Hollywood Dirt
Page 86
I grabbed my purse and kissed Mama goodbye. Then I opened the back door and jogged down the steps, heading to the fields, his home visible in the setting sun, lights on inside, his truck parked in front. Behind me, at the end of the Holdens’ long drive, a cluster of strange cars squatted outside the locked entry fence. We’d never locked that fence, not in the six years I’d been on the plantation. But Casey had called during my nap and warned Mama. Told her to tell me to stay put, to not talk to anyone, to avoid them. I took a deep breath and entered the fields, pushing everything out of my mind with each step farther away from the vultures.
A distraction. That was all this was.
Maybe an entire box of condoms was a little intimidating. I should have opened it and just pulled out one or two. Or three. Was this a one-sex visit? Scott and I had never had sex more than once per twenty-four hour period. But I read books, I watched Showtime, I knew that other couples were not the prudes that Scott and I were.
Not that Cole and I were a couple. It was a figurative reference.
It was stupid for me to wear flip-flops to walk there. My toes were already covered in dust, and I was only halfway there. Cole was not going to want to have sex with a girl with dirty feet. And it wasn’t like I could invite myself in and then ask to wash them off.
Rainboots. That would have matched this sundress and still kept my feet clean. Though the whole boot-removal process was a pain. And super unsexy, my hands gripping one boot while I grunted and wheezed through the contortions required to get a rubber object off a sweaty foot.
I should have eaten more. I was already hungry and those two bites of soup were tiny. When I was chicken-sitting at Cole’s, I raided his kitchen, and it was pathetic. The man appeared to live off milk, beer, and ham sandwiches.
I came to the end of the field and stopped. Before me, the Kirklands’ backyard, green grass stretching fifty yards in either direction, the white fence keeping the wildflowers at bay, the large home looming up and breaking the canvas of the night sky. And in the middle of the yard stood Cole, his hands on his hips, his white T-shirt stretched tight over a muscular chest, workout shorts on, his eyes on me. My dirty feet and I waited, stuck in place, and tried to think of something to say.
CHAPTER 95
He had been so worried she wouldn’t show. When she’d stepped out of the Franks’ house, her head had been down, her eyes not meeting his. He was sure that she’d change her mind, would leave him hanging. But now, coming to a stop outside the fence, she was here. He skirted around Cocky and walked over to the gate, resting his weight on it and looking at her.
“You came,” he said.
“Yeah.” She shifted her purse higher on her shoulder. “I brought condoms. Or…” She blushed. “A condom. You know. If…” She brought a hand to her mouth and giggled. “Oh my Lord. I’m an idiot.”
He laughed. “I have condoms but thank you.” The dusk light made her hair look pink, the wind picked up wisps of it and took it across her face, and she suddenly looked vulnerable. It was a new look on her and stirred some alpha male instinct deep within him, one he didn’t recognize. He put one foot up on the fence. “Before you come in, I wanted to propose something.”
“I don’t want to talk about the night of the dinner,” she said quickly. “If we could just, right now, ignore that.”
He shrugged. “Fine by me. It’s your thing. You change your mind, I’m here.”
“What’s the proposal?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, and he wondered, for an insane moment, if a child of theirs would have hazel or green eyes.
“Twenty-four hour truce.” He gestured between the two of them. “You and I have some aversion to civility. It’s a Friday night. We don’t have to work tomorrow. For the next twenty-four hours, no fighting.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “What about when you act like an asshole?”
“I won’t.” He smiled. “Promise.” It’d be hard not to push her buttons, especially when he enjoyed seeing her worked up. But he’d behave for twenty-four hours. He wanted to explore more of the girl who hid behind all of that fire.
“I don’t know if I trust your promises.” She stepped closer, dropping her arms and resting them on the gate.
He shrugged. “Then you can call me an asshole and storm out. Which is pretty much what you were already planning on doing after you got your use out of those condoms. Or condom. Or…” His grin widened. “Whatever.”
“That is true…” she mused, a wicked gleam in those hazel eyes. “I practiced my dramatic exit and everything.”
“I often fail at behaving.” Cole leaned forward, against the rail, his voice conspiratorial. “So don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get to use that at some point.”
He pulled at the gate, then stopped. “Deal?”
“Are you going to turn me away if I don’t agree?”
“Ummm… yes.” He held the gate in place, half open, his body blocking the entrance.
“You’re a terrible liar,” she teased, stepping closer.
“Well, you know. I haven’t had much practice.” He smirked. “Deal?” He held out his hand.
“Deal.” She reached forward and shook it, her handshake strong despite such a tiny palm.
“Where’s your bag?” he eyed her purse, which was too small to hold much of anything.
A distraction. That was all this was.
Maybe an entire box of condoms was a little intimidating. I should have opened it and just pulled out one or two. Or three. Was this a one-sex visit? Scott and I had never had sex more than once per twenty-four hour period. But I read books, I watched Showtime, I knew that other couples were not the prudes that Scott and I were.
Not that Cole and I were a couple. It was a figurative reference.
It was stupid for me to wear flip-flops to walk there. My toes were already covered in dust, and I was only halfway there. Cole was not going to want to have sex with a girl with dirty feet. And it wasn’t like I could invite myself in and then ask to wash them off.
Rainboots. That would have matched this sundress and still kept my feet clean. Though the whole boot-removal process was a pain. And super unsexy, my hands gripping one boot while I grunted and wheezed through the contortions required to get a rubber object off a sweaty foot.
I should have eaten more. I was already hungry and those two bites of soup were tiny. When I was chicken-sitting at Cole’s, I raided his kitchen, and it was pathetic. The man appeared to live off milk, beer, and ham sandwiches.
I came to the end of the field and stopped. Before me, the Kirklands’ backyard, green grass stretching fifty yards in either direction, the white fence keeping the wildflowers at bay, the large home looming up and breaking the canvas of the night sky. And in the middle of the yard stood Cole, his hands on his hips, his white T-shirt stretched tight over a muscular chest, workout shorts on, his eyes on me. My dirty feet and I waited, stuck in place, and tried to think of something to say.
CHAPTER 95
He had been so worried she wouldn’t show. When she’d stepped out of the Franks’ house, her head had been down, her eyes not meeting his. He was sure that she’d change her mind, would leave him hanging. But now, coming to a stop outside the fence, she was here. He skirted around Cocky and walked over to the gate, resting his weight on it and looking at her.
“You came,” he said.
“Yeah.” She shifted her purse higher on her shoulder. “I brought condoms. Or…” She blushed. “A condom. You know. If…” She brought a hand to her mouth and giggled. “Oh my Lord. I’m an idiot.”
He laughed. “I have condoms but thank you.” The dusk light made her hair look pink, the wind picked up wisps of it and took it across her face, and she suddenly looked vulnerable. It was a new look on her and stirred some alpha male instinct deep within him, one he didn’t recognize. He put one foot up on the fence. “Before you come in, I wanted to propose something.”
“I don’t want to talk about the night of the dinner,” she said quickly. “If we could just, right now, ignore that.”
He shrugged. “Fine by me. It’s your thing. You change your mind, I’m here.”
“What’s the proposal?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion, and he wondered, for an insane moment, if a child of theirs would have hazel or green eyes.
“Twenty-four hour truce.” He gestured between the two of them. “You and I have some aversion to civility. It’s a Friday night. We don’t have to work tomorrow. For the next twenty-four hours, no fighting.”
She folded her arms over her chest. “What about when you act like an asshole?”
“I won’t.” He smiled. “Promise.” It’d be hard not to push her buttons, especially when he enjoyed seeing her worked up. But he’d behave for twenty-four hours. He wanted to explore more of the girl who hid behind all of that fire.
“I don’t know if I trust your promises.” She stepped closer, dropping her arms and resting them on the gate.
He shrugged. “Then you can call me an asshole and storm out. Which is pretty much what you were already planning on doing after you got your use out of those condoms. Or condom. Or…” His grin widened. “Whatever.”
“That is true…” she mused, a wicked gleam in those hazel eyes. “I practiced my dramatic exit and everything.”
“I often fail at behaving.” Cole leaned forward, against the rail, his voice conspiratorial. “So don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll get to use that at some point.”
He pulled at the gate, then stopped. “Deal?”
“Are you going to turn me away if I don’t agree?”
“Ummm… yes.” He held the gate in place, half open, his body blocking the entrance.
“You’re a terrible liar,” she teased, stepping closer.
“Well, you know. I haven’t had much practice.” He smirked. “Deal?” He held out his hand.
“Deal.” She reached forward and shook it, her handshake strong despite such a tiny palm.
“Where’s your bag?” he eyed her purse, which was too small to hold much of anything.
