The Wishing Season (26 page)
Cole got in the passenger side of PJ’s car. After being hauled away in front of half the town yesterday, he’d had the pleasure of a full night in jail while he waited for the bank to open.
He’d been searched, charged, printed, and locked in a cell. He needed a shower and a shave, but what he really wanted was his dignity back.
He could feel PJ’s eyes on him as she started the car, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet her gaze.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“I’m so sorry this happened.”
“You have nothing to be sorry about.”
She pulled from the lot and turned onto the street. “I hated leaving you there all night. The kids were worried about you.”
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“Zac remembered to take the garbage out last night, and they were all up and out the door on time this morning.”
“Good.”
The streets were already crowded for day two of the festival. They stopped in front of a busy crosswalk. It was hard to believe people were still eating funnel cakes and taking river-boat rides.
His disorderly conduct charges had probably made today’s
Gazette
. The other half of the town would soon know about his arrest. Worse yet, Mrs. Simmons would find out, since her nephew was the one cuffing him. No one would think him fit to run a home for young adults after this.
“Are you mad at me?” PJ asked in a tiny voice.
At the sight of her watery brown eyes, his heart softened. “Why would I be mad at you, Sunshine? You didn’t do a thing.”
“But Keaton—”
“Is responsible for his own actions. Just like I’m responsible for mine.”
And that’s why his bank account was completely wiped out for bail money. Why he’d plead guilty in front of a judge in a few weeks. He could only hope he’d escape with a fine.
“I’m going to talk to Keaton about dropping charges.”
His eyes snapped to hers. “No, you’re not.”
“You were only defending me, and now you’re in trouble. It’s not fair.”
It sure hadn’t felt fair when he was being stuffed into the back of the sheriff’s cruiser while a smirking Keaton looked on.
“Did he bother you any more last night? Is he gone?” That was all he’d thought about while tossing on the cot all night.
“He’s at a hotel in Scottsburg. After I take you home, I’m going to talk to him. I think I can get him to drop—”
“No, PJ. I don’t want you near him. And definitely not alone with him in some hotel room.”
“Well, I don’t want you having a record and doing jail time or paying a fine for defending me.”
“You’re not going there alone. I’d be happy to come along, but I’m pretty sure I’d end up right back in jail.”
She turned onto their road and traffic thinned out, allowing a quicker pace. “You don’t know Keaton. His dad is a lawyer. He has contacts. You don’t need a stiff fine or a criminal record. I’ll just call him.”
The thought of PJ even talking to the jerk again made his stomach tighten. He didn’t like the way the guy had grabbed
PJ, didn’t like the possessive way he’d stared her down or the creepy way he’d stalked toward her.
PJ pulled to the curb in front of the house and shut off the engine. When she reached for the handle, he took her wrist gently.
His eyes climbed her arm to the finger-sized bruises, and his jaw knotted. He wished he’d put his full weight behind the first punch. What else was the guy capable of?
“You need to get a restraining order.”
Something passed over her face, and then it was gone. “I think he might leave me alone now. I was pretty blunt with him last night after you left.”
And Cole remembered how blunt Keaton had been with PJ. “Don’t call him, don’t go see him.” He brushed his thumb across her pulse, glorying in the shiver that passed over her. “Promise me.”
Her eyes held his, the wavering clear on her features. Finally she exhaled, her lips turning up at the corners. “All right.”
His breath whooshed quietly from his body.
“Thank you for coming to my rescue,” she said.
“My pleasure.”
“I’m sorry about our date.”
He tipped a smile. “There’ll be plenty of others.”
“Promise?”
More than anything he wanted to put the past fourteen hours from his mind. Wanted to focus on his kids and PJ. Especially PJ.
He kissed the inside of her wrist and threaded his fingers through hers. “Promise.”
T
HE WEEK RUSHED PAST IN A FLURRY OF MEALS AND CLASSES
. Keaton hadn’t tried to contact her again, and PJ thought he’d finally gotten the message.
She and Cole found quiet moments on the porch or in the living room upstairs. Sometimes they played Ping-Pong with the kids, and one night they played basketball with Josh and Shaundra. PJ lived for their quiet talks and lingering kisses. It grew harder each evening to say good night.
They finally had their first date a week later. She wore the red dress Jade had bought her for Valentine’s Day with the heeled black boots. When Cole’s eyes swept over her, they flared appreciatively.
“I like you in a dress. I didn’t say so last time since you were obviously headed out on a date, but your legs were made to be shown. And those boots . . .”
PJ’s skin heated under his appraisal. “It wasn’t a date. I went out with my sisters.”
Cole gave a mirthless smile. “I fretted all night for nothing?”
“Pretty much.”
He took her hands, pulling her close, and put them behind her back the way he liked to do.
“Well, you’re all mine tonight,” he whispered into her ear. “And I’m going to enjoy every minute.”
He took her to an outdoor concert at Waterfront Park in Louisville. They had a picnic on the lawn and danced to slow country ballads. PJ wanted the night to go on forever. The look in his eyes as they moved, swaying to the music, mesmerized her. The tender way he held her made her feel cherished and protected.
She told him stories from her childhood and, when she managed to shut her mouth for ten seconds straight, Cole opened up about his foster family. He told her about Greg and Becky and Lizzy, who’d be joining their household in two weeks.
His love for Lizzy, for Josh and Zac and Shaundra, shone through in the warmth of his voice when he talked about them. Cole might be quiet, sometimes guarded, but when he opened his heart to someone, he threw it wide open and loved generously.
He held PJ’s hand on the ride home, and by the time he walked her to her bedroom door, it was well after midnight. The house was quiet, the kids were above in bed, and only the light from the foyer spilled into the short hallway.
She leaned against her closed door. His eyes scrolled over her face, and her heart did a slow roll. His lips had grazed her cheek as they’d danced. They’d skimmed her temple and glided along her neck, but he hadn’t kissed her all night, and she thought she might crawl right out of her skin if he didn’t do so and fast.
“Thank you for tonight,” she said. “I had a great time. I hope I didn’t talk too much. I talk when I’m nervous.”
“I hadn’t noticed.”
She gave him a look.
He set his hands at her waist. “Why were you nervous?”
She slid hers up his thick biceps, stopping at the collar of his button-up. “It was our first date.” She bit the inside of her lip. “And I kind of like you.” More than like, truth be told. No need to scare him off, though. She’d probably already said too much.
His eyes warmed. “I like you too. A lot.” He leaned forward, ever so slowly, and dropped a lingering kiss to her mouth.
A curl of warmth unfurled inside as he came back for seconds. They’d been dancing around this moment all night, but it had been worth the wait. If only she could suspend time, live here in the moment for an eternity or two. Forget the time that ticked away too quickly toward the June 1 deadline.
His hand found the small of her back as his body pressed hers.
His shoulders were solid and muscled under her palms. The hair at his nape was feather soft on her fingers. His lips were firm and pliant against hers. Heat pooled in her stomach. She didn’t want the kiss to end. That would mean their date was over and the night had ended.
A moment later he drew away, his eyes at half-mast. “Good night.”
“Night.”
“I’ll meet you in the backyard at nine?” They’d agreed to clean out the flower beds in the morning.
“I’ll be there.”
He kissed her forehead. “Sleep well.”
She was still trembling from the kiss after he disappeared from view. Sleep was a long way off.
By noon they’d raked away winter’s dead leaves and weeded the beds. Red and orange tulips sprouted proudly in clusters, their
heavy heads bowed. Daffodils proliferated throughout the landscaping, adding splashes of sunshine yellow.
The sun climbed over the rooftop, hitting their backs with an intensity uncommon so early in spring. PJ had long ago pulled her hair into a ponytail and removed the hoodie that covered her Girl Chefs Rule T-shirt.
Despite the hard work, she’d enjoyed her morning with Cole. He didn’t seem to mind her chatter as they worked. He often tugged her ponytail or brushed a streak of dirt from her cheek as he passed. She liked that he was always touching her. It made her feel connected. She didn’t even mind when he teased her about her singing or went over an area she’d already done.
She finished trimming the hedges while he went to pick up mulch. The landscaping was sorely in need of a fresh covering, and Seth was letting them have it at cost.
She finished the hedges, made a couple club sandwiches, and set one of the patio tables. She’d just sunk onto the front porch step with a glass of iced tea when Cole pulled up to the curb with a bed full of rich brown mulch.
He got out, lowered the tailgate, and tossed her a smile that curled her toes. “I see how it goes when I’m gone.”
“Hey, I made us lunch.”
“All is forgiven.” Abandoning the mulch, he joined her on the porch.
He practically inhaled the sandwiches and chips. She reheated apple dumplings left over from yesterday’s brunch, then they went back to work in the yard.
An hour later a bead of sweat trickled down her back. Her back ached, her arms burned, and since when was it eighty degrees in April?
“I’m starting to wish for winter again,” she said. “I’m about ready to call it a day.”
Cole lowered the full wheelbarrow to rest nearby. “Then you’d have a half-empty restaurant and be fretting over money.”
A retort was stolen from her lips when he whipped off his shirt. A sheen of sweat covered his muscled torso. His biceps bulged as he lifted the wheelbarrow and dumped the load.
Maybe another hour or two.
They worked in companionable silence, PJ stealing glances when he wasn’t looking. She caught sight of the scar on his shoulder as he turned toward her, and she remembered wondering about it months ago. About four inches long, it ran down the front of his shoulder toward his heart.
He dumped the last load under a nearby shrub and grabbed a rake to help her spread it.
“How’d you get the scar?” She nodded her chin toward his shoulder when they stopped for a water break.
Something flashed in his eyes, and she wondered if she shouldn’t have asked. She doubted it was from a fall from a tire swing or a best friend’s dare.
He lowered the water bottle and capped it. “The car accident—something flying loose. Never did find out what it was.”
She hadn’t realized he’d been in the car too. “The one that took your family?”
His jaw flexed. “Yeah.”
She’d thought maybe he’d been abused in foster care. This was almost worse. A constant reminder of the day he lost his family. The day he’d become the sole survivor at the tender age of twelve.
“How’d it happen?” she asked softly. “The accident . . .”
He picked up the rake and worked mulch around the base of a dogwood tree. “I don’t like talking about it.”
“Sometimes it helps.”
His muscles flexed as he pulled the rake. A drop of sweat ran down his temple.
She remembered how painful it had been when her brother had died. “I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”
His eyes bounced off hers. “I know you do.”
“It’s worse when it happens suddenly, I think. There’s no time for good-byes, no time to say, ‘Hey, I know I’m a pain in the butt sometimes, but I really love you.’ I hope Michael knew that.”
“I’m sure he did.”
“Was it like that for you?”
He reached for another pile, spreading. “Not exactly.”
“I can’t even imagine losing my whole family. It’s probably why you’re so strong. You’ve survived so much.”
“I’m no hero, PJ.”
“You are to me.”
He gave a wry laugh, shook his head.
“You don’t give yourself enough credit. What you’ve been through would’ve broken most people. And here you are, all these years later, not only thriving but helping others.”
His jaw flexed. “Stop.”
“It’s true. I had no idea how good I had it growing up until I met you. I see these kids you’re helping, what they’ve been through, and it makes me thankful. It makes me want to give back too. You inspire me.”
He stopped suddenly and impaled her with a look. “It was my
fault, all right? I don’t deserve your admiration. I don’t deserve anything.” He reached for another pile, spreading the mulch fast and furiously.
“What do you mean, your fault?”
He kept working, his eyes fixed on the ground, as he jabbed at the mulch. The rake caught on a root, and he yanked until it turned loose.
PJ set a hand on his sweat-slickened arm. “What happened?”
His arm flinched under her touch. He stopped, breathing heavily. His chest rose and fell rapidly. His eyes were pinned to the ground.
She longed to soothe away his pain. To bring peace to his tormented soul. “What is it, Cole? You can tell me anything.” She wondered if he’d ever talked about it with anyone or if he’d kept it bottled up inside all this time.
He swallowed. “Two weeks before the accident, I found out my dad was having an affair.” He stopped. His nostrils flared.
She squeezed his arm, waiting patiently for him to continue.