Page 72 of A Photo Finish
My heart lurches in my chest.I what?
“You stuck around when you knew nothing about me. Like you enjoyed my company or something—and no one enjoys my company. Not anymore. But you were like a moth to flame that knew it would burn them, eventually. Beautiful and innocent. And strong. And I was so fucking scared of letting you get too close, of opening up. But you never forced my hand. You just quietly made me need you…” He scrubs at his stubble with one hand. “And then you left, and I told myself I was right all along—that everyone leaves me. Until the universe laughed in my face and shoved you right back into my life.”
I let out a breathy laugh and blink rapidly, turning his words over in my mind. “It sort of did, didn’t it?”
“And then you were just yourself. You didn’t miss a beat. You came back for more. Forced me out of my shell. So relentless. So fucking consuming. It’s like you’ve seen all my darkest corners and don’t give a shit about them. You’re not scared. You don’t look at me like I’m tragic. You look at me like we’re inevitable.”
My throat aches, and my eyes go glassy. I look at him with a watery smile because I don’t trust myself to speak. What I don’t say is . . .that’swhat scares me.
We are completely inevitable.
22
Cole
For the secondmorning in a row, I wake with Violet snuggled into my chest. She’s curled into me like she can’t get close enough. Little hands grasping at the white T-shirt I’m wearing, fisted into it to keep me close.
I smile, liking how it looks. Liking the thought that she wants me close. Liking waking up next to her, the smell of her on my sheets. Even the purring doesn’t bug me. Someone so small and dainty making that noise is just plain charming.
The sun filters in through the windows of the room, casting a sparkly glow over her pale hair. She looks downright angelic. With those pouty, rose-petal lips parted slightly, I can’t help but think back to sliding my cock between them, the way she’d kneeled before me and looked up into my eyes.
I feel myself swell.Fuck.That was something I’ll never forget. She might have been the one on her knees, but it felt more like I was the one begging. Even this morning, I feel like I should pinch myself. A woman like Violet wants me. And I can’t wrap my head around it.
She asked why her when I could have anyone I want. A comment that still makes me shake my head. I’m a thirty-six-year-old man with nothing to show for my years on earth except a company that was handed down to me and a nice lingering dose of PTSD from a dead dad and a blown-off leg. No house. No friends. No kids. I’ve always wanted kids, but here I am without a single one of those things on the horizon.
And in walks Violet, every one of those things readily available to her, and she wants what?Me? I just can’t reconcile it. I haven’t even tried to pretend I’m something else. I’ve been surly, unreachable, and the odd time I’ve given into her allure, I’ve ended up shoving her away like she’s nothing.
I realize she might be everything.
The light at the end of the dark tunnel. The sunshine my dark existence so desperately needs. I can’t stop myself from brushing my lips across her temple. She feels so precious wrapped up in my arms right now.
“Hi,” she murmurs quietly, nuzzling against my chest.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
“I’m glad you did. That’s a pretty good way to start the day.”
My heart thunders against my ribs.Is she serious?
This time, I press a kiss to her hair and cup the back of her head, still amazed she’s even letting me touch her. She’s so fucking precious.
“What time is it?” She doesn’t even poke her head out of our little cocoon.
I look over at the bedside table. “Eight.”
She groans. “I need to get going.”
“For what?”
“Into the city. I’ve got rides today on some of the younger horses early on. And then DD in the stakes this evening. You coming to watch?”
Her voice sounds so hopeful. I swallow roughly. I don’t love watching the races at the best of times. But now? After this? Having to watch Violet on a horse, running at breakneck speeds, over the ground where I watched my dad die? It feels impossible. Terrifying.
It feels like I need to call Trixie and confess some shit.
“Sure,” I say woodenly as I trail a hand over her slender back, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. Something that feels reassuring as I try not to fixate on the thought of her getting hurt out there. Or worse.
She slides a hand over my ribs and squeezes. “I’ll be fine.”
