Unbelievable (19 page)

“Fine. I promise,” Booker finally relented.

“Good, here she comes. Ask her to dance, and remember, no prying.”

“I promised, didn’t I? And don’t I always keep my promises?” Booker replied, and then added, “Bet ya five bucks she’ll say no to the dancing.” Cole tried not to smile.

Booker jumped up to hold out Tess’s chair as she sat down. When the next song started he leaned over to her. “I do believe they’re playing our song.” Overhead the words
Stacy’s Mom’s Got it Going On
blasted through the speakers
.
Cole looked away, probably to keep Tess from seeing him laugh.

“Oh, I don’t dance, sorry,” Tess said, just as Booker predicted.

I slipped my hand around Cole’s arm, hoping he’d get the hint and ask me. I thought about asking him, but sometimes a girl needs to feel wanted. Only he didn’t ask.

“Hello, everyone.” Seth and Maggie approached our table, still glowing. I’d seen them making their way around the room, stopping at all the tables, greeting their guests.

“Why aren’t you out there dancing, Book?” Maggie pressed.

“Maybe later,” he said, probably not wanting to embarrass his date.

“What about you, Cole? You love to salsa, and I’ve told Lilah how good you are,” Maggie said. “I know for a fact they’ve play two Marc Anthony songs so far.”

“I’ve been giving him hints, but he’s not asked me,” I said with an exaggerated sigh. Booker and Seth laughed.

“Cole, she’s our guest. You should ask her,” Seth insisted.

“Fine. The next time they play salsa I will,” he said, frowning.

“Good. Come on, wife,” Seth said, taking his wife’s hand. “We have a few more tables to visit.” Seth led Maggie over to the next table.

“If you don’t want to dance with me, you don’t have to,” I said as Cole reached for his water glass.

“I want to, Lilah, but you have to promise to behave,” he said, taking a sip.

“So what you’re saying is that while we are dancing, I can’t do anything like this?” I asked, giving his knee a squeeze.

Unfortunately, my poor timing caused Cole to knock over his and my water glasses, shattering them and flooding the table.
Oh, my dear, adorable Opie
.

Chapter
15

“With your luck, it’s a wonder you’ve never cut your hand off in the ER .” Booker reached over and helped Cole pick up broken shards of glass.

“He’s a genius in the ER,” I defended Cole, rather strongly.

“You’re right, Lilah. Cole’s a great doctor. I didn’t mean that as an insult. My apologies to you and the fine doctor.” He eyed me for a moment before turning to Cole. “You have quite a defender here. I definitely wouldn’t let her slip away.”

Several things happened at once. Cole sliced his finger open on the broken glass. It wasn’t deep, but he bled pretty good nevertheless. Ricky Martin’s
Livin’ la Vida Loca
filled the room as several couples jumped up and raced to the dance floor. And Tess fainted. Booker caught her before she hit the floor.

Cole wrapped
a white linen napkin around the oozing wound and rushed to Tess’ side. He rubbed her wrist as Booker wiped a wet napkin across her brow.

“What happened?” she asked, opening her eyes several moments later. Her face drained of color as she looked up at everyone.

“I believe you fainted,” Booker said.

“I’m so sorry. Blood and I don’t do so well together.” She jumped out of Booker’s arms and smoothed her dress and hair back into place.

“I’d better get going. Thank you, Booker, for a lovely time. I’ll see you at work on Monday, Cole.” She turned to leave, but Booker stopped her.

“Hold on, Tess. Give yourself a few minutes to recover, and then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m fine, Booker. Really. There’s no need. I’ll catch a cab.”

Natalie,
the nurse from the hospital, and her husband Jeremy walked over with an adorable baby as Booker continued to press Tess into letting him take her home.

“Hi, Tess, are you okay?” Natalie asked. “I saw you faint. Is there anything I can do to help?

“I’m so embarrassed. You know me and blood.” Tess’ eyes darted around the room as she spoke. Why did she keep doing that?

“Jeremy and I are on our way home. Little Gabe has had enough wedding. Do you need a ride?” The
sleepy baby dropped his head to his dad’s shoulder and shut his eyes.

“Yes, thank you.”

Booker stammered for a minute. “Fine, I’ll walk you out,” he said, resigned. “Doc, I’ll grab my first aid kit while I’m out and see if we can keep you from bleeding to death.”

“Cole,” I turned to him, guilt ridden. “I’m so sorry. I feel simply terrible.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“If I hadn’t been flirting with you, it wouldn’t have happened,” I said, gathering the last broken piece
of glass and set it in a napkin.

“You can’t blame yourself for my clumsiness.” We blotted up the water as a couple of waiters came over and replaced the tablecloth and napkins.

Booker returned as they finished. “Here ya go.” Booker handed him a small, battered gray box with a red cross on it. “I suggest you take it into the bathroom.”

“Agreed. I’ll be right back.” Cole picked up the box and trotted off.

Booker laughed, pointing to my legs. “I’m guessing you like salsa music.”

I looked down as they bounced to the beat. “Love it,” I confessed.

“Come on.” Booker held out his hand and I took it. “It’s been a few years, so I apologize if I’m a little rusty.” He pulled me around and spun me in a quick, tight circle.

We twisted and circled the floor like pros. A few couples around us stopped to watch. My heart pounded to the music as it filled me. Memories of dancing in the kitchen with my mother flooded my head, memories of a happy time, a time when I felt free, a time when my life was easy and uncomplicated. More than once I found myself laughing out loud, much to Booker’s amusement.

“You’re good,” he said, after the dance.

“Thanks. So are you.” I looked over his shoulder. Cole stood on the side
, watching us. The music started up again, this time a slow song. I slipped my arms around Booker’s neck, hoping jealousy would motivate Cole.

Booker laughed. “You’re quite formidable. Cole’s not going to fall for this, you know that, right?”

“You don’t think so?” I eyed Cole. He didn’t look happy.

Booker shrugged. “He knows I’d never make a move on someone he liked.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not so sure Opie likes me, not in the romantic sense anyway,” I complained as Booker danced me around. He held me conservatively, dashing any hope of sparking a little jealousy in Cole.

“Opie?” He laughed. “That’s perfect. I like it. I may just have to borrow it.”

The music came to a close. Booker spun me around one last time before leading us back to the table.

“Hey, Opie. How’s the hand?” Booker asked.
Three bandages were wrapped around his index finger, with a small cotton ball wedged under each.

“Fine,” Cole said, his eyes fixed on me.

“She wanted to dance. I hope you don’t mind.” Booker settled at the table.

Before I could even pull out my chair, Cole took my hand. “I want to dance also. Shall we?”

The music, salsa again, began with a slow, sexy beat. Cole pulled me much closer than Booker and his brotherly hold. We rocked back and forth, staring into each other’s eyes. When the music caught fire; so did Cole.

Booker wasn’t kidding when he said Cole was better. The music invaded every inch of me as we laced our way across the dance floor. A floor we owned. Where a few couples stood and watched as Booker and I danced, the entire reception center watched Cole and
me.

How can this complete klutz dance like this?

The music ended a
nd we were applauded. I panted, trying to catch my breath as we walked over to the punch bowl. Cole took a small glass cup from the table and held it under a stream of punch shooting out from a cherub’s arrow. He handed me the glass, filling another for himself.

“How’s that possible
?” I asked after my breath slowed. “You practically cut your fingers off on a daily basis, you fall constantly, yet you dance like Derek Hough.”

“Who?”

“You know, the guy from
Dancing with the
…never mind. Cole, that was amazing.”

“Thank you,” he said. He took my hand again and led me back out on the floor. This time a slow
, romantic ballad filled the air.

I stared up into his beautiful blue eyes as we slowly circled the floor. I snuggled in closer, outlining his jaw with my finger, and sneaking it up into his silky blond hair, all in hopes of getting an Opie kiss. I felt his frame tighten as I brought my finger down, tracing his lower lip.

Suddenly we were outside on a deserted patio. Cole backed me up to a brick wall and stood inches from me.

“This has to stop.” He planted his hands on the brick wall on either side of my head. “I can’t keep fighting you off, Lilah. I mean it. No more!”

“Your lips say no-no, but your body language is screaming something much different.” I pointed out. “Look how close you’re standing to me. If you wanted to, you could very easily kiss me right now.”

Cole looked at his hands and pulled them from the wall as if he’d gotten burned. He spun away and walked several steps before turning back.

“Lilah,” exasperation filled his voice. “You’re nineteen years old. I’m thirty.” He shoved his hand through his hair. “I want a family, children, a wife. I want what Maggie and Seth have. Living with them the past several months has opened my eyes to what I’ve been missing. I allowed myself to get so wrapped up in my career I forgot to live my life.

“You and I are in in diffe
rent places in our lives, Lilah,” he continued. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself of what he said. “You’re young and carefree, as you should be. But I, well, I want to settle down. I don’t want a casual relationship with a nineteen-year-old girl.”

The words he spoke tore at my heart. All the things he wanted I wanted, too. Things I’d been robbed of. As he stood there telling me we had no future together, I realized just how much I didn’t want to hear that from him. I didn’t want to be just his friend. I wanted more, much more.

“You’re telling me,” I said slowly, “that the only reason you won’t date me is because of my age?”

I watched him struggled with his feelings. The anguish in his tight features. The restless rubbing of the back of his neck. The corded muscles in his arm. All because of me. Because of my selfish ploy to get him into a relationship so I could use him and help my father get revenge.

I was done. I couldn’t do it anymore. I could not…I
would not
help my father. He was dead wrong about these people. They were good, honest people. I’d have to try and convince him of that when he came back into the country, though in my heart I didn’t hold out much hope. My father wrote the book on stubborn. And if he wouldn’t listen to me . . . I didn’t know what I was going to do.

I took a deep breath. “Cole, what if I told you that I’m not really nineteen?”

His jaw dropped and his face blanched. I certainly didn’t expect that reaction. “Lilah, please, please tell me you’re at least eighteen,” he partially begged.

I should’ve expected that reaction from Opie. I chuckled. I tried not to, but I just couldn’t help myself.

“I meant I’m older than nineteen, not younger,” I said through a wide grin.

He took a step toward me and stopped. “So how old are you?” Trepidation filled his voice.

I took a deep breath, hoping my real age was enough for this statistics loving man. If he still turned me away, I didn’t know what I’d do, because I was very much in love with Cole Colter.

“Twenty-four,” I said slowly. His eyes tightened. “I’ll be twenty-five next month.”

Instantly, I was tangled up in his arms, all prepared for my Opie kiss.