Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91622 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
The first time he’d run into her after they’d slept together, he’d been abrupt. Curt. He’d wanted to make sure she knew he wasn’t looking for her happy smile, flushed cheeks, or warm wave hello. Even if she had been the only good thing about his return home so far. That lack of interaction continued when they saw each other, and though he hated it, he understood keeping her at a distance was better than encouraging any thoughts she might have of a them. Because Erin was the kind of woman who would both want and deserve all the things small-town life entailed. Things Cole could never give her.
That changed a couple of days ago when, cheery smile on her face, Erin saw him at Joe’s. She walked over and made polite small talk, which he managed to survive despite the scent of her perfume reminding him of their explosive night together in bed. It had taken fucking weeks for the arousing smell to dissipate enough to let him sleep in peace without those memories keeping him constantly hard and wanting her.
Since his beer hadn’t been served, he’d had no choice but to wait. Talk. Let her put her soft hand on his arm, which brought back memories of those talented fingers cupping other places on his body.
As soon as Joe slid his drink across the bar, Cole had cut Erin off and bolted, getting as far away from her as he possibly could by heading upstairs immediately. She might think he was a bastard, and the hurt look on her face made him feel like one, but she didn’t need the aggravation that came with being associated with Cole Sanders or the lifestyle he lived.
Even if she did tempt him with her good-girl persona, her creamy, soft skin, and the combustible chemistry that had taken him off guard. Not to mention the light laughter that warmed his chilled, dark soul.
“Enough,” he muttered. Gritting his teeth, he headed to his old Mustang for the drive to his father’s place.
Heaven help him.
He wondered what kind of mood he’d find his father in today.
After Cole and his mother left, his parents had divorced, just another one of the things for which Jed blamed his no-good son. Though his mother had remarried a good man, Jed remained alone and miserable. Cole normally stayed away, but his father was getting older, and as long as Cole was in town, he’d do what he could to help, whether the other man wanted him there or not.
Cole pulled up in front of the house where he grew up, taking it in with a critical eye. Never mind the invisible loose floorboard over which Jed had tripped and broken his arm—the paint was peeling, the windows needed cleaning, and if they didn’t get the roof fixed by next winter, his father would have his hands full with trouble.
For now, however, he’d focus on the smaller jobs, and if Jed was in a decent mood, Cole would try talking to him about moving into a smaller condo that was easier to take care of and had covered maintenance. His father had bitten his head off the first time he’d made the suggestion.
Cole walked up the driveway, surprised to see a sporty royal-blue Jeep parked in front of the garage. He knew who owned that car and muttered a curse. For as much as he’d tried avoiding her in person and thoughts of her in his mind, it appeared luck wasn’t on his side.
* * *
Erin put the two casseroles her mother had made for Jed into his freezer and the other she placed on a shelf in his refrigerator. Since Jed had been her father’s right-hand man as long as Erin’s dad had been the police chief, her parents treated him like family. So before going on her monthlong Alaskan cruise vacation, Ella had cooked up meals to help him out while his arm was in a cast and had asked Erin to take over her job of making sure Jed had a stocked freezer while they were away.
It was hard for men like Jed and Erin’s father to accept illness or age gracefully. Erin’s dad was in remission from lymphoma, hence her parents’ decision to make the most of the years they had left. Jed’s heart attack last year, his high blood pressure, and now his broken arm frustrated the hell out of him. He’d always been around when she was growing up, at both the house and of course the station, so helping him out wasn’t a hardship.
Or it hadn’t been when she’d agreed to do it. Now that she was pregnant with his son’s child, she wasn’t at all comfortable here.
She turned to Jed to go over the cooking instructions. “So all you need to do is heat the oven to 350 and put this in for about thirty minutes. Or you can cut pieces and microwave them individually. Got it?” Erin asked, turning as she closed the refrigerator door.