Page 44 of Axe-identally Married
“Doubtful. She’s not super involved in my life.” The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, made my heart clench.
I inhaled deeply, then slowly let it out. “Radical honesty?”
He paused his knitting and gave me his full attention. “Sure.”
“Her fucking loss. You deserve better.”
He exhaled heavily. “Wow, that was some powerful honesty.”
“I’m serious. If it’s any consolation, you can share my parents. They will happily smother you with love.”
He said nothing, but his expression was doubtful.
It hurt to see it, how alone he seemed to feel, and every single cell in my body was screaming at me to help him.
“How about I get my Kindle—I’m behind on this book Magnolia has been yelling at me to read; something about a school where people learn to ride dragons—and I’ll read while you knit?”
He nodded silently, so I jumped up, put the kettle on, and dashed into my room to get my Kindle.
We settled on the couch, sipping tea and quietly doing our own thing for a while. The couch was large, but so was Cole. He took up so much space that we were always sort of touching.
And I loved it. The comfort of his proximity helped push aside all the bullshit of the day.
Eventually, I leaned into him, my body sagging against his.
As I read, I soaked up his warmth and let his strength anchor me.
He knit, a peacefulness settling over my little cabin. Our little cabin—what was mine was now his, after all.
As my eyes drooped, I knew I’d be paying for staying up too late if I didn’t get to sleep.
“I need to go to bed.” I stood and stretched wide.
As I turned, ready to head down the hall, he caught my hand, garnering my attention.
Even sitting, he was almost at my eye level. Slowly, he turned my wrist. Then he angled closer and gently pressed his lips to my pulse point.
I couldn’t breathe; I couldn’t speak. That simple gesture had my entire body screaming with pent-up desire.
He looked up at me, his lips inches from my skin, his dark eyes molten.
The look sent a shiver down my spine.
People tended to underestimate Cole, write him off as unserious or a clown.
But he possessed this intensity, this focus. And the closer we got, the more I saw of it.
My skin was on fire where his rough fingers touched me, and my insides were heating up too. I swore a primal need flashed in his eyes, causing my breath to hitch as I struggled to understand the sensations pummeling me from such minimal contact.
As quickly as desire hit, panic replaced it. Why was he holding my hand and looking at me like that? This was wrong. But was it? A wrist kiss was hardly a display of desire. Though with the way he watched me, it certainly felt like it was. The feel of his lips on my skin was not something I’d ever forget. Never mind the fire in his eyes.
My heart pounded against my breastbone, tapping out a rhythm that told me to leave. I needed space. Yes. Space. Far way. Maybe the next county. Maybe Canada? The border wasn’t that far. And my passport was here somewhere.
With a grunt, he dropped my hand, and at the loss of the contact, I took a step back. God, I was too close to him. It was dangerous, this hot, twitchy sensation coursing through me, and if I didn’t get out of here, I worried I’d say the wrong thing. Room. I needed to get to my room.
I took another step back, snatching the empty mugs and my Kindle off the table.
“You didn’t tell me what you’re making,” I said, gesturing to the pile of emerald-green yarn in his lap, doing my best to keep my voice from quivering. I was feeling things. Confusing things. I needed to extract myself immediately.
