm from his prone position on the exercise mat. “Go on without me,” he said as he worked on controlling his breathing. “Save yourself.”

“You may not have noticed, but Billy is still going through the cool down,” Everly said, watching the Tae Bo video on the flat screen television and following the bald, muscular instructor’s movements. “You didn’t see him collapse in a heap after his last side kick, did you?”

“Billy can kiss my—”

“Tsk, tsk. Just because you don’t like exercising doesn’t make Billy the enemy. Do you think those things about me when I’m working with you?”

“Are you asking me if I want you to kiss my—?”

“Cole!”

Her expression was priceless. He laughed and shoved himself back up to do the last of the cool down. Then he stood and held a hand out to help her up.

“For the record, I do think about you kissing me,” he said when they faced each other. “A lot.”

He knew her red cheeks weren’t all a result of her exertion. Her reactions to his flirtations were always refreshing. Today, she looked at the mat for a moment, then his chest, and finally met his gaze.

“I think about kissing you, too,” she admitted. “Though I usually picture myself smelling a lot better than this.”

He laughed again. “Come on. You can use the guest room shower and get changed in there.”

After he deposited her in the guest room closest to his bedroom, he went and showered and changed. He’d shaved earlier, almost going clean-shaven instead of keeping the chin strap, but the look had become one of his signatures. Better not rock the boat just then, he decided, especially since he had a photo shoot that week.

After pulling on some jeans and a T-shirt, he headed out to the kitchen without bothering to put on socks. Casual suited him just fine. He didn’t feel as though he had to act any different than usual to impress Everly. In his professional world, it was all about image. Everyone put on a façade. It was nice to not have to think about being anyone but himself.

He smiled when she joined him in the kitchen fifteen minutes later. She’d found the hair dryer and taken the time to style her hair and put on a little makeup. Though she didn’t need it, the makeup had a striking effect on her features, making him pause an extra moment to appreciate it. She also wore jeans, but she’d dressed them up a bit with a dark green top that left the tops of her shoulders bare. It clung to her breasts, then loosened into flowy fabric to her hips. She looked both delicate and seductive.

When he looked down, he realized she wasn’t wearing any shoes, either. Something about that simple fact shoved his libido into overdrive.

He knew then that Everly Wallace was about to put his self-control to the test without even trying at all.

Chapter 20

Everly told herself to be flattered, not embarrassed, by Cole’s scrutiny. When he looked at her bare feet, she was glad she’d decided to paint her toenails earlier. The bold shade of red gave her a boost of confidence.

“Your floors are warmer than the ones I’m used to,” she said by way of explanation.

“Heated subflooring. Real nice in the winter.”

She relaxed when he wiggled his eyebrows and went back to chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of him. Maybe she had read too much into his intent once-over.

“You sure look nice, Ms. Wallace,” he said. “Thanks for joining me for dinner.”

Smiling, she walked closer to the island. “Thanks for the invite, Mr. Parker. What are we having?”

“Pot roast,” he answered. He turned and tossed the chopped carrots into a large roasting pan sitting on the counter. “It’s my signature dish.”

She gave him a dubious look.

“All right, it’s my only dish that doesn’t involve a grill,” he admitted with a grin. “But you’re going to love it.”

Walking over to the roasting pan, she saw the uncooked meat covered in some kind of gravy with a heap of vegetables along the outside edges. Even though it wasn’t cooked yet, it did smell pretty good.

“In my world, pot roast takes a long time to cook properly.”

“That it does,” he confirmed, speaking over the running water as he washed his hands. “It’s all part of my grand scheme to spend as much time with you as possible without doing a single crunch or range of motion exercise.”

That made her smile. “Quite crafty of you.”

“Thanks. I thought so.” As he dried his hands, he used his chin to point at the counter. “Mind putting the lid on the roast and sticking it in the lower oven?”

Nodding, she lifted the lid, thinking how odd it was for someone to have more than one oven. Once she covered their dinner and put it in to cook, she turned back to Cole. He had pulled a tray out of the fridge.

“This is compliments of Margaret,” he said when she looked at it. She knew of his housekeeper, but had yet to meet her. “She’s a goddess, especially in the kitchen.”

“You could have had her cook dinner for you and just reheated it.”

“Yes, but you must have missed the part about my grand scheme.” His eyes held hers until her cheeks burned. “Would you take this into the family room?”

“Sure.”

She looked at the tray’s contents as she walked with it into the family room. Although it all looked appetizing, she didn’t recognize some of the items. Deciding that it would just be another part of her current life’s adventure, she’d give everything on it a try.

“Since you seemed to enjoy the champagne, I chose a wine based on that general palate,” Cole said from behind her as she set the tray down. She watched as he approached with an ice bucket and two glasses. “Hopefully you’ll enjoy it, but there’s always sweet tea if you don’t.”

She smiled. “I don’t have any experience drinking wine, but I’ll give it a try.”

While he filled both glasses, she sat on the edge of the sofa nearest the large, square coffee table. The tray with the food was so far from her that she’d have to stand up to reach it.