Page 60 of Sneak Attack

He told me to get in my car and come here, Mama B would let herself in when she could get there.

“Was just sitting down to cross stitch while Dad was watching baseball. She’s good. Happy to head over.”

Based on the conversation we had last night, that didn’t surprise me.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, and went to open his door. He gestured for me to go first, but I paused at the threshold.

“Will I wake Jasper up? Or will Bongo?”

“Bongo’s kenneled in my room upstairs with the bathroom fan on, just in case.”

Oh. He’d thought of everything, but I still hesitated. Because Jasper was here…and what if…

No. He was asleep.

“Jasper’s asleep, Eden. I swear it. You’re good to go in.”

Of course he knew what I was thinking. Probably stamped all over my face, but it didn’t need to be. Cole could always read me like a well-loved book.

We entered and I moved to the side, off to a formal dining room to the right while he followed me in. Across the front entrance from me were closed French doors, all the wood I could see that same, dark walnut stain that’d been on his porch and chairs. The home was dark, but clean, at least the few rooms I saw, and the floors shined like they’d just been mopped.

I slipped out of my Birkenstock sandals and followed Cole through the house.

“Want anything to drink?”

“I’m good.” I was too mesmerized by the house, and at least one question I’d had was answered.

He’d made this a home. Family photos, professional ones, of him and Jasper at every stage of Jasper’s life hung on the wall by the stairs. Pictures with his mom and dad, in many of them, and there were some candids but still most likely shot with a professional camera of him throwing Jasper in the air while he was in his football uniform, sweat drenching his hair to his temples but the grin on his face made my heart thump double time.

He’d obviously just won a game and was celebrating on the field with his son.

“My first start with the Steel,” he murmured, and I hadn’t realized he’d stopped when I did, or maybe came back when he realized I wasn’t following him. “Wasn’t a home game, but since we knew I was starting, Dad brought Jasper to the game in Raleigh.”

“You’re a good dad.” It was out before I realized I said it and when I turned, faced Cole, he was giving me a look I couldn’t decipher.

Amused? Thankful?

“Because I held my son after I won a game and was happy about it?”

“No.” I shifted on my feet. “I can just tell. These pictures…your house.” From where I stood, I could see the kitchen off to my right and the family room beyond. All of it was done in the same warm, dark wood, but there were pops of brightness in the cream-colored, massive couch that could probably fit four linemen and the white marble countertops. Everywhere I could see were photos, with mature but simple and relaxing decor.

A small stack of envelopes at the edge of the kitchen island and a set of keys and probably Cole’s wallet next to it.

Other than that, everything else seemed to be in place, cleaned up, and the entire vibe of his home felt comforting and relaxing. Even with the shine of the floor.

“Everything is so clean.”

He laughed and nodded his head toward the kitchen. “Come on, and trust me, that takes work. I’m not the same high school kid who used to throw his crap all over the house and expect Mom to clean up after me. I’m already dreading the day when Jasper turns into that kid.” He reached into the fridge and pulled out two bottles of water. “I was still that same messy, irresponsible kid when I was in college, but after Jasper, well, everything changed. I didn’t want him to lack for anything, so I worked hard to give him the kind of life I had, a clean home, good food. Love.”

He lingered on that one that left my toes curling into the wood floor beneath my feet.

“Right,” I mumbled.

“And as far as everything being clean, Jasper sometimes goes to the diner and works with Teresa in the kitchen. He must have stomped through flour there today because he came home and tracked it all through the house before he took off his shoes, then skated across the floor for half the night, smearing it everywhere. It’s not always this clean.”

His lips lifted at the corner, that hint of a smile appearing beneath his scruff.

“Right,” I whispered.

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