Chapter Seven
Dear Diary,
My senses came alive, the vibration exquisite…
Charleston, West Virginia. Finally, a day off. With his forearm over his eyes, he sighed. He hadn’t told her yet, and come to think of it, she should be up by now trying to beat him to the shower. She liked to hog his hot water. He didn’t intend to let the secret out; he’d give her anything. He held his wrist up enough to squint at his watch. Eleven a.m. The guys would be asleep for a while, since the poker game dragged on forever last night, which also included the drinking. He focused on the ceiling, on her bunk.
She has a tumor, what the hell?
He scrubbed the fog away from his head and slammed his arms down on the bed. What next? He rolled out of his bunk—okay, he crawled and groaned through the pounding hangover. The bathroom and lounge were empty.
He stood at her bunk with the curtain in his fingertips, and his lip bitten so hard between his teeth it’d leave a mark. Point taken, they don’t know each other. He eased back the curtain, not wanting to startle her and the image knocked him back a step. She lay in the fetal position, hands on her head and tears streaming down her face.
Scaring her no longer a concern, he yanked the curtain the rest of the way and placed his hand over hers. “Hey, baby?”
She opened her eyes part way. They were rimmed with a pain he couldn’t bear to see. He scanned her frail body; a pale, clammy shell replaced her usual beauty. Although, to him she still stole the show.
“Hey,” she whispered and closed her eyes.
“You don’t look well. Can I take you to the doctor?” He closed his eyes and swallowed hard before he focused on her again.
“No, no doctor. In my bag.” She pointed, so weak she struggled to raise her arm. “Pain pills, Gravol.”
He rushed for the pills, threw the contents of her bag everywhere, and handed them to her with a bottle of water.
She braced herself upright, only high enough to take the pills. “It will pass, always does. I am going to just stay in bed for the afternoon if it’s no trouble. I should be good to go this evening. Please don’t tell the guys.”
“Uh. Yeah. Sure.” He uncoiled from his concerned posture, trying to convince her tough men with ink like him, could handle anything. As he fixed her pillow, he imagined laying there with her, and his body was all the support she needed. But they weren’t there yet.
He kept his voice calm, experienced after many hangovers, present one included and kissed her forehead. “No problem, babe. We have the day off, and I’m sure the guys would like to do something a little more casual today. We’ll leave you alone, but I will come back to check on you later, okay? You have my number, call if you need anything.”
“I’ll be okay.”
She wiped the tears from her face, and rolled over. He hated to leave her, but what choice did he have? She wasn’t his.
****
She took a deep breath, opened her eyes, and sat up slow. No pain, no nausea, still alive but mortified. A smile relaxed her while she piled up the clothes Cole upended from her bag but faded when the pill bottles tapped together. She picked them up and stared at the labels. No refills. She wouldn’t need them. The guys would be back soon and she didn’t want the train wreck that was sure to be her current condition to cloud their fun. She threw the bottles back in her bag. Able to handle more noise, she switched on her iPod and stumbled when the music blared, Scandals.
That little…ugh.
Impressed to be catching onto the lyrics, she tried her best to sing along with him while she enjoyed the hot water.
Without wariness, she opened the door and strolled toward her bunk to get dressed. Whatever they’ve planned for tonight better involve fun. The gasps from behind gave her an instant chill, and no mirror was necessary to confirm that the color had drained from her skin. No headache to blame this time.
Eyes closed tight, she twirled around. The whistles of appreciation made it easier to open her eyes again. Drew, Zander, Brett, and Cole stood there gawking like teenage boys who’d stumbled across their first porn flick.
“I am sure you boys have seen a lot more than what’s revealed around this towel. Girls throw themselves at you all the time, prettier girls I’m sure.” She spun away, refastened the already snug towel but didn’t budge any further. One by one, they passed her to go to the back of the bus, although they lacked discretion.
Brett kissed her on the cheek. “You’re hot, Izzy.”
Zander smacked her on the ass and she jumped. “I’d do ya.”
“You’re giving me a hard-on, Isabelle.”
Drew’s words shocked her the most. Her skin tingled everywhere when he leaned in and kissed her neck. What surprised her most—she tilted her head toward him.
She froze and attempted to act as if the last few seconds never happened. Drew’s kiss lingered on her skin, so without delay, she rubbed it off. Only she was pretty sure she more like caressed it. Cole still lingered behind, and her heart beat so hard her body vibrated with it.
He didn’t say anything, just strode past her, and closed the door to the back room, causing the others to laugh and holler obscenities. She closed her legs a little tighter when he spun back to her with heat in his gaze. He stalked her with an expression she couldn’t read. She raised her hands to grip the towel above her breasts.
“Hands down.”
Her throat tightened at the command. Before she could process his intention, her lips parted, just enough to let out the breath she’d held. She lowered her arms, now covered with goose bumps, and complied with his dominance.
“How are you feeling?” He strolled toward her.
“I’m fine Cole, one-hundred-percent better,” she squeaked. “A-about Drew.”
He put his hands on her waist and guided her back. She twitched when her warm skin touched a cold surface of the slim amount of wall separating the rows of bunks. Before she could explain his mouth covered hers, possessed her with strength she couldn’t fight. She didn’t want to.
He lightened the kiss a little and teased her with his tongue. Her breath caught when he slanted his lower body into her. He was hard. What started strong morphed into a deep exploration. His tongue touched every part of her mouth, and she played the game just as well.
He tasted like a mint after a long swallow of beer. When she nipped his lip, he growled and repositioned his hand. He slid it into the slit of towel that hung open. His fingertips dug into her bare skin, and he roamed from her lips, down to her jaw, her neck, that sensitive spot just below the ear. He massaged his hand to the base of her bare butt and squeezed, molded their bodies together to support her weakened knees.
Her body tingled. She fancied the idea of wrapping her leg around him and grinding against his shaft for release.
“Did you like it when Drew kissed you here?” His lips touched where Drew’s were not long ago.
“Cole,” she panted. “A-about that.” Her body trembled when his right hand drifted from her ass to her front, and brushed the tender skin inside her thigh. He still didn’t touch her where she needed to be touched, dammit.
“I want to get to know you, every inch.”
She shivered as he traced lines on her neck with his tongue. The ability to form words became so difficult. “I need to explain.”
She pictured his cocky smile.
“No you don’t. He gave me the finger behind your back, forced me to make a decision. It’s what we do.”
“You have to back off a little, and let me focus.” She leaned back, just enough to see his wicked grin. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, still down as he’d directed, but also distracted from slapping him. “Since I can’t seem to say no to you, yes, I want everything you have to offer. We need to keep clear heads though, that’s my only rule. No attachments. I can’t stand the idea of another person left behind to mourn.”
Setting the boundaries in place interrupted the eagerness to bond that brewed in his eyes. Instead, he withdrew his hand from under the towel and hugged her tight, resting his chin on her head. “I told the guys the list is real, no details. I want to do this for you, we all do. We were in an arena full of bikini-clad women sprawled out on hot rods today, yet the topic of conversation always reverted back to you. I didn’t sleep well last night ’cause maybe I’d asked too much of them, but Drew is a jackass sometimes and forces me to follow my dreams. Right now, that’s you.”
She leaned her forehead into his chest. How could she be mad at that? They offered so much, and they didn’t even know her.
“I understand why you told them. It’s okay. We’re okay.”
He put distance between them and straightened her towel with a satisfied grin. Cold air hit her, created a need for his warm hands to touch her again. Brand her.
“Good. Now get dressed, casual. We start tonight.” He whistled while he strolled to the back of the bus with his hands in his pockets. “And grab some food out of the fridge. Something tells me you’re going to need to tolerate liquid courage tonight.”
A beep signaled a voicemail on her phone.
When did the damn thing ring?
She rubbed her face, to clear some of the fog Cole created, and dug for her phone. Without checking who the message was from, since privacy only lasted minutes on the bus, she played it.
“Hello Isabelle, this is Dr. Peterson. I’m just inquiring about how you are feeling, and if you’re ready to book your surgery? I don’t want to nag, but it really should be done soon. Please call me.”
Before he could finish repeating his private phone number, she hit the end button and stuffed the phone back under her pillow.
****
“Where are we going? This is so not fair. I don’t like surprises, guys.”
They laughed. Many experiments took place on the bus before they were confident she couldn’t see through her blindfold. She sat still, calmed her breathing, and listened for clues; certain Cole sat to her left, a close left. The dead giveaway, his leg bounced hard enough to cause her body to vibrate. It was cute, though not something she would say out loud—okay, well maybe just not in front of his friends.
She tapped her fingers on the seat. He controlled her, and although she didn’t know how to respond without the possibility of embarrassment, she liked it. Each time she managed to calm her breathing, he massaged her hand with his and excited her once again. Without sight, she could interpret the contact to be more erotic than he might’ve intended. Maybe that was his plan?
She didn’t need to see his face to note his resistance to flipping her palm over and lacing their fingers. If he conceded to his desire, she’d like it as much as him.
Instinct told her Drew sat to her right. She fought a grin that would only result in uncomfortable questions she didn’t want to answer. Being teased, blindfolded between two gorgeous men—totally something she should have added to the list.
Her eyes drifted shut behind the cloth when Cole leaned into her side and tucked her hair back to whisper in her ear. The slight touch of his hand on her neck gave her goose bumps.
“Is there a problem? Your skin is a little flushed. Feeling okay?” The way he said it was not out of concern for her illness. He enjoyed this.
“Payback’s a bitch, Cole.”
The brush up against her other shoulder and similar smell to the Scandals T-shirt she wore to bed last night let her know Drew itched to get involved. “Is there a problem you need my help with?”
She couldn’t take it anymore. The proximity of testosterone unraveled parts of her not touched in a really long time. “Ugh. Are we there, yet?”
Even Derek joined in on the laugh at her expense. “We’re here sunshine, enjoy. Low key tonight, boys. Everything’s been arranged, so call me when you’re ready.”
She held Cole’s hand and stepped out of the car, into the cool night air. It offered relief from the heat that coated her skin in the car, but only the visible areas. Others still demanded attention. She waited for direction. Someone jerked the knot at the back of her head and the blindfold floated to the ground, revealing a flashing sign.
“Karaoke.”
She took a step back, slammed into Cole’s solid chest and a rush of air escaped her, whether from the impact or something more, she didn’t know.
He wrapped his strong arms around her waist and sighed, followed by the most exotic hum of contentment.
His arms anchored her. She held on to him and transferred her gaze from the sign to Drew. He focused on Cole, and from the sight of his furrowed brows and the slight shake of his head, she missed something unsaid. It didn’t have to be. Cole stepped back, and a cold breeze replaced the warmth on her back.
Drew stepped forward, to lead the way with his arm around her shoulders. He glanced back at Cole. “Come on sweetheart, we are dying to see you put on a show for us.”
It took a second for her eyes to adjust to the darkened atmosphere. Subtle glows of gold and blue, the state’s colors, highlighted the popular areas of use—the bar, and the stage. The walls had donned a symbolic motif or autographed portraits of people of significance. Quite a bit of it was tacky, but well-placed to offer a modern style. The light crowd danced and mingled to the vibration of music, however they did pause to stare when she and the men entered the roped off area. Fame did elicit special treatment and attention. Zander left for the bar while everyone took their seat in the booth, her in the center with Cole’s arm draped around her like it were any casual day. She stared down at her twined fingers; it didn’t take much focus to feel the spotlight.
“I’ll get the first round.”
“Make mine a double.” The music ended just in time to make her voice echo. Cole tightened his embrace around her shoulders and chuckled. She giggled too.
Zander returned with empty hands and a killer grin on his face. Yes, they loved their lives. Three beautiful blondes followed him with trays of beer, a bottle of tequila, and many shot glasses ready to be used and abused.
She extracted the first glass from the woman’s hand before she could set it down and drank without coming up for air.
“You boys need anything, and I mean anything, let us know okay?” The well-endowed blonde bent over the table, low enough to display her rack for Cole, and slid him a drink.
Isabelle coughed a fit mid chug at the innuendo.
Tramp.
Brett banged on her back with a firm hand. “No need to choke. If you’re anything on stage like you are in the shower, you will have men making you offers too, hot stuff.”
His wink and smile could melt the panties off any woman.
No wonder.
She sat back as women approached their table, some for autographs and pictures, but most to flirt. The men laughed and joined in, teasing; it didn’t faze them. Within an hour Brett, Zander, and Drew held women on their laps, very comfortable. She stared into her drink whenever one approached Cole. He flirted back and appeared interested in every ridiculous thing they said, but his hand, the one no one could see under the table, stayed twined with hers every time. What was that about? So caught up in the mystery of him, she didn’t notice the man in front of her.
“Hello.”
A beer cap hit her in the chest.
“Damn it, Zander.” She snapped her head in his direction. He tipped his chin up in the other direction and she followed his gaze.
“Hello.”
“Hi.” She smiled wide and leaned forward to shake the attractive man’s hand. The combination of painkillers and alcohol relaxed her. The label told her not to mix the two, but hello, Karaoke.
When she sat back, Cole placed his arm around her, and glared daggers at the man. He stood confident, not bothered by Cole’s back the fuck off vibe. “Save a dance for me?”
His dimples were beautiful. “Sure.”
“The stage is open, folks. Let’s see who can make a scene.”
She snapped her attention back to the stage.
Hoots and hollers sounded and people made their way up front to pick a song they were sure to butcher. The attractive gentleman got the hint and shuffled away when the four men harassed her and ignored his presence. Cole dropped his arm to the table, picked up his beer, and drank all of the amber-colored liquid in one swallow.
“Come on. Get that hot, young ass up there.”
He leaned in to kiss the side of her head. Compliments from Drew, well, from any of them, often resulted in a tender touch and a smile filled with pride. She took a deep breath; her heart raced. “I’ll go last. I want to ensure everyone’s too drunk to notice me.” She straightened her back and practiced the bullheaded glare she’d seen from Cole moments ago, on all of them.
“I’ll always notice you.”
His words in her ear were beyond exciting. Her breath hitched when he tucked his hand under the table, and squeezed her knee before he slid it up her thigh. The denim skirt and tank she changed into before they left allowed for easy access, skin-to-skin contact. He held her legs apart when she clenched her muscles to close them. Heat scorched the path he grazed with his fingers as he continued along her bare skin.
Everyone’s attention was averted to the many novices who took the stage; she sat back and closed her eyes. His seductive ways overwhelmed every one of her senses. Never had she been so uninhibited in public, driven by erotic fantasy. She spread her legs further apart. He teased, traced tiny circles up both of her inner thighs. The wild woman she intended to be would’ve taken charge, directed his hand, and demanded that he please her. A moan escaped her lips just before he hit her sweet spot. She lowered her hand to the hem he’d hiked up, anticipated that he’d drift in another direction once again. Not this time.
“Your turn, Izzy,” Brett hollered over the loud pounding, and the music.
She had vaguely heard the many horrific renditions, but he kept her afloat a cloud of pleasure she didn’t want to come down from.
“Nooo,” she whispered, close to a whine.
Cole chuckled. He smoothed his hand back over the path he forged until it cleared her skirt, and gave her leg a quick tap. “You’re up, darlin’.”
Four pairs of eyes stared when she crashed back down to earth, and Drew’s wink said it all. “Well now, Izzy, a little frustrated over there? Should make for one hell of a show, although the one we just caught was pretty damn hot.”
She jostled out of her seat, a lot easier to do with alcohol in her blood and the sexual frustration that tormented her body. “You guys are asses.”
They laughed and tipped their beers back. She stormed away.
****
Cole sat up, elbows on the table, and waited while she talked to the DJ. She took his breath away. The women who hit on him tonight and in front of her no less—none compared. He played along, needed to for the band’s sake, but no one could hold a candle to the fiery need that washed over him when he caressed her thigh. He neared the point of no return when it came to her, and it scared him.
She can’t die.
His gaze traveled down her body to her knees as she rubbed them together, uncomfortable. The corner of his mouth rose with curiosity. Did her cooling body crave more of his hand, other parts of him, perhaps? When a brief moment of sadness crossed her face, the urge to shove everyone out of the way to get to her pained him.
Laughter from the guys brought his attention back to the table and the drinks that vibrated along with his knee.
“Hey Cole, man, chill. Got it bad, don’t ya?” Before Drew could finish his inquisition, the music started and all four men froze, their attention stolen by her tenacity. She belted out the words to Nickelback’s If Today Was Your Last Day.
The crowd joined in with the lyrics but the men only mumbled curses. Brett, Zander, and Drew shoved the groupies off their laps, their grumbles at the rejection not even on the men’s radar. Cole glanced at his friends while they stared at the stage and if he presumed right, somewhat in awe of her strength, but also concerned.
He rubbed his thighs, forced himself from the seat, and before it hit him, stood in front of the stage. Her confidence fooled the crowd and maybe that’s what she needed right now, but he didn’t buy it. The dance floor thinned out when her song finished, and the DJ announced last call, but they continued to stare at one another.
A slow song calmed the room around them, set the pace for a dramatic night’s end. He extended his arms, grabbed hold of her waist, and lowered her to the floor in front of him. Her body grazed his on the way down and ignited more friction between them than their clothes alone could produce. “Dance with me?”
He didn’t wait for an answer, just seized her beautiful torso and swayed with his chin on top of her head. “You could have picked a song a little more…uplifting.”
She leaned back and peered up at him. “Would you have preferred, Live Like You Were Dying by Tim McGraw?”
He clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes at her. If their roles were reversed, he’d act the same way, but they weren’t, and that was too far.
“Cole,” she sighed. “I’m trying to cope with the worst news of my entire life for the second time. Cut me some slack.” With her head held high, her gaze lowered to his chest. “Please.”
He’d absorb her pain if that were possible, lessen the agony in her eyes. He’d store it with his own, wear the burden for her. He touched her chin with his hand and their gazes met before resting his forehead to hers.
“Please.”
She didn’t need to plead with him for help to forget. He held her face in his palms, crushed his lips down on hers, and forced his tongue inside. It wasn’t a moment to be gentle; desperation to be in an entranced state of mind overpowered him. He needed to touch her, all of her, but didn’t feel she was ready to delve that deep into her list. She could stop him at any time, and he’d be fine with that, but until then, he’d test her limits. He lowered his hands from her face and down her front, over the swells of her soft breasts. She moaned as he brushed his thumbs over her peaked nipples and continued down to her hips. He urged her backward, to a secluded area. When her back hit the wall he cupped her ass and molded his body to hers, but it wasn’t enough. He broke away from the sweet taste of her mouth and kissed down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone. She ran her fingers through his hair and fisted the untamed locks. If she urged him down, he’d oblige her every demand.
“Cole.” The last frayed thread of restraint within him broke at the sound of his name on her lips. He slid his hands down, below the hem of her skirt and massaged up again, raising the material with them. Her legs trembled. “You have to stop me,” he panted. “’Cause I won’t stop until I’m balls deep inside you, and this isn’t the place for that to happen.”
“Damn right, it isn’t.” Drew tapped him on the shoulder and yanked him back. “Derek’s on his way with the car. How about you take it somewhere there aren’t cellphone cameras. We’ve already promised tickets to tomorrow night’s show in order to get people to delete pictures. It’s a sold-out show.”
Cole smiled at her when she panicked, scrambling to fix her skirt but couldn’t do a damn thing about the flush of her skin. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I will pay for the tickets.”
Drew tossed a cocky glance at him before turning back to her. “Relax sweetheart. It isn’t the first bribe for pictures.”
He elbowed Drew. “Did you at least send them to my phone before you deleted them?”
She smacked him. He held his shoulder and pretended to be in pain but couldn’t maintain the charade without a glint of amusement.
“Cole Davies.” Her shriek only incited howls and fist bumps. Drew tugged her from the wall by the hand, toward the exit. “You’ll have to take that up with Zander, buddy. I am pretty sure they’re on his phone though. We’re gonna have to get his number changed—again.” He leaned down to kiss her cheek and winked before he flashed a grin over his shoulder. “Make sure to send me a copy if you get your hands on them. It gave me a hard-on watching.”
Cole held the door open and composed himself into the perfect gentleman, albeit an overdramatic one.
“Pfft.” She elbowed him on the way by.
She stared out the window of the car, very quiet. Did he go too far? He didn’t regret it. He was falling for her, hard. He let his head tip back to the seat and sighed when he laced their fingers, and she didn’t stop him.
The cool night air didn’t fix a thing, he was still hard enough to pound nails, and her scent lingered on his skin.
The guys climbed the stairs of the bus first, and he’d followed their lead, until she squeezed his hand to hold him back. “Cole, we need to talk.”
“Yes Isabelle, we do. You said something at the bar, about getting news for a second time. What did you mean?” He raised her hand up to his mouth for a kiss, but this time she rejected him.
When he took a step forward, she held her hand up between them. “Well, the news of my diagnosis was terrible. It changed my life.”
He nodded and fisted his hands. It hurt to see her glance anywhere but at him. He’d tell her she could trust him with anything, but more experienced than most, trust didn’t always come easy.
“I’m married.”
Now he stepped back.
She held her hands in the air. “David Chambers is my husband, or, was my husband. Not so long ago a police officer, and family friend, showed up at my door.” She lowered her rigid arms to her sides, hands also fisted. “David was killed in a motor vehicle accident. We were only married for two years.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek. He stepped to her with his hand raised, not quite sure if wiping the moisture from her face would do any good. Could any act of empathy erase that kind of loss? Before he could try, she shoved him away, but this time it hit him more like a punch to the heart.
“I need to fulfill this list before I get on the operating table. Never in a million years did I imagine this—” She pointed from him to her. “—would happen. I want to continue, but without all these feelings. I refuse to leave behind more loved ones than I have to.” She darted onto the bus before he could respond.
Did she just imply that she could love me?