Pocketful of Sand
Page 19
I jump when a harsh knock breaks the spell. Neither of us moves for a few more seconds, hesitant to let this go. Whatever “this” is.
At the second knock, I drop back down onto my heels. Cole clears his throat and steps aside so I can answer the door, but his eyes are still on me. I can feel them, like velvety fingers, keeping me wound up. Disconcerted.
It’s with one shaking hand that I reach for the knob and pull open the door. Jason is standing on my porch, smiling down at me.
“Jason. Hi,” I say, sounding as breathless as I feel.
“Eden,” he says with a nod, his smile widening. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, uh, of course,” I stammer, standing back to allow him to enter. I know the moment he spots Cole. His body language changes completely. He stiffens and his smile turns cold. He tries to hide it, but only a complete fool wouldn’t be able to see it.
“Hiya, Cole. Didn’t know you were here,” he says as if there is no tension in the room.
“Jason,” Cole nods. “What brings you by?”
Conveniently, Jason holds up a white slip of paper he’s carrying. “Brought the receipt for the items you bought at the store. Jordan forgot it when she bagged it all. I told her I’d bring it on out, but you weren’t at your place or across the street, so I thought I’d drop it off with Eden. You know, since you were fixing things here.”
I guess that makes sense, but still, it seems like an awful lot of trouble for a receipt. “Thanks,” Cole says coolly, reaching for the paper. He folds it up and sticks it in his jeans pocket.
“Were you on your way out?” Jason asks Cole innocently enough, pointing back over his shoulder at the door.
Unruffled, Cole simply says, “As a matter of fact I was.” Jason moves farther into the living room as Cole approaches the door again. “Call if you need me,” he says. Then, with one long look, he’s gone, leaving an empty space in the room that ten Jasons couldn’t fill. I feel oddly…bereft, a sensation that’s becoming more pronounced every time I’m around my handsome landlord and then he leaves.
“I thought you didn’t have a phone,” Jason reminds after the door is closed and the room is quiet again.
“He brought me one,” I confess, not following him into the living room.
His eyebrows shoot up. “He did? Well, looks like you’re bringing him out of his shell.”
I shrug. I don’t know what to say to that, although his observation makes me happy.
“The guy needs all the friends he can get. Nobody really wants to have anything to do with him, so…”
I know what he’s doing. I know what he’s getting at. And it infuriates me. I don’t let him see that, though. “I’m glad I can be different then.”
“You are definitely different,” Jason says, his genuine (if a bit shark-like) smile returning. His gaze skims me appreciatively.
As if sensing my discomfort, Emmy jumps up from her place on the floor and runs to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and looking up at me with her big, shiny green eyes.
“Well, thanks for bringing that by for Cole. Emmy and I were just about to get into her lessons for the day.”
His expression sobers, but he still seems pleasant enough. “I’ll see myself out then.” When he passes me, much closer than what I’d have liked, he stops and bends toward my ear. “If you need help, you’d be better off calling me. I don’t think you want to put much faith in Cole. Not with a history like his.”
I frown. I want to ask questions. I’m sure he knew I would want to ask questions. But I’m not falling into his trap. “I guess you should leave me your number then.”
That seems to satisfy him quite a bit. He takes out his wallet and removes one of several crisp business cards. They read JASON BAILEY. OWNER. BAILEY’S QUICK STOP. BAILEY’S PROPERTY MANAGEMENT. BAILEY’S IMPORTS.
What doesn’t he do in this town?
“Call me anytime. I mean it.”
He gives the underside of my chin a quick brush with his hooked forefinger, like we’re that familiar, and then reaches for the knob. I wait with bated breath for him to disappear, unlike with Cole, who I have to resist the urge to beg to stay. And when the door is closed behind Jason, I can’t help noticing the relief I feel. Nothing like the empty, yearning sensation I get when Cole goes.
With Jason gone, Emmy happily returns to her spot on the floor. I drift to the chair and sit down, lost in deep thought. What is Cole doing to me? How can I be so taken with someone I hardly know? What is it about him that pulls me in, that has taken such a hold on me and won’t let go?
What. Is it. About. Cole?
I don’t know how many minutes have passed–ten, twenty, sixty?– when an insistent fist bangs on the door. Two sharp knocks. My heart is thumping heavily in my chest when I get up to go answer it. But that’s nothing compared to the wild galloping that commences when I open it to find Cole staring at me with hunger in his eyes.
Cole.
He came back.
And he’s going to kiss me.
I can feel it like static, stimulating every fine hair on my body.
And then he drags me into his arms and puts an end to my curiosity.
His lips. I knew they’d taste like heaven. And they do. They’re the perfect mixture of firm and soft, and they move over mine with a power I always knew him capable of. It prowls in him, just beneath the surface, like a caged animal. Right now, the animal is barely contained. I feel it in the way his lips urge mine apart, in the way his tongue tangles and dominates mine, sending shockwaves of thrill all the way through to my core. I feel it in the way his hand threads into my hair to hold me still for his plundering.
At the second knock, I drop back down onto my heels. Cole clears his throat and steps aside so I can answer the door, but his eyes are still on me. I can feel them, like velvety fingers, keeping me wound up. Disconcerted.
It’s with one shaking hand that I reach for the knob and pull open the door. Jason is standing on my porch, smiling down at me.
“Jason. Hi,” I say, sounding as breathless as I feel.
“Eden,” he says with a nod, his smile widening. “Can I come in?”
“Oh, uh, of course,” I stammer, standing back to allow him to enter. I know the moment he spots Cole. His body language changes completely. He stiffens and his smile turns cold. He tries to hide it, but only a complete fool wouldn’t be able to see it.
“Hiya, Cole. Didn’t know you were here,” he says as if there is no tension in the room.
“Jason,” Cole nods. “What brings you by?”
Conveniently, Jason holds up a white slip of paper he’s carrying. “Brought the receipt for the items you bought at the store. Jordan forgot it when she bagged it all. I told her I’d bring it on out, but you weren’t at your place or across the street, so I thought I’d drop it off with Eden. You know, since you were fixing things here.”
I guess that makes sense, but still, it seems like an awful lot of trouble for a receipt. “Thanks,” Cole says coolly, reaching for the paper. He folds it up and sticks it in his jeans pocket.
“Were you on your way out?” Jason asks Cole innocently enough, pointing back over his shoulder at the door.
Unruffled, Cole simply says, “As a matter of fact I was.” Jason moves farther into the living room as Cole approaches the door again. “Call if you need me,” he says. Then, with one long look, he’s gone, leaving an empty space in the room that ten Jasons couldn’t fill. I feel oddly…bereft, a sensation that’s becoming more pronounced every time I’m around my handsome landlord and then he leaves.
“I thought you didn’t have a phone,” Jason reminds after the door is closed and the room is quiet again.
“He brought me one,” I confess, not following him into the living room.
His eyebrows shoot up. “He did? Well, looks like you’re bringing him out of his shell.”
I shrug. I don’t know what to say to that, although his observation makes me happy.
“The guy needs all the friends he can get. Nobody really wants to have anything to do with him, so…”
I know what he’s doing. I know what he’s getting at. And it infuriates me. I don’t let him see that, though. “I’m glad I can be different then.”
“You are definitely different,” Jason says, his genuine (if a bit shark-like) smile returning. His gaze skims me appreciatively.
As if sensing my discomfort, Emmy jumps up from her place on the floor and runs to me, wrapping her arms around my waist and looking up at me with her big, shiny green eyes.
“Well, thanks for bringing that by for Cole. Emmy and I were just about to get into her lessons for the day.”
His expression sobers, but he still seems pleasant enough. “I’ll see myself out then.” When he passes me, much closer than what I’d have liked, he stops and bends toward my ear. “If you need help, you’d be better off calling me. I don’t think you want to put much faith in Cole. Not with a history like his.”
I frown. I want to ask questions. I’m sure he knew I would want to ask questions. But I’m not falling into his trap. “I guess you should leave me your number then.”
That seems to satisfy him quite a bit. He takes out his wallet and removes one of several crisp business cards. They read JASON BAILEY. OWNER. BAILEY’S QUICK STOP. BAILEY’S PROPERTY MANAGEMENT. BAILEY’S IMPORTS.
What doesn’t he do in this town?
“Call me anytime. I mean it.”
He gives the underside of my chin a quick brush with his hooked forefinger, like we’re that familiar, and then reaches for the knob. I wait with bated breath for him to disappear, unlike with Cole, who I have to resist the urge to beg to stay. And when the door is closed behind Jason, I can’t help noticing the relief I feel. Nothing like the empty, yearning sensation I get when Cole goes.
With Jason gone, Emmy happily returns to her spot on the floor. I drift to the chair and sit down, lost in deep thought. What is Cole doing to me? How can I be so taken with someone I hardly know? What is it about him that pulls me in, that has taken such a hold on me and won’t let go?
What. Is it. About. Cole?
I don’t know how many minutes have passed–ten, twenty, sixty?– when an insistent fist bangs on the door. Two sharp knocks. My heart is thumping heavily in my chest when I get up to go answer it. But that’s nothing compared to the wild galloping that commences when I open it to find Cole staring at me with hunger in his eyes.
Cole.
He came back.
And he’s going to kiss me.
I can feel it like static, stimulating every fine hair on my body.
And then he drags me into his arms and puts an end to my curiosity.
His lips. I knew they’d taste like heaven. And they do. They’re the perfect mixture of firm and soft, and they move over mine with a power I always knew him capable of. It prowls in him, just beneath the surface, like a caged animal. Right now, the animal is barely contained. I feel it in the way his lips urge mine apart, in the way his tongue tangles and dominates mine, sending shockwaves of thrill all the way through to my core. I feel it in the way his hand threads into my hair to hold me still for his plundering.
