Page 57 of Chasin' Cole

-Clint

Clint Turner. The guy Cole spends most of his assignments with. I wonder how he got my email address? I guess it wouldn't be too hard. My business page is easy to find on Google. And Cole doesn't have a lock screen on his phone. He's an open book.

I decide to respond.

Thanks, Clint. I hope you're doing OK, too.

I hitsendand close my eyes. All I see are Cole's charcoal eyes.

I guess road trips put things into perspective. We don't always grow in the light. Sometimes, we need the darkness to remind us we can still thrive, even when the elements make it hard to.

Chapter 21 – Frozen

“Thank you,” I say to Jordan as he pulls my chair out at some fancy steak restaurant Lacey recommended in Tulsa.

I take my seat as he slides the chair under me.

Jordan.

The guy from New York that Lacey tried settin’ me up with a while ago. The one who moved here for a job offer. The one I blew off because Cole wanted to kiss in the barn.No, don’t think about Cole right now, Rose!

I don’t know why I agreed to this. Goin’ on a date with someone else. Brock said it would be good for me to test the waters. Not that he did much testin’ before he married Lacey. He had one girlfriend before marryin’ his wife two weeks after meetin’ her. If anyone should be dolin’ out advice, it’s not him.

Jordan sits across from me and runs a hand through his blond, shaggy hair. “Lacey said this place is pretty good.”

“I think she and Brock came here for their four-year weddin’ anniversary,” I divulge. “She talked about it for months after that. She grew up in Los Angeles. I think she’s missed the fine dinin’.”

“Lacey doesn’t really fit in around here, does she?” Jordan smiles.

I shrug. “Not really.”

The waiter appears dressed in a white button-down dress shirt and black slacks. He offers me the wine list. My 21st birthday was a few weeks ago, but I’m not willin’ to drink with a stranger. I’ve read too many horror stories online.

I shake my head, declinin’. “Just water for me.”

Jordan orders somethin’ I’ve never heard before. I think it’s safe to say I don’t get out much. But as I watch him converse back and forth with the waiter, I can’t help but wonder what Cole would have ordered if he had brought me here. Probably a coke. Cole's never been big on drinkin'.

If he was sittin’ across from me, would I have ordered a glass of wine? The answer makes my heart tumble in my chest. Yes, I would have.

When the waiter disappears with our drink order, Jordan’s eyes fall back on me. I feel bad. He seems like such a nice guy. One who was willin’ to make reservations for our date. He even picked me up and drove all this way. But my heart refuses to defrost. Frozen rivulets of ice have settled in after Cole left and they won’t budge.

“Tell me about yourself,” Jordan gives me a toothy grin as I fiddle with the white, cloth napkin on my plate.

“Well,” I shrug, “I think I learned how to ride a horse before I learned how to ride a bike. And since then, horses have always been my life. I used to compete in all kinds of competitions when I was younger. Jumpin’ and cross country. I have a box full of 1st place ribbons somewhere. I didn’t like comin’ in second, so I made sure I always got first. Now, I kind of like just takin’ care of horses. I don’t compete anymore. And I’m tryin’ to expand my boardin’ operations. I applied for a business license at City Hall to make it official.”

Jordan tilts his head to the side. “So, you're an entrepreneur then?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “I guess you could say that.”

“I like the sound of your laugh,” Jordan shyly confesses as he rests his elbows on the table.

But the smile on my face falters.

“So,” I try to recover before he notices by my expression that my heart’s longin’ for someone else. “What’s your story?”

The waiter stops by our table and drops off our drinks. After Jordan tells him we’ll need a few more minutes to look over the menu, his green eyes sparkle beneath the yellow glow of the chandelier. I hate that I'm not attracted to him. But he doesn't have dark hair or charcoal eyes. He’s not Cole Strickland.

“I was born in the city, but I always dreamt about living in a small town,” he says before reachin’ for his drink and takin’ a sip. “When they had a job opening here, I jumped at the chance to live in small town Oklahoma.”

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