Page 37 of Wrecked
“Are we finished?” Cole stood.
John did as well, placing his notepad and pen on his desk. “Don’t close off. Open yourself to the possibility of happiness. Despite what you think, you deserve it, Cole, like everybody else.”
Cole flinched. That was where he was wrong.
He didn’t deserve a damn thing.
Piper closed and locked the door on the garage, and then headed across the parking lot toward the cottage. She’d repaired a radiator leak on a car after closing, then gotten some more work done on her secret project. The Chevy was coming along nicely. After that she’d caught up on some office work. They’d hired a part-timer to help out with the paperwork, giving Piper more time in the workshop. But she still needed to put in hours behind her desk, and it was getting dark by the time she finished with the month’s accounts.
Cole still wasn’t home from work.
He’s avoiding you.
The previous two nights had been the same. He called and told her he was burning the midnight oil at work, which, okay, could be true, since the business had taken off with Cole as the new manager.
But she really didn’t think that was it.
He’s totally avoiding you.
The thought that he regretted what they’d done, to the extent that he didn’t want to come home and risk seeing her, made her belly churn like she’d downed a carton of sour milk.
As she hit her front lawn, a car door slammed across the street. A navy blue sedan with a big white and red sign on the door sat opposite her cottage. Daniel Taylor Real Estate.
Great, that’s all she needed. The guy didn’t understand the word “no.” She’d told him she wasn’t interested in selling until she was blue in the face. Shoving her hands in her pockets, head down, she made for the front door, pretending she hadn’t seen him. The guy was a menace. Not only did he show up at all hours, but he left phone messages and slid notes under her door like the one she’d found after Alex and Deke’s wedding.
“Ms. West!”
She gritted her teeth and turned to the persistent pain in the ass. “Look, Mr. Taylor, I’ve just finished work and I’m hungry. I don’t have time to talk.”
“Piper…can I call you Piper?”
“No, I’d rather you didn’t.”
“I just wanted to check in, see if you’ve had a change of heart. I have a very keen buyer. He’s willing to pay top dollar. You could buy a beautiful apartment in the city with what he’s offering.”
She’d tried to be polite, and it hadn’t worked. No matter how many times she told this asshole she wasn’t interested, he kept showing up. “I’m not selling. I have no intention of ever selling. So please don’t come back, because you’re wasting your time and mine.” She turned to leave, but he caught her arm.
“You’re making a mistake. You won’t get another offer like this.”
She yanked her arm free. “Do I need to call the police, Mr. Taylor? This is starting to feel like harassment.”
He smiled like a shark, eyes going hard. “You’re overreacting.”
“Just get off my property.” She didn’t wait to hear what else he had to say and speed walked to her front door, ignoring him when he called out, and locked herself inside. For the first time since Rusty and Alex moved out, she actually felt nervous.
She crept into the living room and, without turning on the light, peeked around the curtain. The jerk was back on the other side of the road, climbing into his car. He glanced over at the cottage one more time before slamming his door and speeding off. The breath she’d been holding escaped in a rush. With any luck, he’d stay away this time.
She headed to the bathroom for a quick shower, and when she was done, pulled on a pair of khaki shorts and an orange tank top. Then curling up on the couch with the romance novel she’d been reading, she settled in, picking up where she’d left off.
But it wasn’t happening. She tried to concentrate, but her mind wouldn’t settle, and she kept reading the same paragraph over and over. Throwing down her book, she went to the kitchen for a cold drink and couldn’t help looking out the window facing the garage. Still no Cole.
Shutting down her thoughts, she went back to the couch. Her day had been long and busy and, to top it off, was ending with a serious case of sexual frustration and no relief in sight. Not to mention her encounter with some creep harassing her on her own front lawn. If he showed up again, left her any more messages or notes, she was calling the cops.
She picked her book back up…
Bang, bang, bang.
The knock on the front door was loud enough to make her jump. “Shit.”
