He's So Fine (15 page)

Olivia sucked in a breath and tried to look like she deserved credit for that, but Cole went still, and then cocked his head. “Tell me you’ve done this before, met a guy’s mom.”

Actually, no. No, she hadn’t. Not once.

“Olivia? Am I the first guy who’s ever brought you home?”

Her throat was tight again. Damn it. She decided to ignore the embarrassing and far too revealing fact that yeah, he was her first…whatever he was. “What’s important here is that I think your mother actually likes me. I’m not going to get caught in the pantry with her favorite son and jeopardize that.”

“I’m her
only
son,” he said. “But you’re right, she does like you.”

The knowledge made Olivia glow a little bit, even as she squirmed with…discomfort. His family cared about each other, and it was genuine. Even the thing between Cole and his sister wasn’t dysfunctional. They didn’t throw booze bottles at each other, light each other’s bedrooms on fire, sleep with each other’s boyfriends, steal money…

Instead, they fought. And then hugged and made up.

“I like you, too,” he said, and this only served to give her more warm fuzzies. And more terror.

“Olivia,” Cole said, voice low.

Kind.

Warm.

She met his gaze and he crooked a finger at her, the universal sign for
come here
.

And though she wanted to resist, wanted to walk away, her feet took over, bringing her right to him.

C
ole had wondered if Olivia would relax enough to have a good time. When he’d caught a glimpse of her tears, his heart had stopped. But he’d quickly realized that she’d been deeply touched by his family, and possibly missing hers. “Come here, little mermaid,” he murmured, wrapping her in his arms when she stepped into him.

“You going to pillage and plunder?” she asked softly.

“Yeah.” Actually, what he was going to do was his damnedest to erase the sorrow from her eyes. Spreading his legs, he pulled her into the V until they were snug against each other.

“Your sisters are—”

“Crazy?” he asked. “Yeah. I know.”

“I was going to say nice,” she said.

“Huh.” He laughed a little. “That’s a word I haven’t heard associated with them before.”

Smiling, she shook her head. “You love them. You’re close.”

He blew out a sigh. “For better or worse. That surprises you.” He held her gaze, trying to see inside her, to the secrets she held so close to her heart. “Tell me about your family, Olivia.”

She pressed her face into his throat. He could feel her lips on him. Since this threatened to derail his thought process, he urged her head up so that he could see her face again.

Her eyes remained on where she’d nipped him on the Adam’s apple. “Olivia,” he called.

She pressed her hips to his, rocking the softest part of her against what was now the hardest part of him. With a groan, he tightened his grip on her, holding her still. “Were you close to your family?” he asked.

“It’s been a long time.”

He heard the pain in her voice and he softened his hold, cuddling her into him. “Kiss me, Supergirl.”

She didn’t hesitate, lifting her mouth to his, opening when he gently nipped her lower lip, sucking her tongue into his mouth with a soft moan that had him insta-hard.

And that’s when the door opened.

A three-and-a-half-foot-tall minion stood there. Jonathan, Clare’s mini-me, stared at them, taking in the way Cole was gripping Olivia close with one hand, his other cupped the nape of her neck. “Uncle Cole?”

“Yeah, buddy,” Cole said, hearing the residual huskiness in his voice.

“Why were you swallowing the Little Mermaid’s tongue?”

“I wasn’t,” Cole said. “I was…” You were what, genius? “Checking her tonsils.”

Jonathan turned his gaze on Olivia, awe in his eyes. “When I get to be big like you,” he said to Cole, “I wanna check the Little Mermaid’s tonsils, too.” And then he slammed the pantry door shut, the sound of his little feet running out of the kitchen echoing around them.

Cole grinned and pulled Olivia back in. “Where were we?”

“We can’t,” she said a little breathlessly, which was damn good for his ego. “We can’t do it here.”

No, regrettably, they couldn’t. But he intended to chase away the last of her sadness. And he knew a really great way to do that, too. Nuzzling her throat, he opened his mouth, sucking on a patch of her soft skin.

She melted into him like her knees had liquefied.

Also gratifying.

“But someone might come,” she whispered.

Yeah, he’d like that. He’d like it to be
her
, coming all over him. “We’re not going to do it now.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding so disappointed he laughed against her soft skin.

“
We’re
not going to do it,” he said again. “Just
you
.”

Her eyes flew to his. “What? No, I—”

He cupped a breast in his left hand, letting his thumb rasp lightly over her nipple, back and forth.

“Oh,” she breathed softly into his mouth. “Oh, that feels good.”

His other hand slid down her back to squeeze her sweet ass. “What’s beneath this skirt?”

A soft huff escaped her, and she dropped her forehead to his shoulder. “I had to be careful of VPL.”

He had sisters. He knew what VPL meant—visible panty lines. “Are you telling me you went commando?” he asked, his voice as rough as sandpaper.
If there is a God
…

“No!” Another soft huff of laughter. “I didn’t go entirely without…”

Taking that as a challenge, he slid his hand into the skirt’s waistband and cupped her backside.

Oh Christ, yeah. She was wearing the teeny-tiniest G-string he’d ever had the pleasure of exploring. He let his fingers do the talking, tracing the narrow strip of barely there silk south until she gasped.

“Spread your legs, Little Mermaid,” he whispered.

The skirt didn’t give her much room, but he got an inch or two when she did as he’d asked and shifted. He stroked her until she fisted her hands in his shirt at his pecs and was breathing in hot, short pants against his throat, her hips pressing into him with every stroke of his fingers.

“Cole,” she whispered, voice tight and a little desperate.

He slid his hand around to her front, letting the tips of his fingers glide beneath the little triangle of silk.

Thankfully the waistband of her skirt had loosened even more, and with her quickening breath, it gaped at every inhale.

“Cole,” she choked out. “I need—”

“This?” His fingertips slid south.

She moaned.

And more south, until he was letting out a shaky breath of his own. The silk was drenched.

Scraping it to the side, the pads of his fingers rasped over her bare flesh now. Soft, wet, heated flesh.

She said his name again, her fingers tightening on him when he stroked her. “Oh, please,” she whispered, straining against him. “We’ve got to stop, I’m going to—”

“Come, Supergirl. I want you to come for me.”

“Oh, my God. I—” Her head fell back, her eyes at half mast, her mouth in a surprised
O
. Her thighs clamped his hand as if she was worried he’d do as she’d said and stop.

No chance in hell.

Leaning in closer, he kept his fingers busy with her rhythm as he took a little tour of her throat, working his way down to her collarbone. Still cupping her breast, he lifted it from the corset and sucked her into his mouth.

When she came, he surged up and ate her soft, delicious little cries with his mouth. He brought her down gently.

“Holy cow,” she breathed, finally sagging back. “I can’t believe how fast you can do that to me.” She let out a low laugh, and then shocked him by dropping to her knees and reaching for the zipper on his pants.

He caught her wrists and she tipped her head up to his, face still flushed from her orgasm. “Turnabout’s fair play,” she said softly.

The eroticism of having her on her knees, her mouth level with an erection he could have hammered nails with, was nearly enough to tip him over the edge, but he controlled himself.

Barely.

With a rough groan, he pulled her up to her feet.

“No?” she asked.

“Yes,” he said.
God, please, yes
. “Trust me, I need to get you naked in the worst possible way. But it isn’t going to happen in my mother’s pantry. And it’s not going to happen with you in costume. I love it, but this time I want just you. No costume, nothing but Olivia beneath me.”

She stared at him, looking utterly dumbstruck.

“What?” he asked her.

“Nothing,” she whispered.

It was more than nothing, but there was little he could do to press her here in the closet. “We’ve got to get out of here. I have a feeling our time is just about up.”

And sure enough, right on cue, they heard footsteps.

“Cole?” Clare called from the kitchen. “Cole, where the hell are you? Mom wants a Cosmo, and you’re the only one who can ever make them to her satisfaction, you suck-up.”

Cole helped Olivia straighten out her skirt, though there was little he could do about the just-had-an-orgasm glow to her cheeks.

“I owe you,” she said softly, her voice low and throaty and full of promise.

“I like the sound of that,” he said, and caught her just before she escaped to give her a quick, hard kiss. “A pirate always collects on his debts.”

Fifteen minutes later, Olivia was standing at the edge of the makeshift dance floor in the courtyard, watching Cole behind the bar mixing drinks on demand, when someone tugged at her skirt.

The Lorax.

He had two fingers in his mouth and was drooling down his chin. With his other hand, he tugged on Olivia’s skirt again. “Up!”

“Uh…” Olivia looked around for Cindy. She found her not two feet over, arguing with Thing One and someone else who might or might not have been the Cookie Monster.

“Up!”

“Okay, okay.” Sheesh. Were all the Donovan men demanding? Olivia obeyed the imperious command and scooped up the Lorax, looking into a pair of eyes the color of the ocean. “Hi,” she said as she felt her phone vibrate again from within her tiny gold purse.

It’d been doing so with annoying regularity tonight, a flurry of texts from her mother and sister, which she’d been ignoring.

The Lorax looked at Olivia’s wig, said “Da!” reverently, and put both fists in the red strands.

“You like the hair, huh?”

He pressed his face into it.

“Kyle’s going to be a hair man,” Cindy said, coming over to rescue her. She took her son and expertly shifted him to a hip. “You’re good with kids.”

“I’ve no idea, to be honest,” Olivia said. “I’m new to kids.”

“You’ve got the touch.”

“How do you know?”

“’Cause you picked him up without worrying about your gorgeous costume,” Cindy said. “And that just bought you the seal of approval from this mom.”

Olivia was still glowing when she went back to the bar. Cole had shoved up the sleeves of his pirate shirt past his sinewy forearms. The hat had been tossed aside, leaving just the bandana and beaded dreads, and damn.

Damn if he didn’t look hot as hell.

When her phone vibrated again, she took a quick peek at it just to make sure there wasn’t a life-or-death situation.

Jolyn had gotten right to the point.

Oh hell no was her sister going to come here. Except…Olivia closed her eyes. She would. For money, Jolyn would do just about anything. She’d show her face here in Lucky Harbor, smell Olivia’s happiness, and ruin it somehow.

Panic, unreasonable as it might be, clutched at Olivia’s heart. Cole joked about Clare, Cindy, and Cara being a coven, but he had no idea. None. She looked up and found his eyes on her, narrowed in concern. He said something to Iron Man, and then he was drying his hands on a towel and walking toward her.

She forced a smile onto her face and started to take a step back, knowing she needed a moment to gather herself. But she got an unexpected helping hand when Amelia stepped in front of Cole, looking animated.

Cole’s gaze shifted from his mom to Olivia as he spoke. His mom put her hands on his arms and he cut his eyes back to her. He spoke softly, and with what looked like a great gentleness, and then he hugged her. Amelia cupped her son’s face, kissed both cheeks, and let him go.

Olivia realized she’d lost her chance to bolt when Cole came right to her. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”

“Yep.”

“Because you just looked at your phone like you had bad news.”

He was far too observant, not that this surprised her. Most men didn’t notice the little stuff, but Cole never missed a thing. “What’s up with your mom?” she asked. “She seemed upset.”

His jaw tightened. “She’s got a problem that is now my problem.”

“Can I help?”

He pulled her in and brushed his mouth over her temple. “Look at you, being all sweet.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

He huffed out a warm laugh against her. “It’s one of my sisters. She had something to talk to my mom about tonight, and some decisions were made. She needs me. Or rather, my mom needs me to butt into her life.”

She pulled back and looked into his face. There was regret there, but no anger. He wasn’t doing this to impress anyone, or to gain favor. “You really do love all of them.”

“Sometimes I have to really reach for it, but yeah, I do. Warts and all. That’s a family, right?”

“Right,” she said as if she knew, when really she had no idea. “It’s Cara?” she guessed.

“Almost always,” he said. “She needs me to help her move out of her husband’s apartment and back into this house.”

It didn’t escape Olivia that both of them had family who wanted something from them, and that only Cole was going to jump in and do whatever was needed, without hesitation. “And what do
you
need?” she asked.

He stroked a finger over her jaw. “A rain check from you.”

T
he next day, the bell above the shop door rang and Olivia looked up to see Cindy Donovan. She was carrying Kyle, who gurgled in pleasure at the sight of Olivia.

Cindy looked around. “Nice place.”

Kyle said something, too. “Yabbayabbayabba.” Then he grinned at Olivia with pride, and her ovaries actually ached.

Closing the laptop she’d been working on, she came around the counter. “Looking for anything special?” she asked Cindy.

Cindy shook her head. “Not really.”

Olivia took a deep breath. “You’re not here to shop.”

Cindy’s smile was real enough, but her eyes were bluntly honest. “No. I’m not.”

Olivia forced herself to stay still, not to fidget or shove her hands in her pockets and give away her nerves.

Kyle cooed again, trying to get her attention. She smiled at him and he flashed her a toothless grin that had so much charm in it she couldn’t help but melt.

“I know,” Cindy said. “He’s already a total lady-killer.”

“It’s not his fault, it runs in his family.” Olivia picked a teddy bear from a bin of stuffed animals and held it out to Kyle.

His eyes went wide and he snatched the bear, clutching it to his chest as he bounced up and down in Cindy’s arms.

“Treat it nice,” Cindy told him, and looked at Olivia. “I know who you are.”

Olivia’s heart skipped a beat. “Do you?”

“I watched every episode of
Not Again, Hailey!
fifteen times. I could recite the entire boxed set. I know it’s you.”

Olivia inhaled a deep breath and confessed to nothing.

Kyle waved the teddy bear at Olivia and yelled some adorable baby gibberish that she figured meant “thank you.”

“Look, I’m sure you’ve got your reasons for keeping this a secret,” Cindy said, patting Kyle on the back. “And you know what? I don’t blame you. I wouldn’t want to be associated with your crazy past, either.”

Now Olivia’s heart outright sank into her boots, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Her wild and crazy days had been well documented. People loved to watch child star meltdowns.

YouTube was the bane of her existence.

But Cindy wasn’t done. “Word to the wise,” she said. “My brother’s a very honest sort of guy. To the core.” She paused and gave Olivia a long look. “And he expects the same out of the people he lets in. Trust me, I know firsthand how difficult it can be to live up to his expectations.”

“I know you mean well,” Olivia said as gently as she could with panic rolling like a greasy wave in her gut. “But your brother and I aren’t—”

“Don’t,” Cindy said. “Please don’t even try to tell me you don’t have feelings for him. I saw you watching him from the dance floor when he was making drinks behind the bar, like he was the puppy you always wanted for Christmas but never got.”

True story.

Cindy pulled out her wallet. “How much for the teddy bear?”

Kyle had set the bear on his mom’s shoulder, and then his head on the bear, his gorgeous baby-blue eyes drooping.

“It’s a gift,” Olivia said softly.

“That’s very sweet, thank you.” Cindy moved to the door, gave Olivia one last knowing look, and left.

Olivia stood still a long moment, then let out a shaky breath. Sweet baby Jesus, she was in over her head and going down for the count.

Cindy was right, of course. She had to tell Cole the truth.

That night Cole boarded the boat, but not for work. Tanner and Sam were right behind him, each of them holding a bottle of their poison of choice.

None of them prepared the boat to leave the harbor.

Tonight it wouldn’t be safe sailing. Not because of the weather—it was actually a hauntingly beautiful night. Crisp sky so clear that the stars looked like scattered diamonds on black velvet. No wind. Barely a swell on the water.

The three of them sat on deck, sprawling in various positions. Tanner knees up, leaning back against the bolster. Sam on the bow.

Cole at the helm.

In silence, they lifted their bottles to each other.

“To Gil,” Cole said.

“To Gil,” Sam said.

“To Gil,” Tanner said.

Then they each took a long pull, the first of many. Paused to swallow.

And then repeat.

And…repeat again.

It was their second annual Get Shit-Faced in Gil’s Memory drunk fest.

They didn’t speak at all through the next few shots, which left too much time to think. There was a dull ache in Cole’s chest. For Gil.

For his dad.

For Cara, who’d decided that her cheating husband needed to get the hell out instead of her leaving, and who’d needed Cole to help enforce her decision last night.

Which meant he’d never gotten back to Olivia’s…

He drank some more and enjoyed the burn down his esophagus. It matched the one in his gut.

And heart. “Gil would’ve liked it here,” he said. “Lucky Harbor.”

Sam blew out a breath. “He would’ve liked anywhere that wasn’t on a rig.”

Tanner’s mouth quirked in a barely there smile. “He did hate the rigs.”

And he’d never gotten to leave them…

They all drank again. Pleasantly numb, Cole leaned back and studied the starry night. “Remember that time he set all the toilets to blow at two in the morning?”

Both Sam and Tanner laughed. This was the tradition.

Remembering.

Never forgetting.

“You went apeshit,” Tanner said to Sam.

“Yeah, because two guys were on the pot at the time. Luckily no real injuries, but it took me days to sort that shit out. Literally.”

“He always loved a good prank,” Tanner said fondly. “Remember when he put laxative in the meatloaf?” He pointed his bottle at Cole. “You’re the one who went apeshit.”

“Because it was my guys who ate three servings and couldn’t work for two days. The shit really hit the fan then.”

They all laughed and drank again.

“How about when he left us fake messages from our girlfriends, moms, and sisters,” Sam said, “saying that they knew what we were up to in our free time.”

“Now
that
was fun,” Tanner said. “Getting hounded by the moms.”

“Yeah,” Cole said. “Mine said my mom had heard that I was getting serious with Susan, that she knew I’d been online ring shopping and wanted to give me diamond-buying advice.” He took another long swig. In hindsight, when the shit had once again hit the fan and he’d had time to think, it’d bothered the hell out of him.

Because he had been getting serious about Susan. So serious that he’d asked her to marry him. After a lifetime of not particularly seeing himself with kids and a family, something deep inside had shifted, and he’d changed his mind. He’d wanted his own unit to belong to. To belong to him.

But Susan had said no, that she wasn’t ready for that.

What she hadn’t said was that she’d fallen in love with Gil. Nope, she’d saved that little tidbit until the day of Gil’s funeral.

Cole didn’t register the long, heavy silence around him until Tanner sighed and set down his bottle. “He shouldn’t have pulled that prank on you,” he said to Cole. “He thought he was being funny, but he regretted it, big time.”

Cole stared at Tanner, a sudden sinking in his gut. “Why would he regret it?”

Tanner got a sort of oh-shit-I-fucked-up look on his face and said nothing, which did not help Cole’s gut.

Or his brain, as the organ helpfully rushed to come up with a few explanations, not a single one of which he liked. Cole set down his bottle as well. “Susan and I had talked about marriage, so he was right there.” He stilled as his brain finally settled on what was bugging him. He hadn’t told anyone he’d asked Susan to marry him, but clearly she had. Shit. Fuck. “Goddamn. Susan told Gil.”

Sam and Tanner exchanged a look that Cole had no problem interpreting. They knew something. And yeah, he was halfway crocked, maybe more than half, but he could still think.

At least a little bit. “What?” he demanded.

Tanner picked his bottle back up and tipped it to his lips.

Sam did the same.

“
What?
” Cole said again. Even though he knew. Yeah, he knew, and it wasn’t sitting well. In fact, he was thinking about throwing up.

“Nothing, man,” Tanner said.

“Let it go,” Sam said.

Cole nodded. But then he shook his head because he wasn’t much good at letting anything go, and now didn’t seem like the time to start. Hell no. Plus the room was spinning just a little bit.

Or a lot.

As he looked around the interior of the boat he loved nearly as much as he did Sam and Tanner, the effects of the alcohol made it seem as if they were on the high seas. Except maybe it was him moving. “Susan told Gil, and he told you two.”

Another look passed between his supposed best friends. He stood up and pointed at Sam and Tanner. “Someone better fucking start talking.”

“Let it go,” Sam repeated, standing up too.

Cole narrowed his eyes and got up in Sam’s space. “And what exactly am I letting go?”

Sam’s jaw bunched. “You’re pissed. I get that. But you want to back the fuck up.”

“No, I don’t.”

Tanner sighed and stood up, too, pushing his way between them. “We’re fucking up the celebration of Gil’s life.”

Staring at the two guys he’d loved for so long he couldn’t remember being without them, Cole shook his head. “I can’t believe it. Susan told Gil she’d turned me down.” He shook his head again. “But I’m getting the feeling you both already knew that, too. Yeah?”

Sam’s gaze never left Cole’s.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “I’m right.” He stared at them both. “Jesus.” He shoved his fingers into his hair. “For two years I’ve sucked that bullshit down like a serving of cut glass. Thought that was the worst of it. Guess I was wrong there, huh? You two knowing all along and not telling me? That’s worse by far.”

Tanner had the good grace to grimace.

“How long have you known?” Sam asked Cole.

“I found out at the funeral. When she fell to a thousand pieces in my arms over the real love of her life being dead,” Cole said. “I think the real question here is, how long have
you
known?”

The looks on their faces had him closing his eyes and dropping his head into his hands. “Longer than me,” he muttered. “Doesn’t matter how or when, you’ve known longer than me.” He lifted his head again. “And you kept it from me. Jesus, was there some sort of memo on how to fuck me over?” He grabbed his bottle. “I need another drink. I need…”
To throw up
. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”

Sam reached for him but he shoved free and also nearly planted his fist in Sam’s face. When both friends started to follow him, Cole pointed at them. “Don’t.”

Sam opened his mouth.

“Don’t talk, either. Don’t…“ He turned away. “Don’t
anything
.”

“Come on, man,” Tanner said. “Don’t leave. Not like this. It’s not what you think—”

“It’s exactly what I think,” he said, and left. He was only halfway up the dock when Tanner’s first text hit.

Delete.

He was at the warehouse when Sam’s text arrived.

Cole stopped in the lot, momentarily stymied. Definitely too toasted to drive. He could hitch a ride home—if he’d remembered to grab his house keys from the boat.

Since going back wasn’t an option, he hit the beach and started walking. His heart was pounding and so was his head.

Old memories.

Old hurts.

We thought you were over her
.

He was. He’d also thought he was past the fact that his woman and his best friend had sneaked around behind his back.

He’d really thought that. After all, Gil was dead, Susan had moved on. There was no reason to harbor the resentment and bad blood.

So he hadn’t.

He’d been a grown-up and done as Susan had. He’d moved on. And in the brilliance of twenty-twenty hindsight, he’d come to realize that he and Susan wouldn’t have made a good pair anyway.

He hadn’t been the one for her.

He’d taken that unforeseen blow to his heart and soul, to his ability to love and trust in a woman, blah blah. And he’d gone on, choosing to believe that there was someone else out there for him, someone better suited.

Not that he’d gone looking. No, he hadn’t been all that eager to possibly get screwed up again. He’d figured if it was meant to be, it would happen. Someone would walk into his life, past his walls, and right into his heart.

Olivia.

Her face came into his head. Her dark, deep eyes always held just a little bit of pain, no matter whether she was laughing or working or just standing still.

Always.

A kindred spirit, she’d walked right past his barriers. Not willingly. No, she was just as reluctant as he was to let herself feel.

And somehow that made her even more trustworthy.

His phone buzzed again, a call this time. From Sam, one of the two people he’d trusted to have his back no matter what.

And he, like Tanner, had known about Susan and Gil, and hadn’t told him.

What if Cole had never found out? What if he and Susan had stayed together?

Would Sam and Tanner have let Cole continue to love someone who didn’t, couldn’t, love him back?
Ignore
.

Again his cell buzzed.

Tanner this time.

Cole resisted the urge to chuck his phone into the churning water and turned it off instead. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Hunching his shoulders against the chill, he kept walking.

When he got to the end of the harbor, the rocky terrain cut him off. He could go for a hike straight up the rock bluffs, or he could go for a swim in the choppy water.

Or he could head back.

It took him a good long time to decide, but he was pissed off, not suicidal. So he headed back. All too quickly he was staring up at the dock. At their boat. At the two guys sitting at the top of the stairs from the beach to the dock waiting for him.

Suddenly Cole was glad it was so damn cold. He hoped they’d frozen their balls off. Taking every other stair, he walked past them without a word.