Page 24 of Falling for Cocky Cole
Cole parks the Jeep beside his brother’s truck. He carries Emily in his arms while I grab the booster seat, and together we walk toward the house. Grant opens the front door before we even reach it.
"Everything's under control," Cole tells Grant as we hand over a sleepy but content Emily. "Milkshake emergency averted."
Grant looks between us, his gray-blue eyes lingering on me for a moment. "Thanks for staying late. And for handling... all this."
"Cole gets all the credit," I admit. "I couldn't have managed without him."
Grant turns to his brother. "Thanks, Cole. Seriously."
Cole flashes a grin. “Anytime. Especially when it means spending the evening with your charming nanny.”
Grant’s jaw tightens, just slightly.
I glare at Cole, but he doesn’t care. Instead, he turns to me. “I’ll see you later?”
“Yes,” I say, aware of Grant’s curious eyes.
As Cole heads to his Jeep, Grant and I step into the house. “You’ve got somewhere to go?” he asks.
I stammer a little. “Just a dinner at Cole’s house. He invited me.”
“Oh,” he says tersely. “I didn’t know he cooks.”
“Me neither,” I reply with an apologetic shrug.
He doesn’t say another word but carries Emily to her bedroom. I put the booster seat back in its usual place and quickly tidy the living room. When Grant comes out again, I say goodbye to him and head for the door.
13
IVY
Minutes later, I pull up behind Cole's Jeep. The Carters' house sits nestled among pines, windows glowing amber against the deepening twilight. My stomach flutters with nerves that have nothing to do with hunger. I'm still not sure what I'm walking into—a simple dinner or something more complicated. After shutting off the engine, I sit for a moment, gathering courage that shouldn't be necessary for a meal with friends. But then, friends don't usually see you half-naked on top of their brother.
When I finally make it to the door, Cole opens it before I can knock, as if he's been watching for me. He's wearing a navy blue apron over his flannel shirt, and somehow the domestic touch makes him even more attractive.
"You came," he says, relief evident in his voice. "I was starting to think you might bail."
"I considered it," I admit, stepping inside.
Cole's hands find my waist immediately, drawing me closer. "I'm glad you didn't." His eyes drop to my lips, and despiteall my conflicted feelings, my body responds with embarrassing eagerness. When he kisses me, it's gentle but insistent, leaving me no room to resist.
I lean into the kiss, letting myself enjoy the warmth of his mouth, the slight roughness of his stubble against my cheek. But then I hear a clatter from deeper in the house—a pot or pan being set down—and I break away, suddenly alert.
"Is someone else here?" I ask, though I already know the answer.
On cue, Caleb appears in the kitchen doorway, also wearing an apron—his a faded green with what looks like a pasta sauce stain across the front. He raises a wooden spoon in greeting.
"Hey, Ivy," he says, his hazel eyes meeting mine for just a second before darting away. He looks almost shy, a rare expression for someone usually so self-assured.
Heat floods my face as memories of the barn rush back—Caleb's shocked expression when he saw me topless, straddling Cole. The absolute mortification that sent me fleeing into the night.
"I thought..." I turn to Cole, confusion and embarrassment battling for dominance. "I didn't realize Caleb would be here."
Cole's hand settles on the small of my back, steadying. "I didn't say he wouldn't be," he points out, though his smile suggests he knows exactly what he's done. "Caleb wanted to cook dinner for you. Sort of an apology for, you know, walking in on us the other night."
"That's...nice, but it's really not necessary," I manage, though my voice sounds strained even to my own ears.
"Of course it is," Cole says, guiding me toward the kitchen. "He ruined our moment. You nearly stopped seeing me altogether because of it."
