Page 2 of L.O.V.E

Holden exploded from his chair, knocking the table, me, and my coffee off balance. Hot liquid scorched my chest. “Goddammit, Holden!” I cried, stumbling to my feet. A woman screamed. Men shouted from behind the counter.

Someone hooked an arm around my waist, pulling me to safety before our table flew. Behind me carried on the unmistakable grunts, huffs, and all-too-familiar smacks of a fight well under way.

Just another day in the life of Holden Oswald Travers the Third.

My vision blurred, rage washing away the humiliation.

One and a half years had been five hundred forty days too long to be acquainted with the fitness model/personal trainer/self-proclaimed media superstar, despite his boyish blue eyes, well-conditioned body, or his giant…ahem, never mind. For the record, size did not matter when attached to a narcissistic gym rat.

Without a second thought, or running to the aid of the innocent victim who’d done nothing but look at me, I stormed out the back exit.

Fuck Holden. He didn’t deserve the courtesy of a mature breakup.

And fuck that beautiful stranger and his mesmerizing stare.

Cole

Mesmerizing. Sweet Jesus, that woman knocked me for a loop, and then some. Right before her bulldog attacked.

Been a long time since anyone had gotten the jump on me. Too bad that silver-eyed angel hadn’t stuck around to watch me wipe the floor with her boyfriend.

The guy was all brawn and bravado. No brain. The type I was all too familiar with. A runaway train with faulty brakes. Only way to stop that path of destruction was by way of decommission. A few jabs for warm-up, then one strike to that square jaw, and the hot-head had dropped like a fly.

Even unconscious, the guy looked angry. Made no sense, that matchup. She was sunshine, and he was gloomier than the fall drizzle outside.

Not my problem, I reminded myself.

The police were called. An ambulance, too.

Witnesses confirmed my story. I’d been jumped and acting solely in self-defense. I wouldn’t press charges. Not worth my time.

The kicker? The woman had disappeared. I didn’t get a chance to make sure she was okay, and that bothered me more than losing thirty minutes of my morning.

Ellis waited outside, arms crossed over his massive chest, hip against my Roadster.“How is it you manage to destroy a cafe, but don’t get a speck of dust on your silk shirt?”

“Thanks for your help, asshole.” I bumped his arm as I passed.

“You had it handled. Besides”—he tapped on the door—“someone had to guard your shiny new car.”

I’d recently ditched my gas-guzzler for electric and, damn, she was a beauty. Quick, too. God bless Elon Musk. Ellis, two sizes too large for the vegan leather seat, never wasted a chance to be seen standing next to, or sitting inside, my sporty black Tesla. Always with the window down. Always with a cheesy grin on his face. Didn’t take much to keep my friend happy and, damn, I liked him happy.

I made my way to the driver’s side and told him over the roof,“Some over-juiced pretty boy didn’t like me looking at his girl.”

“What girl? And why the hell were you looking?”

“God’s honest?” I settled into the driver’s seat, waited for Ellis to tuck in.“I don’t fucking know.”

I knew. Didn’t like what had come over me. A strange sense of kismet, an unexplainable familiarity, an unholy attraction.

“Spell it out for me.” The skin between his thick brows wrinkled.

I merged into traffic.“I was minding my own business, waiting for our coffee, and I heard her voice. She sounded like Cadence.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. God, I missed my sister.“That’s what made me look. And, damn, the woman was beautiful. Had this aura. She glowed. Stopped me dead.” I refrained from waxing poetic about her silky blond hair, her pink, full lips, or eyes the color of cold steel.

“Aura?” Ellis laughed.“C’mon man. That’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“Yeah, I fucking know. Doesn’t change the fact it happened. Swear to Christ, when she looked at me, my brain short-circuited.”

“You’re lucky her boyfriend didn’t make a meal outta your skinny ass.”

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