Page 13 of The Pact

I snap a couple of photos of Cole working before heading inside. It might come off as creepy, but I’m a photographer and if you know, you know. There’s a certain type of beauty in watching someone care for something they love. He truly loves his bakery. I’m compelled to capture that.

Setting my camera down, I head inside.

“I hear this place makes the best coffee. And the owner isn’t half bad to look at.” Cole turns in my direction, curls swaying across his forehead as he smiles widely.

Placing his hands on the countertop, he leans forward and gives a half shrug. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Thea.”

“Oh, I know,” I say, giving him a sheepish grin. “It’s all a part of my grand plan. All the free coffee a girl could ever want. What more could I ask for?” He laughs and grabs a cup. “Actually, I’ll have a tea. I don’t want to be up all night.”

“How was the hike?” he asks as I watch him make my lavender and mint tea.

He’s wearing a white long sleeve shirt that makes his skin appear tanner. The muscles in his arms flex as he works. Flashes of our date make my cheeks heat. That night and what I wanted to happen have been replaying in my head non-stop.

I realize I’ve zoned out. He’s looking at me expectantly as he puts the tea bag in the steaming water.

“Oh, it was challenging, but good. The view was amazing. Have you ever been?”

He pops a lid onto the cup. “A few times.” I slide a ten across the counter. “It’s on me,” he insists.

Cole folds his arms on the counter, leveling his gaze with mine. His hazel eyes seem more green right now, as the corner of his lip tilts upwards, like he knows something I don’t.

My heart speed up and the sensible part of my brain short circuits.

Leaning across the counter, my fingers find his chin beneath the scruff. I draw him towards me, kissing him softly. As I pull away, anxiousness sets in. Why the hell did I do that?

I’m panicking when he wraps his hand around my wrist and brings me back to him. Cole kisses me with intensity. I wonder if he senses my doubt and needs me to know he wants this as much as I do.

“Heading home?” he asks as his lips leave mine. I hate that the warmth is sucked away by his absence.

“I have to run a couple of errands, then yes, going home.” I’m hoping he’ll ask me out on another date, although I’m not sure if I’m supposed to since he asked last time. Where is a dating handbook when you need one?

As if reading my mind, he clears his throat. “I know our last date was a little unconventional. I’d like to take you out again. We could do something a little more normal this time if you’d prefer. You know…a movie, mini golf, karaoke.”

My face twists at the third suggestion. “You won’t want to see me again if we do karaoke.” He chuckles at that. “I loved what you did last time. I’ll love whatever you choose for us next.” Cole’s face becomes serious for a moment and I worry my wording came off too strong.

“You don’t know how nice it is to hear that.” His gaze pours into me, making a shiver run down my back.

There’s something about mutual trauma that’s easily recognizable between two people who share it. Cole hadn’t gone into specific details on our date, only that he stuck with his brothers because things were hard growing up. I can tell his life hasn’t been any easier than mine.

I hate that I have to leave. Talking to him all night long is much more appealing, yet I need to go before the stores close.

“Let me know when you get home, so I know you made it safe,” he calls out as I push open the bakery door.

I pause and look over my shoulder. “Admit it, you just want to hear my beautiful voice before bed.” Cole smirks and shakes his head. I give him one last glance through the window as I head down Main Street.

It’s dark by the time I get back to my truck. The bakery’s lights are out and I don’t see Cole’s car.

Without thinking, I pull at the door handle, forgetting to hit the unlock button. It pops open and I groan inwardly. I’ll have to put Cassie’s post-it notes on my truck, so I remember to lock it.

Half of the problem is forgetfulness, the other half was just being wise from growing up in Atlanta. Leave nothing in your car and don’t bother locking the doors. Replacing a broken window was a costly lesson I only needed to learn once.

Throwing the shopping bags into the back and my worn satchel in the passenger seat, I turn the engine over and back out onto the nearly empty Main Street. Putting my truck in drive and cranking on the AC, I head home.

I don’t get far before I notice something fluttering in one of the air vents. Taking my foot off the gas, I reach for the white debris, keeping an eye on the road.

The piece of paper is wrapped around the vent in a way that makes me realize it’s intentional. Someone was in my truck while I was running errands. Fear rushes through me.

Looking over, I see my camera hasn’t been taken. Whoever was in here wasn’t after my things.

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