Perfect Fling (Serendipity's Finest 2) - Page 70

She swung back around. “I don’t know. But I have thirty-five hundred square feet to find a place far away from you.” With that, she walked out.

And Cole’s headache turned into a full-blown pounding in his temples.

• • •

Cole didn’t know how much more of this he could take. Two days had passed since he moved out of the master bedroom. By dinnertime on Monday, Erin had gotten over her fit of anger, but as the next couple days passed, Cole realized she’d changed the rules between them drastically.

Whereas she’d been letting him cook for them both when they were at her house, insisting she clean up in exchange, now she was taking care of herself. She beat him to the kitchen for every meal, heating up her mother’s food, adding a premade salad for dinner, also courtesy of her mother, and leaving him to figure out his own breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Of course, he was free to join her, she’d told him, and to eat whatever she was having if he wasn’t in the mood to cook. But she wasn’t doing anything for him.

She handled her own laundry but didn’t touch his. Straightened up the master bedroom and bathroom, along with anything she used in the kitchen, but left him to clean up after himself. She was perfectly pleasant and completely aloof, treating him like . . . she’d treat any bodyguard who’d been hired for the job.

No, he realized. Knowing Erin, she’d be nicer to someone hired to watch over her than she was to him. In fact, he felt sure she’d offer to heat up a second slice of lasagna along with her own, or pour a salad into an extra bowl.

He’d thought she wasn’t angry at him anymore, and maybe she wasn’t—but she clearly had an agenda. One he’d yet to figure out. All he knew was that they were in the same house, living even more separate lives than before they’d started sleeping together again.

She was back in independent Erin mode, and as much as he respected it, he hated it at the same time.

He stalked to the sliding glass doors of the kitchen and looked out, only to see her sitting in a lounge chair, a glass of water on the table, along with an e-reader of some sort beside it. She talked on her cell phone, waving an animated hand in the air.

But what struck him hardest was the bathing suit she’d chosen. Alone and away from friends, family, and prying eyes, Erin had chosen a purple bikini. A two-piece number that left nothing to the imagination.

The all-purple top exposed her now even more generous cleavage, while the bottom was the same color, cut high on the thigh, but a white band cut across her belly, and she’d rolled it down lower than necessary, enabling her to tan. He took in her generous curves and her softly rounded stomach and ground his teeth so hard, he wondered if he’d crack a molar.

Torturing himself wasn’t his style, and he’d just turned away when the doorbell rang.

Grateful for any reprieve, he went downstairs to answer it, surprised to see Mike and Cara waiting on the front porch.

He let the couple inside. “What’s up?” Cole asked, hoping like hell he wasn’t in for any kind of brotherly lecture.

“Cara wanted to see how Erin was doing and I

figured I’d tag along.”

“Erin’s out back. I’m sure she’ll be happy to have company.” Since she wasn’t including him in her daily interactions and plans.

“Let’s all go out back. It’s nice out.”

“This way.” Cole led them to the kitchen and the sliding doors, taking them out back.

Erin didn’t seem all that surprised to see them, and when Cara stripped off her top, revealing a bikini that Mike couldn’t stop ogling, Cole wondered if Erin hadn’t invited the couple over without his knowledge.

At this point, nothing Erin did should surprise him. Acting like the host of the house, he offered everyone a drink, brought sodas out back, and finally got himself settled in a chair next to Mike.

“You look like hell,” Mike said, stretching his legs out in front of him.

“Thanks. Aren’t you two supposed to be at work?”

Mike grinned. “It’s Cara’s day off and I’m the boss.”

“Any news?” Cole wanted Victoria caught already.

Mike shook his head. “Positive ID on Victoria Maroni as the one who paid Brass to shoot Erin, but that’s all. In the meantime, I’ve got people watching Erin’s house and your apartment. We’ve both got people in Manhattan covering Maroni’s favorite places before she went into Witsec. And we’re discreetly showing her picture around Serendipity at places like the supermarket or Joe’s. Nothing.”

Cole exhaled low and hard. “I’m losing it,” he muttered.

“I noticed there’s been no looks between you two, no little touches, what gives?” Mike eyed him warily.

Cole didn’t have much to lose by telling the truth. “You’ll be happy to know I’ve come to my senses. I’m giving Erin space until this is over and I’m gone.”

Tags: Carly Phillips Serendipity's Finest Romance
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