Page 41 of Summer Weddings
“Wear something fancy. I’m taking you to a four-star restaurant.”
“Something fancy?” Mentally she reviewed the contents of her closet, which was rather lacking in anything fancy.
“I’m not about to be outclassed by Frank,” Cole said with a laugh. “I’m going to wine and dine you and turn your head with sweet nothings.”
He didn’t need to do any of those things to turn her head. She was already dangerously close to being in love with him, so close that she’d blurted it out to a woman she’d known for a total of twelve minutes.
Abruptly switching her attention to the bag of groceries,Robin set several packages on the counter. When Cole’s hands clasped her shoulders, her eyes drifted shut. “It isn’t necessary,” she whispered.
Cole turned her around to face him. “What isn’t?”
“The dinner, the wine, the…sweet nothings.”
Their eyes held. As if choreographed, they moved into each other’s arms. With a groan that came from deep in his throat, Cole kissed her. His hands tangled in the auburn thickness of her hair. His lips settled on hers with fierce protectiveness.
Robin curled her arms tightly around his neck as her own world started to dip and spin and whirl. She was standing on tiptoe, her heart in her throat, when she heard the front door open.
Moaning, she dragged her mouth from Cole’s and broke away just as her son strolled into the kitchen.
Jeff stopped, his brow furrowed, when he saw the two of them in what surely looked like suspicious circumstances.
“Hi, Mom. Hi, Cole.” He went casually to the refrigerator and yanked open the door. “Anything decent to drink around this place?”
“Water?” Robin suggested.
Jeff rolled his eyes. “Funny, Mom.”
“There are a few more sacks of groceries in the car. Would you get them for me?” He threw her a disgruntled look, until Robin added, “You’ll find a six-pack of soda in there.”
“Okay.” He raced out of the house and returned a minute later, carrying one sack and sorting through its contents as he walked into the kitchen.
“I’ll help you,” Cole said, placing his hand on Jeff’s shoulder. He glanced at Robin and his eyes told her they’d continue their discussion at a more opportune moment.
Robin started emptying the sacks, hardly paying attention as Jeff and Cole brought in the last couple of bags. Cole told her he’d pick her up at six, then left.
“Can I play with Blackie for a while?” Jeff asked her, a can of cold soda clenched in his hand.
“Sure,” Robin answered, grateful to have a few minutes alone.
Robin cleared the counters and made Jeff a sandwich for his lunch. He must’ve become involved in his game with Cole’s dog because he didn’t rush in announcing he was hungry.
She went outside to stand on her small front porch and smiled as she watched Jeff and Blackie. Her son really had a way with animals—like his father. Every time Robin saw him play with Cole’s Labrador, she marveled at how attuned they were to each other.
She smiled when she realized Cole was outside, too; he’d just finished watering his lawn.
“Jeff, I made a sandwich for you,” she called.
“In a minute. Hey, Mom, watch,” he yelled as he tossed a ball across the lawn. Blackie chased after it, skidding to a stop as he caught the bright red ball.
“Come on, Blackie,” Jeff urged. “Throw me the ball.”
“He can’t do that,” Robin said in astonishment.
“Sure, he can. Watch.”
And just as Jeff had claimed, Blackie leapt into the air, tossed his head and sent the ball shooting into the street.
“I’ll get it,” Jeff hollered.
