Page 76 of Hard Luck (Blackstone House)

He kissed my forehead. “We’ll be there soon. I’ll deal with our bags, and you can sleep for the rest of the day.”

Damn, this man was far too good for me.

“I’m also sorry about last night. I realise I’m blowing hot and cold, and I shouldn’t have said the things I did.”

“It wasn’t that I didn’t want to fuck you hard and dirty. I just didn’t want to do anything you’d regret in the morning.”

“My head is so messed up.”

He brushed hair away from my face.

“I’ll give you as long as you need to unravel those thoughts of yours. When you get things straightened out, let me know what you want.”

“I want you in my life,” I blurted.

Shit.

“Good.” This time, Cole kissed me on the lips. “I promise we’ll find a way to make this work for the both of us.”

I’d seen satellite photos of Cole’s home, but they didn’t do it justice. The inside was tasteful and minimalist, and he’d told me he did much of the work on it himself after he bought it in desperate need of renovation. The money had come from Uncle Mike, leftover from Cole’s generous college fund after he won several scholarships that cut his tuition costs.

“I have three spare bedrooms,” he said. “Pick whichever one you want.”

“What if I don’t want any of them?”

“How are your coins doing?”

“There are a few in the pot. And soon you’ll be gone for weeks.”

“My bedroom is the first door on the left at the top of the stairs. I’ll bring your suitcase, and if you need to work,there’s a desk in the corner of the living room. I can move my things to the side.”

I wasn’t a hugger, but it felt appropriate to wrap my arms around him at that moment.Sigh.“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t think like that.”

“It’s the truth.”

“It’s bullshit. What do you want for dinner? I can grill on the terrace if you want?”

“Fish?”

“I’ll catch something good.”

“Catch?”

“You won’t get fresher.”

I didn’t rest right away. No, when Cole drove off in an ancient but serviceable pickup, I did a walkthrough of the house. Old habits died hard. If it had been in Bora Bora, the villa would have been a million-dollar property with its spacious rooms and stunning views. Downstairs, the living room, dining room, and kitchen were arranged side by side so they all had views across the lagoon. A wide, partially covered terrace stood between the house and the beach, with another dining table and an outdoor kitchen. Frankie had been right—narrow steps led from the terrace, between two boulders, and down to an expanse of white sand. Most of the furniture was pale wood or white, and Cole was a better housekeeper than me because everything was spotless. The place was a far cry from Uncle Mike’s hodgepodge of doodads back in Vegas.

Upstairs, the master bedroom also looked out across the sea, and a huge tub took centre stage in front of the window, set into a platform with steps up from the main level. A small bookshelf sat alongside, and a trio of candles were arranged on metal plates. Did Cole seriously sit in his swimming pool of a tub and read by candlelight? He was more like Marcel than I’d ever suspected, although Marcelwouldn’t be going fishing any time soon. He freaked out if the fish from the grocery store came with eyes, and one of us had to cut the head off for him.

A shower room occupied the rear corner, and the other three bedrooms had en-suites as well. There was also a half bath off the foyer, and an outdoor shower graced the side of the deck. It was a beautiful house. A home.

No wonder Cole hadn’t wanted to come to Las Vegas.

The downsides were that he didn’t have an alarm system, and there were no locks on his windows. They all opened smoothly. Good in the event of a house fire, not so great if a burglar happened to swing by. The crime statistics for Emerald Shores were better than average, but every place had a criminal or two lurking in the background.

After I’d finished my recon, I nosed through Cole’s books. He seemed to be a fan of nonfiction. I picked out a hardcover chronicling the real pirates of the Caribbean and headed down to the terrace, where a pair of sun loungers offered a view of the handful of paddleboarders and swimmers making the most of the crystal-clear water. Maybe I’d try swimming later?

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