Page 28 of The Pact

Three out of the four most important relationships in my life have taught me that. My mom, my dad, and Gavin have all been hard lessons in exploitation. Perform how we want, make us feel good, give us all that we ask for and you’ll get a little something in return—not anything I actually needed, just what they thought I wanted.

Cassie is the exception.

“Let’s swim.”

Cole offers me the guest room again and explains that the entrance to the pool is through the gate out front. I grab my bag and head downstairs.

The swimsuit I change into is new. I bought it before I moved here, not realizing that lakes and rivers were more often the place to swim, rather than pools. So I haven’t had a chance to use it.

The ribbed fabric is the prettiest shade of cornflower blue. It’s flattering, although the bottoms are more revealing than I’m used to. Turning around in bathroom’s floor-length mirror, I see that my ass is fully on display.

I should be fine with it. I preach to my clients all the time about being comfortable in their skin and what they’re wearing. I look good; I know I do, yet years of being shamed has taken its toll.

When I was with Gavin, he couldn’t stand it if I wore anything revealing—telling me it was inappropriate for someone my age to be showing so much skin. This started before I turned thirty.

After we broke up, I went on a bit of a shopping spree, buying everything that I would have loved to wear over the years but felt too humiliated to.

Gavin definitely wouldn’t approve of this swimsuit and the thought of that makes me thrum with power. I’ll wear it in spite of him.

I find Cole skimming the pool of some leaves that are floating on the surface. He’s wearing swim trunks that hang low on his waist. On his calf, black ink covers almost all of his skin in geometric shapes that flow into each other, disappearing under the leg of his shorts.

His back flexes with each sweeping movement. I take a moment to appreciate how hot he looks. I can finally make out the tattoo on the upper half of his arm—dark clouds with veins of white lightning.

Click. Click.

He turns to see me with the camera in front of my face. Through the viewfinder, I see his face frozen in an expression I can’t decipher. Worry rises. Maybe he doesn’t like his picture being taken.

“Sorry,” I blurt out. “Habit.”

Cole’s brows pull tight. “Sorry, what?”

I hold up the camera. “I should have asked before taking your picture.” He doesn’t know I’ve secretly taken some while sitting in my truck outside of the bakery. Oops.

“Oh.” He seems to put the pieces together. “That’s not what’s got my attention.” He smirks, the dimple on one side deepening.

He sets the skimmer down, while I skim right past his comment.

“Nice setup you have here.” I glance around the patio. There’s a long infinity pool overlooking the river and the trees beyond. Next to the pool is a covered outdoor kitchen with a large grill, sink, fridge, and prep area.

Lounge chairs line the fence separating the parking area from the patio. To the other side of the pool is a long bar style counter with chairs facing a wall with a mounted TV. I walk over and put my camera down on the tabletop.

Cole ignores my compliment and comes toward me. Those bright hazel eyes have shifted. There’s something darker in them now that makes my skin prickle.

I’m frozen, unsure of what to do.

Once he’s in front of me, the back of his hand grazes over my cheek, then down my arm until his fingers are running across the top of my bikini bottoms. My eyes linger on where he touches my hip before I meet his gaze.

“You have no business being this damn beautiful, love. Do you know how hard it’ll be to get over you?” His words steal my breath. I’m seeing a different side to Cole. There’s something beyond his sweet gestures and comforting presence, something sultry, and I want to match it.

“You think it’s hard now? Just wait until you’ve gotten under me.” I expect him to laugh. Instead, he hooks his fingers beneath the hip strap and pulls me in. His other hand slides around my back and over my ass.

My skin heating has nothing to do with the sun bearing down. Electricity is building between us and I need to know what our spark can create.

Cole’s fingers squeeze and his lips push against mine—he forces my mouth open with his tongue. I let him in. My hands slip under his arms and slide up his back. The feel of his defined muscles beneath my fingers has me needing to explore his entire body. I want to memorize every inch of him.

Cole pulls back a fraction and whispers against my mouth. “Let’s get in the water.” I don’t want the moment to end, but I let him take my hand and lead me in.

The pool’s coolness pushes against the heat of my skin. I swim to the deep end, dipping my head under the water, expecting him to follow. He doesn’t.

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