Echoes of Scotland Street (On Dublin Street #5)(48)
Author: Samantha Young

“Cole,” I gasped, and reached for his hand only for him to grab it with his other and press my palm against his chest.

He bent his head, bringing our bodies closer and his hand even higher up my skirt as he kissed my neck. I shivered as those kisses were scattered upward until his teeth were nibbling at my ear. “About tonight . . . ,” he whispered, and his fingers dipped beneath my underwear. “Are you sure you’re too tired?”

My hips jerked in surprise at the touch of his cool thumb on my clit. Heat and shock held me against him as he played with me in broad daylight in the studio. “Cole,” I panted, my fingers curling around his shirt. My whole body was flushed and my thighs were trembling as I pressed my hips into his touch.

His lips brushed against mine, teasing me. “I’ll take that as a ‘no, I’m not too tired.’”

Senseless with want, I wrapped my hands behind his head and tugged him back down for a real kiss as my climax grew nearer.

I came with a breathless moan against his lips, my lower body jerking against him.

Cole groaned, slipping his hand out from beneath my skirt to smooth it back down. He kissed me again, his hands soothing and comforting as they glided down my waist and around my back.

Finally I came back to myself. I stiffened. I’d just let him bring me to orgasm in a public place and I hadn’t done anything to stop him. Honestly I’d been mindless to have him.

So much for distancing myself from him. Or making up my mind about what I wanted.

I was such a mess.

*   *   *

Settling the last page on the small pile of chapters, I looked up at Joss, who was sitting at a dressing table in the corner. We were in the nursery at Elodie and Clark Nichols’s house and Joss had been waiting impatiently as I read through the first three chapters of her latest manuscript.

“I know it’s different from anything I’ve ever done before.”

“Yes.” I nodded seriously. Then I grinned. “But I love it.”

Joss stood up, her gray eyes hard to read. “Really?”

“Definitely.” I handed her the chapters. “It’s still got your signature style—the dark humor, the earthiness, the somehow unsentimental sentiment. But you’ve added action and mystery and grit and intrigue. I love it. I can’t wait to read the rest.”

A slow, pleased smile lit up Joss’s face. “Well, I have to write it first. I just wanted a reader’s opinion before I continue any further—someone I can trust. Cole said I could definitely trust you.”

I flushed inwardly at Cole’s praise. Sometimes he made me feel guilty as sin for not trusting him in return. Huh, sometimes? Try all the time.

“Thanks for trusting me.”

And as if she read my mind, Joss smirked. “Maybe you could try trusting Cole.”

“Did he say something?” I could feel myself bristling inwardly. My business was my business. It wasn’t for Cole to be telling people.

“Not much. But he finds himself surrounded by a lot of women who have adored him since he was a kid, so we tend to get a bit nosy and all up in his business.” She grinned, like it was funny or something. I didn’t really agree. “We managed to find out what I already suspected: You don’t trust him because of a bad breakup.”

Slowly the tension eased out of me. “But that’s all he said?”

“Yeah, no details from Cole. He wouldn’t do that to you. I’m not dumb, however, Shannon. I know bad in your case means bad.” She gave my shoulder a comforting squeeze. “But you can trust Cole. He cares about you.”

I didn’t respond, because I didn’t know what to say. My chest began to ache as we walked downstairs and the sounds of laughter and conversation hit our ears. Cole deserved to be with someone who could not only trust him but give herself to him the way that he was willing to give himself in return.

Oh God.

Was it time already? Did I need to walk away?

Feeling sick at the thought, I found it took everything within me to smile at Cole as Joss led me into the dining room. The place was a crush with one large dining table and a smaller one at the end of the room where the kids were sitting. Apparently I was visiting on one of the rare days that everyone was free for Sunday lunch.

Cole tucked me in beside him and I had Hannah and Sophia on my other side. Somehow Elodie miraculously managed to get food in front of everyone.

“Nate, tell them the what-if story.” Liv chuckled at her husband.

Nate smiled across the room and I followed his gaze. His and Liv’s daughter, Lily, a dark-haired beauty around the age of seven, was giggling with her sister, January, and Joss and Braden’s daughter, Beth. Seeing her occupied, Nate nodded.

Liv looked at me. “We just got back from a weekend break in Argyll.”

“So we’re in Dunoon,” Nate explained. “Liv’s on the docks with January because Jan’s still a bit afraid of water. So I take Lily out on a rowing boat on the loch to teach her to fish. And Lily is going through her what-if phase.”

“What’s a what-if phase?” I asked.

“The what-if phase,” Braden said, “is a phase most kids go through. All day, every day, for what feels like months, they ask what-if questions.”

I laughed and nodded at Nate to continue.

“So Lily and I are on the boat and she’s asking me a ton of questions and I’m trying to answer them as patiently as possible. ‘Dad,’ she said, ‘what if we don’t catch any fish?’ ‘Then there will be one more fish in the loch.’ ‘Dad, what if we lose an oar?’ ‘Then I’ll use the one we have left to get us back to the docks.’ ‘Dad, what if we lose both oars?’ ‘Then we’ll paddle back with our hands.’ ‘Dad, what if a boat came?’ ‘Then we’d get out of the way.’ ‘What if it was really close?’ ‘We’d get out of the way really fast.’ ‘Dad, what if you didn’t see the boat?’ And by now I’m losing my patience. ‘Lily,’ I said, ‘I thought you wanted to learn how to fish. Why all the boat questions?’ ‘Because, Dad, there’s a big boat behind you.’ I look over my shoulder and the Dunoon ferry is right there!”

We all burst out laughing as Nate starts gesturing with his hands. “I start rowing like hell to get us out of the way and Lily’s just sitting there calm as you please.”

Shaking with laughter against Cole’s side, I could tell the parents at the table totally got the conversation. I didn’t think I’d ever gone through a what-if phase as a child. My parents weren’t big conversationalists, so I probably didn’t even bother to ask.