One Bossy Dare

Me, specifically, asleep in his arms on the hammock in a green Hawaiian oasis. I took this after you fell asleep. You were too fucking cute not to.

There go my worries again.

I’m smiling like a moonstruck fool at the memory.

If only I could hold on to that.

But if his wife’s death is making him hold back, making him hesitate, then all our happy Hawaiian memories are tainted.

And if coffee and secrets are all we have, then it’s one bad cup I can’t stomach.

18

Fine Grind (Cole)

It’s been almost a week since my sushi date with Eliza, when I promised her I wouldn’t go three days without kissing her again.

Still, I get the nagging feeling she’s avoiding me.

If I’m being honest, she was distant, even that night.

She’s been all fucking distance since we came home from the island. Why?

It’s past nine o’clock when I head down to the lab.

Not only is she still working, she’s there alone, the other techs and supervisors long since ducking out for the day. She stands over a marble counter, measuring beans and mixing them with something I can’t see from here.

I walk up behind her, lock my arms around her waist, and kiss her neck like a man possessed.

“Kissing me at work? Very bold.” She relaxes into me with a soft laugh. “What are you doing here?”

“I promised I wouldn’t go three days without kissing you again, and I’m done with blue balls.” I kiss her neck again. “Come home with me tonight.”

She doesn’t turn toward me, but she doesn’t pull away either.

I watch as she carefully finishes dicing toasted coconut with my arms around her.

“You’ve got half an hour before security closes up for the night,” I remind her.

“Ugh, don’t remind me.” She rolls her eyes. “Look, I won’t turn into a pumpkin at ten, if the coffee robbers outside don’t break in and steal me away first...”

“That’s another minute gone,” I say, tapping my watch.

Despite her smile, her eyes never leave her tiny strip of toasted coconut.

“Come the fuck home with me. It’s been too long. I miss you, and so does my cock.”

I feel her shudder deliciously in my arms.

She sets her knife down and turns to face me, but not with her usual enthusiasm. “Cole, where is this going?”

Oh, boy. Now I know I’m about waist-deep in shit.

“What do you mean?”

“A few days before you were Mr. Smith and we hid in a private room. You were ready to—” She does a faux deep voice and uses finger quotes now. “‘Handle HR and whatever else—’” She drops the fake voice and puts her hands down. “Then you needed two extra days before having dinner with me...I get it. I gave you an easy out.”

She’s not wrong.

Everything happened just like she says and I realize it’s worrying.

Still.

“What easy out?” I throw back.

“I told you, it was just a matter of time before someone found out about us, and you swore you didn’t care. Obviously, you do.”

“I’ll go to HR as promised. I just thought—”

“No, don’t apologize. I’m not angry,” she rushes out.

“You sure? You sound pissed.” I stare, trying to decipher the strange, conflicted look on her face.

She hugs herself with a heavy sigh.

“Cole, I’m sorry. I get overly emotional sometimes. It’s complicated—I get that—and I’m not upset with you.” She pauses, inhaling sharply. “Troy came to see me the other day. He told me he’s been worried about you and Destiny for years.”

What the hell? It’s bad enough that Troy runs his mouth more than he should with my daughter, but now my woman too?

“He’s right about that,” I clip. “I just don’t appreciate him having that talk with you before I get a chance.”

“Oh, no. He was totally polite. I was the one asking nosy questions, and he said I should talk to you when I asked too many.” She holds her hands up. “Look, I know you’ve never fully gotten closure with your wife’s suicide. I’m sure that’s why you don’t know what you want with me, and—”

“What did you say?” I cut her off.

I stop cold, arms folded, ice sweeping through my veins.

Her face falls. “Jesus, I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. I just—”

“Before that. Back the fuck up.”

“You never fully let go of, um, Aster...” Her voice is so small, and the word that’s missing—suicide—is almost deafening with its absence.

“Eliza, whatever the hell happened to her is none of your goddamn business. Understand?” I turn away from her.

I can feel her staring, but she’s too scared to say another word.

Shit.

I knew we’d need to touch on my past sooner or later, but not like this. It’s all coming out wrong and I’m angry, snarling at her like a wounded animal.

I look at her sad, wide eyes.

“It’s deeply personal, Eliza,” I try again. “I’m willing to discuss it without being ambushed like this. And for the record, Aster didn’t kill herself.”