Page 20 of Wrecked
He glanced around the backyard, and his gut tightened. For some reason, when he’d envisioned his future with Piper, a future she had no idea he’d wanted with her, he’d seen them here, in this cottage together.
His gaze moved over her, and he gritted his teeth. He’d imagined hot nights, holding her in his arms, kissing her whenever he damn well wanted to. Of one day watching her belly grow round with his baby inside her. A swing set back here for their kids.
Shit. He needed to stop this.
But he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She tempted him, pushed him beyond all reason. She had on a green sundress, and while she’d slept it had twisted around her waist and hips, lifting high enough that he could see her orange lace panties. Just a tiny glimpse, but enough he got an unobscured view of how they hugged her, the outline of her sexy little slit. Even through the fabric he could tell she was completely smooth there.
His mouth went bone dry.
The urge to crouch down and lift her dress higher to get a better look was almost too hard to resist. He ate her up with his eyes—greedily, hungrily, like a starving man. That’s when he spotted something on her upper thigh, vibrant red and green ink, just a sliver of it showing.
Piper had a tattoo.
Something about that twisted him damn near inside out, pushed him past reason, and the next thing he knew, he was grazing her silky smooth skin with the tip of his finger, tracing what he realized was the base of some kind of flower.
Piper moaned, and he pulled his hand back, jarred from his lust fog, and shot to his feet.
Her head rolled toward him, and a second later she scrambled to a sitting position, shoving her shades to the top of her head. She blinked up at him several times. “Cole?”
Shit, he’d always wondered what she’d look like when she woke first thing in the morning, all sleep rumpled and warm, all soft and pliant.
Lock it down.
“Your brother’s been trying to call you.”
She opened her mouth to say something, but he turned away and got the hell out of there—before he did something he could never take back.
* * *
Wednesday - 8:30 p.m.
Dropping his gym bag, Cole slid his key in the door. But the sound of a car door closing had him turning around and looking out at the street below. A guy climbed out of his car and, straightening his tie, headed toward the cottage. Cole watched him cup a hand around his mouth and discretely sniff. Breath check. Which could only mean one thing. He was here to take Piper out.
A date.
Jogging up the cottage steps, the guy knocked on the door. Cole turned fully, unable to look away. The door opened a minute later, and Piper stepped out, a smile beaming from her beautiful face. Her dress was blue and stopped just above the knees. It hugged her curves to perfection, and he didn’t need to be standing in front of her to know her eyes would glow against the color. He could see the guy’s face redden all the way from across the lot. He could also see the way the fucker’s trousers tented at the front.
With a growl, he took the first step, heading back down—then slammed on the brakes.
Gripping the railing, he made himself stay where he was. Hung the fuck on so he didn’t go down there and make a complete asshole of himself.
What the hell did he think he was doing? He had no right to go over there. What would he even say?
He watched as the other man placed a hand at the small of Piper’s back. Every muscle in Cole’s body turned to stone as he led her to his car.
Before Piper climbed in, she looked his way. When she spotted him standing there, her smiled widened. She pointed at her date’s back as the guy walked around to his side of the car, then placing a hand over her heart, did a silly, sexy little jiggle, an I’m-so-excited-for-my-date happy dance.
Excited wasn’t what he was feeling in that moment. And he sure as fuck didn’t feel like dancing.
A minute later, they were gone.
Cole forced himself to go inside. He decided if the guy touched her when he dropped her off later, he’d be living the rest of his life without hands.
Chapter Seven
Trapped.
The smell of gasoline. Toxic fumes. Sirens wailing in the distance. Screams of people he couldn’t see.
