Page 40 of The Rebel Heir

Jillian was relieved to enter her apartment. It was nearly midnight. She was bushed and thankful to have the next day off. The restaurant’s renovation and more updated look had increased bookings and the entire night she and her team had been swamped with orders. During the work, the fatigue had been beaten off with energy, a desire to perfect and a need to please each patron. Afterward, without work to fuel her, exhaustion was queen.

She eased everything to the floor by the closed front door, including the clothes she wore. Naked, she freed her topknot and shook her curls out as she made her way down the hall to her bedroom. Not even the pastel colors against a white backdrop gave her their usual boost as she entered the en suite bathroom and treated herself to a quick shower and washed her hair to free it of the smell of food clinging to her.

Once done, she stood in the shower and inhaled deeply of the steam now scented with her favorite soap and shampoo. The only thing she had left to do for the night was to call Cole. Looking forward to seeing his face and hearing his deep voice spurned her to open the fogged door to step out and wrap a plush white towel around her damp hair and then her body.

She retrieved her phone from her bag by the door. Quickly made her way back to the bedroom to sit cross-legged on the foot of the bed. She had missed calls and texts.

She chuckled at the funny meme her grandmother had sent of the sensual silver-haired man from the Dos Equis commercial—the most interesting man in the world. Ionie thought he was one of the sexiest men in the world and made no qualms about it.

Her father just wanted her to know he missed his daughter.

Her mother wanted a recipe for a meal to cook for her father for their upcoming anniversary.

Warren requested a call back when she had time.

With plans to call her family and friend the next day. Jillian returned Cole’s missed call instead. She struck several cute poses as she waited for him to answer. She was disappointed when he never did.

Maybe he’s asleep, she thought as she rose to plug the power cord into her phone before setting it on the turquoise-tinted glass bedside table.

Cole had always insisted she call to let him know she’d made it home safely. It would be the first night since her return from the east coast that he hadn’t answered. She turned off the clear globe lamp and dropped the towel around her body to the floor before climbing under the covers, enjoying he feel of the cool, crisp sheets against her skin as she looked out the window at the half moon. Snuggling one of her plump pillows to her side helped in how much she missed Cole’s body beside her, but not by much.

Never had she expected to long for him in her life. Love had not been a part of her plan, but here she was. And she loved him.

His humor.

His smile.

His advice.

His loyalty.

His strong hugs.

His kisses.

His lovemaking.

She pressed her thighs and knees together as the bud nestled beneath the lips of her intimacy swelled with life. Some attention from his clever tongue was just what she needed to send her into a deep sleep. Cole’s loving was the epitome of the Energizer bunny.

And of her fear of being hurt.

It lingered but was repeatedly defeated as her methods at wooing him seem to succeed. Cole seemed more like himself. Fun, charming, and with a ready smile.

The job at CRESS III was affording her choices—more than she’d had in a long time. She was steadily paying down her insufferable debt, helping her parents with her grandmother’s in-home nursing care, and able to treat herself a little. The job didn’t bring her the same freedom and joy of working for herself, but the stability it offered was clear.

And after financial ruin, that was important.

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzz.

Her heart jolted at the sudden loud vibrations of her phone against the glass. She flopped over to snatch it up and smiled athiscontact picture on the screen. She answered. “Hey, Cole,” she said, touching the globe to illuminate the bedroom some.

He gave her the grin that made all her pulses race. “You in bed already?” he asked.

“Not sleeping,” she assured him, feeling a tiny niggle of shock at how accommodating she was willing to be for him.

The Jillian of old had only cared about having her sexual appetited sated.

The new territory in which they’d ventured was still a little frightful because she was phobic of love.

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