Page 5 of Fall at Once

We had an informal fifty-fifty custody agreement that depended heavily on our work schedules. Living in the same town made it easy to facilitate that. Being there for our kids was the one thing we agreed on.

I stood there for a minute, blinking into the sun’s glare while surreptitiously watching her watch me. I took in her long, untamed curls, highlighted by the light shining through the trees. Her big, wide eyes looked me over without fear or artifice, though her posture was slightly rigid and timid.

My jaw tensed as I finally took in her tight black sweater and long, lean jeans-clad legs to land on her high-heeled boots.

Then she bit her lip when her eyes met mine, and I had to look away because, damn, she was fucking gorgeous. My hand clenched and unclenched as I realized the wordcutewas utterly wrong when there were so many better words to describe her, like stunning, beautiful, tempting…

What does a few years of age difference matter anyway?

No. She had to stay off-limits.

She was Gigi’s granddaughter, and I didn’t want to screw upour friendship when I inevitably messed things up like I’d done with my ex-wife.

Pick up the kids and grab a pizza.

Get into bed early.

Do NOT flirt with the stunningly gorgeous Winslow sister.

I knew better than to get involved with her anyway. My dad had always advised against dating anyone you’d be unable to get away from if things didn’t work out. I’d lived across from Gigi my entire life. I loved her as much as I loved my own grandmothers. Getting into a relationship with one of her granddaughters was a bad idea.

Don’t shit where you live.Dad had said that to my brothers and me as we sat around the table for my youngest brother Tate’sthirteenth birthday dinner years ago. Apparently, he’d decided that since we were all teenagers, we were old enough to start hearing the wisdom he’d accumulated throughout his life. Family dinners became vastly more interesting after that night, much to our mother’s dismay.

It was good advice, and I should have taken it, considering ever since my divorce from the girl who’d grown up next door to me, I was forced to see her all over town with her new husband, who also happened to be my ex-best friend. The three of us had gone through school together since kindergarten.

They were hot and heavy in a way she and I had never been together, and it stung when I saw them for the first time in public. It’s too bad you couldn’t legally divide your local hangout places in a divorce.

They’d been carrying on behind my back for months before I caught them together. In my house. In my bed. Going at it like—I forced the mental image of it back outside of my head. Seeing it once was enough. I’d thrown them both out along with that damn bed and filed for divorce as soon as I found an attorney to handle it.

If I’d married someone I had gone to college with or someone from out of town, for example, she’d have moved back to wherever she came from, and I wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward sidelong glances from our shared acquaintances whenever we were in the same place at the same time.

Not that I wanted her back; I didn’t. I would never forgive him either, for that matter. What a shit friend he’d turned out to be. But after a lot of time and consideration—and a semi-public fistfight in the parking lot of Bookers Pub with said best ex-best friend—I realized we weren’t right for each other and never had been.

Bookers Pub and Grill was more than just a bar. You could take your family there for dinner. Unfortunately, my daughter was there having burgers with her best friend’s family when the fight broke out.

We’d taken it outside like the upstanding citizens we were, but it was still visible through the window, and Natalie had seen it all. The look on her face when my fist cracked into the jaw of her future stepfather still haunted me.

I never wanted to be in that kind of situation ever again—a spectacle to be mocked and pitied. I’d been humiliated and, tomy shame, had sunken to the level of the people who had hurt me with their dishonesty and betrayal.

But now, I was finally back in a good place. I had moved on. My heart was healed and locked up tight in my chest. No one would ever have the power to break it or put it on display like that ever again.

Needless to say, small-town living was not ideal when you were the center of attention, and everyone you ran into, no matter where you went, knew your history.

“Hello,” I greeted once I’d shaken myself out of my exhausted stupor.

“Hi.” Her voice was shaky. She was probably scared. Being stranded on the side of the road up here would even make me a bit nervous, and I could absolutely handle myself if any trouble arose.

The stretch between Colorado Springs and Cozy Creek was pretty desolate. Nothing but dark forest and steep drop-offs lined the winding highway that led to town. It would be intimidating for someone who wasn’t used to the drive.

“You remember me, right?” I spoke low, soft, and hopefully reassuringly. “From Gigi’s. I live across the street.” I held my hand out to her. “Cole Sutter.”

She took it, squeezing it tight between hers with a tremulous smile. “Yes, I really appreciate you stopping to help me. I’m Madison. Uh, in case you forgot my name.”

“I remember you, Madison,” I murmured, smiling slightly despite myself when her cheeks turned pink. “Can I grab yourthings for you?”

“Yes. Please.” She dropped my hand like a hot potato and gestured toward the front of the little VW Bug. “The trunk is up here; these old cars are weird.”

I watched as she turned to grab her purse from the driver’s seat. Her perfume floated through the air as she spun away—vanilla, combined with something earthy that tested my resolve to refrain from asking her out. “Don’t forget to lock it,” I instructed as I unloaded her bags from the trunk. Gigi said she called for a tow, but getting here will take a while.

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