I brought my eyes to hers to see if she shared any of the feelings that now consumed me. But I found her gaze averted, her eyes locked onto the cocoa mug by her feet. The only hint that she felt anything at all was the rush of red that now claimed her cheeks.
Chapter 11
ELISE
My face was going to burst into flames. Any minute now. I couldn’t look at him. I just couldn’t. If I did, Cole would know that I’d tossed and turned and obsessed about him the last two nights.
Why me? Why now?
I’d practically lived with the guy for years. Why was I suddenly cursed? It was like a snake bite or a fever. One minute I was fine. I could go to school… hang out with friends… work on my jewelry. All without thinking about Cole Whitehurst.
And then Alberta had to go and open her big mouth andBAM!Ruined.
All he had to do was touch my knee, and I wanted to fall into his lap. And, oh my God, did I want to fall into his lap. And not just to feel his body pressed against mine and know his kiss. I wanted those things. Ireallywanted those things.
But I also wanted to hold him and kiss his temple. His expression when he said that his mother didn’t listen to him left me gutted. I don’t think I’d ever seen that much pain in any pair of eyes. Ever.
I’d always felt bad for Cole and Ava. And I’d felt bad for Mrs. Abigail, too. But over the years — and especially over the last year or so — those feelings had evolved. Mrs. Abigail, I felt sorry for because she’d married a horrible man. But even I would admit that those feelings were on the shallow side. I mean, she was a grown woman. Even if she had been young and stupid when she’d said“I do,”she wasn’t young anymore. And, yeah, maybe she loved Mr. Whitehurst. But even at sixteen, I knew that if I ever found myself in her shoes, any love I had for a man would dry up the moment he hit me. Much less pushed me down a flight of stairs.
And even if I’d had such little regard for myself, I’d never be able to let my children stay with a man who hurt them. I could maybe understand her staying if she had nowhere else to go, but I’d learned in civics that Louisiana was a community property state. If Mrs. Abigail had really wanted to, she could have left Cole and Ava’s daddy and taken half of his money. And half of Garrett Whitehurst’s money should be enough for anyone. I mean, half of what he had was more than Mama and I would ever have.
So why would she put her children through that?
I knew from living in the guesthouse for so long that, over the years, Cole had gotten better and better at keeping Ava and his mama out of their father’s way. And the more I thought about it, the more I came to realize that the person who suffered the most, the person who carried the greatest burden in the Whitehurst family was Cole. For years, he had been the human punching bag, the shield that had taken most of his father’s blows. He’d stood up for everyone in that house.
But as far as I could see, no one had ever stood up for him.
So, when he put his hand on my knee and connected with me like I’d just been plugged into an electric socket, I wanted to put my hand over his so he would know what it felt like to be covered.
And so I did.
One minute he was touching my knee, explaining to me that he wasn’t laughingat me, my face beet-red from his touch. And the next minute, my hand was on his, and he was looking at me like I’d just sprouted horns.
Instead of pulling away like I probably should have, I let my fingers curl over the edge of his hand and tuck against his palm. In that one instant, I became aware of so many things. Cole Whitehurst’s hand was as solid and epic as it looked. His flesh pulsed with heat and power. And my heart raced as though someone held a gun to my head.
The smile on his face got lost in the widening of his eyes, and for the first time in my life, Cole Whitehurst looked afraid.
I must have lost my mind because I ignored that look and gave his hand a squeeze. And to my utter shock, Cole clutched my fingers in a fierce grip and squeezed back.
“You always surprise me,” he said, his voice dropping low, his expression warring between a mystified frown and a smile of delight. “That’s what I was going to say when you made me laugh. You always surprise the hell out of me.”
He still held my hand tight, and that tightness told me a secret. Cole Whitehurst actually wanted to hold my hand. And if he wanted to hold my hand, maybe he wanted other things… Things I now understood I wanted.
So, without thinking about how he would react or how I should behave or if anyone in the big house would see, I leaned in. I bent over our joined hands on my knee and let my lips touch his.
They were so warm that I knew mine must have been freezing. But he didn’t flinch like I would have. He held perfectly still for all of two seconds.
And then his mouth opened.
His lips seemed to catch mine the way butterflies were caught in a snare. One minute they were laying claim to air and sunlight, and the next they were surrounded on all sides by a net that was both invisible and everywhere at once.
Cole’s mouth on mine was all I knew. As soon as I realized he was kissing me back — really kissing me back — all I could do was feel. His mouth moved against mine as it both opened and urged mine to open. My pulse raced. It felt like a dance mix in my throat, and I could hear the rush of my breath as I gave in. He caught my bottom lip between his teeth, surprising the hell out of me. My blood flamed at the sensation. It made me feel wanted. Nobody had ever done that before.
His tongue brushed the edge of my lip, still trapped between his teeth, and then in one movement, Cole let it go only to sweep his tongue into my mouth just as the hand that wasn’t on my knee curled around my nape and pulled me closer to him. My tongue answered his call, moving to receive his.
“Mmm…” This gruff noise rumbled from his chest, drumming against mine. He tasted like need, and I couldn’t tell if it was his need or my own. But I was sure I didn’t want to stop.
Kissing Cole, I suddenly understood, was something I’d wanted forever. His acceptance, the permission to be close to him, had long been prizes I’d sought. The claim I heard in his rough growl touched me somewhere deep and secret. In the playroom of my heart. In the chapel of my lungs. Places I had long ago abandoned.