Don't Tell (Don't 1)

“Peabody’s has a pretty mean cheeseburger. How does that sound?”

“Awesome.” I grinned. Just the thought of a burger right now made my mouth water.

“One cheeseburger coming right up. What can I get you to drink?”

I surveyed the row of liquors behind the man. The oversized bottle of Jose Cuervo caught my eye. “I would love a margarita.” Mary Ellen and the other girls were likely ordering pitchers of them right now.

“You’re here by yourself?”

I gulped down the first half of the margarita before answering. “Yep. Stupid idea I guess.”

“I don’t usually do this, but here.” He jotted something down on a napkin and slid it across the bar.

I read the numbers. Oh my God. Did he just give me his phone number? Maybe he wasn’t the paternal type after all.

“I’m Hank. If you need anything while you’re here, you give me a call. That’s my cell. Anything. I’m serious. It makes me a little nervous knowing a young girl like you is here alone.”

I sighed. He was doing something my father would do. “Thanks, Hank. That’s really sweet. I’m Kaitlyn.”

“Where are you staying? One of the big resorts?” He dried a beer pilsner before placing it on the shelf.

“No. My boyfriend, I mean my ex-boyfriend, stole my room. The only place I could get a room was the Dune Scape.” I hoped it didn’t take me long to stop making that mistake about Branch.

Hank chuckled. “The ole Dune Scape, you say. That place has seen better days.”

“Yeah, it is in serious need of a makeover.” I tasted the salt on the rim of the glass. Someone should call HGTV and have them do a motel crashers episode on the place.

“Cole’s working on it. It’s going to take some time. There’s a lot of work over there for one man to handle.”

“Cole? You know him?”

“Orders up!” a high-pitched voice called from the other end of the bar.

Hank turned to retrieve my cheeseburger from the cook. He placed the plate in front of me.

“Taste it. Go on. Try it.” He waited for my first bite.

I didn’t need much prodding. My stomach growled at first sight of the plate of food. A pile of fries spilled over the side and onto the counter.

“Mmm-hmm,” I managed to mumble through my first bite of the cheeseburger.

“Told ya. Best burger on the island.” Hank threw a towel over his shoulder and moved down the bar to help a new customer.

The last ounce of my drink tasted especially limey. I could feel waves of the tequila starting to warm my limbs. Hank delivered a second drink to me with an extra lime. Maybe it was the country crooner or the margarita, but for the first time all day, I felt relaxed.

Then, he walked in.

It was impossible to ignore the broad shoulders on his athletic frame as he passed between the pool players. He was almost a head taller than the other guys in the bar. He no longer wore the paint-splattered T-shirt. His hair looked damp, like he had just taken a shower. The blue plaid button-up shirt he wore was rolled up to his elbows. He was sexy in that silent, mysterious way, but Cole shouldn’t be mysterious to me.

He used to come home with Ryan at Christmas break. He used to wake up on our couch. I had seen him brush his teeth. I’d seen him play basketball in our driveway. I’d watch him fight with Rayn over Halo. I knew this guy.

But something about being in South Padre made me wonder if I knew this Cole. I didn’t know Cole the committed man. Cole the father. Cole who worked at Dune Scape.

I was way too curious about him and trying too hard to catch a glimpse of his eyes again. I focused on the limes floating in my drink.

“Hey, Cole. How’s it goin’?” Hank asked over the guitar player who had amped up his performance.

Cole sat on a stool a few spots from me. “Hey, Kaitlyn.”