Unwrapping Holly: Page 3

  In her mind, Holly was Tabitha; their personalities were alike. She smiled. Cole was her renegade, a man who didn’t fit the conventions of the world she’d built for herself. Interesting . . .

  Seeing Cole again would be research. Work. A good way to feed her creative juices. She bit her bottom lip. Did she dare do this? Did she dare see Cole again? There would be nothing to pull her away from him this time, no family commitment. No job to get to the next morning. Nothing to keep her from finding out if he was really as good as her midnight fantasies conjured him to be. And that’s what this had to be about—work mixed with a one-night fantasy—something she didn’t indulge in.

  And why not? Why didn’t she ever indulge in fun fantasies? She wasn’t an attorney working around the clock to become a partner, worried about fitting into their perfect mold. She didn’t even want to fit into the mold she’d formed for herself way back when.

  Holly made her decision. Cole was exciting, and both her book and her body were in desperate need of some excitement. She grimaced. Of course, there was a strong possibility that Cole wouldn’t live up to her dreams. Her track record of failed relationships was pretty darned rock solid. But even the slight chance that Cole would be different . . . well, that chance had her reaching for the ruby.

  Holly held the ruby in her palm and made a wish. Please let this be a smart choice. Okay. Boring wish. Not a fantasy worth wishing. She refocused. Please let Cole be as sinfully good in bed as my fantasies— please let him be that good. Laughter bubbled from Holly’s lips. Right. Like the ruby could decide his prowess. No. The pleasure would have to be all about the man. And Holly was going to enjoy demanding full disclosure.

  COLE LOUNGED AT THE BAR of The Tavern, wearing a facade of languid disinterest, a cup of black coffee in front of him, no interest in alcohol tonight. He’d much rather get drunk on Holly. If Holly showed.

  Lord only knew he’d spent the better part of the day trying to convince himself not to come tonight—Holly was a distraction he couldn’t afford right now, not with one business being sold and a bed-and-breakfast business to launch. But she was in his blood, and on his mind. There was no shutting off the fierceness of his reaction to meeting her.

  Clearly, he’d ignored his physical needs for far too long—it was the only explanation for the wicked distraction she’d created in him. Not a difficult task, considering he’d long been without a woman—by choice, not necessity.

  The female population of Haven outnumbered the males two to one. The single females three to one. In other words, the women were on the hunt, willing to surrender to a man’s every desire in order to garner a ring on their finger. To a visiting male, that sounded like fucking heaven. To Cole, it was the one little piece of hell in the town he loved. He and his brothers were on every single woman’s “to do” and “shackle at the altar” lists. Thanks, but no thanks.

  He’d never felt inclined to marriage. Nothing against it. His parents had been damned happy, and he’d grown up better for it. But it just wasn’t his thing. Never met a woman he could wake up with more than a few times without feeling suffocated. At thirty-four, he didn’t see that changing.

  But with the sale of the family business to a larger Manchester operation—his brothers were closing the last local jobs—his work demands had leaned toward bookkeeping and transition issues, and lots of them. All he could manage was a trip to work or to his own bed, alone. Luckily, they’d snagged a large enough sum for the contracting business to allow Cole and his brothers to redirect their efforts to their new endeavor, the remodeling of a large, local home into a bed-and-breakfast. The three of them could focus on one project, instead of chasing their tails between Haven and Manchester to pay the bills. Now that was going to be heaven.

  The bartender motioned to Cole’s mug, asking if he needed a refill. Cole waved him away. He didn’t want coffee. He wanted a long, deep drink of Holly. Sexy, funny, prim little Holly. He was going to enjoy the challenge of sliding past the reserve he’d sensed in her.

  Cole began conjuring a wicked fantasy about just that when his brother Jacob, the baby of the bunch at twenty-five, and almost ten years Cole’s junior, appeared by his side.

  “Did hell freeze over or what?” Jacob asked, surprise in his voice, a pool cue in hand.

  Damn. The last thing Cole needed was Jacob panting over his shoulder when Holly arrived. “Speaking of hell,” Cole commented. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “You’re not working,” Jacob explained. “If I didn’t know better, sometimes I’d think you had a love affair with your desk.” His gaze drifted to the coffee cup. “All work and no play seems to have you a bit confused, big brother. That’s not beer.”

  Cole reached for his cup and gave Jacob a mock toast. “They ran out of beer mugs.” He took a drink.

  To say that Cole and Jacob were complete opposites would be an understatement. Jacob lived bold and wild, while Cole was reserved and controlled. Even Jacob’s light brown hair was a little too long, his actions, a bit too spontaneous. Cole preferred a balance between work and play, which required more thoughtful actions. The same way he’d thought out every little place he wanted to kiss Holly.

  That was exactly why he had to get rid of Jacob. “Leaving soon?”

  “Why?” Jacob perked up. “Got a hot date I can steal from you?”

  “Seriously,” Cole said. “When are you leaving?” On another occasion, with a different woman, sharing a beer with his brother, he might just jump on the familiar challenge. But not now, not with Holly—not a chance. She was his.

  “Ryder’s home on leave,” Jacob stated of his old school bud, a Navy SEAL who showed up from time to time, always unannounced. Ryder was an expert at punching Jacob’s buttons.

  “How much you down?” Cole asked, making it clear to Jacob that he knew he was getting his butt kicked.

  “Two hundred,” Jacob admitted grimly. “But it’s still early.”

  “Plenty of time to lose more,” Cole added sarcastically. For the most part, he respected his brother’s unwillingness to back away from a challenge. But he also believed there were calculated times of retreat, and this would be one of them. “I’d tell you to stop before you bleed any more, but I know it would be wasted breath.”

  A cold blast of air rushed through the room as The Tavern door swung open, followed immediately by a blast of hot fire in his blood as he spotted Holly. So did every other man in the room—heads turned. His brother’s head turned.

  Possessiveness purred within him, precluding a downright growl. She had that sexy schoolteacher vibe that made a man want to crawl under her desk and make her scream—to prove he was the only man who could.

  Yanking off her hat, she surveyed the bar, shaking free her long, silky blond hair a moment before her gaze caught on Cole. Instant awareness coiled low in his stomach. Jacob let out a low whistle. “I think I just found my Christmas present.”

  As if she could hear his words across the distance, over the sound of Elvis’s “White Christmas” on the jukebox, her gaze snapped to the left, to Jacob. She remained still, perfectly still, and Cole sensed her unease.

  “Oh yeah,” Jacob said, studying her too intently for Cole. “I am definitely going to need an introduction.”

  “Not a chance in hell,” Cole ground out between clenched teeth. “This one is off-limits, so back off.”

  He would have said more, but, without warning, Holly launched herself into motion as she darted in the direction of the ladies’ room. Clearly, she was not happy he wasn’t alone.

  “Damn,” Cole muttered under his breath, fearful she would change her mind about seeing him again. And he was aware there was a back door by the restrooms. If she bolted, he might not find her again. For reasons he didn’t try to understand, that didn’t sit well.

  Cole pushed off the bar, ready for the pursuit, but paused to cast his brother a warning. “Ryder can only beat you and take your money if you keep playing.”

  He di
dn’t wait for an answer, though Jacob replied with some sort of defensive mumbling that Cole decisively tuned out. He was already walking toward the restrooms, ready to move to Plan B. Jacob wasn’t going anywhere soon, and he wanted Holly all to himself. Now, he just had to convince her that was a good idea.

  His pulse kicked up a beat as he entered the narrow hallway leading to the restrooms and scrubbed his jaw, contemplating how Holly might react to finding him standing outside the door. And contemplated some more. Minutes passed and Holly didn’t appear. Had she left? Damn it to hell. This was not how he had this night planned.

  Voices sounded in the hallway—one of which was Jacob’s, and—holy hell—Abe! Great. Jacob loved fucking with his head. Add his other brother to the mix, and it became ball-busting brotherly love. The kind he could do without tonight.

  Suddenly, the doorknob to the restroom jiggled and Holly appeared in the doorway, her long silky hair cascading down her shoulders, a single stall and sink as her backdrop. Desire twisted in his gut, just as it had the night before.

  “Cole?” Shock registered on her face at the sight of him there, waiting for her.

  If she was shocked now, she’d be ten times more so when his two brothers invaded the tiny hallway. Cole’s mind raced; the voices were growing louder. He stepped forward, his hands sliding under her coat, the warmth of her body seeping through the long sweater dress she wore.

  Her lush pink lips parted in a gasp as he shuffled her into the restroom. “What are you doing?”

  “Saving you from a family reunion with my brothers,” he told her, kicking the door shut behind him.

  She was flustered by his unexpected behavior. Her pretty, pale cheeks were flushed. Her hands rested on his chest, ready to shove him, yet she attacked with words, not actions. “Whatever the reason, it’s not okay. You bullied me into a restroom without asking permission. And you’re in the women’s restroom!”

  He arched a brow, amused, turned on. That damned prim quality she exuded was downright hot. “Without asking permission?” he inquired, watching her flush deepen. “I’ll ask next time.”

  She pursed her pretty lips, not at all pleased with his rebuttal. “There won’t be a next time!” she countered. “I’m leaving.” She dropped her hands, tried to sidestep him.

  Voices sounded—his brothers. Then the sound of the back door.

  “His truck’s still here,” Jacob said clearly. “Maybe he left with that woman.”

  Cole tightened his hands on her waist. “That’s them,” he told her. “Do you really want to be seen walking out of here with me? Because I can promise you, it will amuse my brothers, among others. It’s a small town. Gossip is king.” He let go of her, but stayed close, again giving her a choice.

  A frustrated sound slid from her lips. “Yes,” she said. “I know that all too well. I grew up here.”

  His interest piqued, Cole would have probed for more information, but she wasn’t done voicing her distress just yet. Panic brushed her features, laced her voice. “I don’t want my parents embarrassed by this,” she said, her hands fluttering in the air with the words and causing her scarf to slide off her shoulders to the ground.

  Cole bent down to pick it up at the same moment that she did, their hands colliding in an electric charge of instant sexual awareness. They were facing each other, knees brushing, hands touching. Their eyes locked, lingered, burned with smoldering attraction. Her lips parted, as her chest rose with an inhaled breath—an invitation to kiss her that he barely resisted.

  Instead, Cole slid the scarf around her neck and held on to it, resisting the urge to pull her closer. “I just want you to myself, Holly. Not a part of the circus of my brothers’ well-intended fun.” The familiar sound of their voices gave him pause, and he motioned to the hall. “Listen.”

  She strained her ears along with him. His brothers’ voices were growing more distant. “They’re leaving, for now.” He took her hand and helped her to her feet.

  “Oh, thank goodness,” she whispered. “Now if we can dodge any other attention.”

  He was still holding her hand. “I’m parked out back,” he told her. “Come with me. Another bar, a restaurant, anywhere you want. Just not here.”

  She hesitated. “I don’t know. I . . . This isn’t going how I planned this.”

  “Few things go as planned,” he commented.

  “Actuall y—”

  He cut her off by pulling her close and pressing his lips to hers, swallowing her gasp as his tongue slid into the deep, warm recesses of her mouth and caressed. It was a short, sensual play of his tongue along hers before he pulled back and said, “Planning is overrated, Holly. Don’t plan. Don’t think. Just say yes.”

  She blinked up at him, her chest heaving slightly. He could sense the kiss had rattled her, aroused her. Shook her to the core. Well, she wasn’t the only one. Holly had him twisted in knots. He wanted her. Had to have her on a primal level that reached beyond simple lust. It burned clear to his soul. “Just say yes, Holly.”

  She swallowed and shook her head. “Yes.”

  Chapter Three

  Holly followed Cole down the hallway, his big hand swallow ing her smaller one, her heart racing a million miles an hour. Good Lord, the man could kiss. It was almost embarrassing how well he kissed. Or rather, how Holly reacted to his kiss. She was wet. Wet! When in her life had one kiss damned near brought her to orgasm? Every inch of her body was aware of this man. And it both scared the heck out of her and excited her at the same time. Holly liked it, too. Liked this edgy, daring, sexy feeling Cole created in her.

  And he was right. Planning was overrated. She’d certainly never planned to end up in that restroom like she did, but had she not—she might never have been kissed like that.

  She wanted more of those kisses, which meant leaving was good. And unlike Thanksgiving evening, tonight the place was bustling with people; Haven’s wagging tongues were piled into The Tavern in force and she wanted no part of them. No wit nesses. No connection beyond the night. No tomorrow or judgment.

  With a hard shove, Cole pushed against a wicked wind to open the exit door. Snow fluttered furiously around them.

  They stepped outside, where the cold air battered their bodies, a violent contrast to the heat they’d generated in that restroom.

  Holly huddled deeper into her long, cashmere black coat, shivering violently, her gloves and hat still tucked in the bag hanging over her shoulder. Clearly, her decision-making where wardrobe was concerned was far too rooted in Texas living, because, suddenly, her dress, tights, and winter boots felt about as appropriate as a bikini. The cold cut a path up her skirt and chilled her to the bone. One didn’t dress to impress a date in this weather. One dressed to stay warm. An old lesson she was relearning the hard way.

  Protectively, Cole pulled her close, under his shoulder, so his big body blocked the wintry elements from attacking her, without concern for the absence of his coat, which he’d apparently left behind.

  “You need your coat!” she yelled against the wind. The navy, long-sleeved tee and jeans he wore were barely enough to be called decent in these temperatures. The man must really want to avoid his brothers, but then, she had sisters, and could appreciate where he was coming from. She could love them and want to beat them within an inch of their lives, all in one beautiful, twisted moment.

  Cole pointed to the far corner of the parking lot where a black pickup truck set in a secluded corner, one of the three vehicles parked in the rear of the building. “I’m over there.”

  Holly nodded as a gust of wind darned near turned her to ice, and she eagerly melted farther under the shelter of Cole’s arm, which was draped around her shoulders. They couldn’t get to his truck fast enough to suit Holly, and when he clicked the lock and held the driver’s door open, she eagerly scooted inside. She couldn’t see through the ice and snow on the windows; they would need to defrost to travel. Holly barely had time to slide her purse to the floorboard, let alone contemplate s
eating arrangements, before Cole had closed them inside the cabin, started the truck, and cranked up the heat. The next thing she knew, he was reaching for her.

  “Come here,” Cole ordered in a low, masculine voice that danced along her nerve endings almost as erotically as his muscular leg that was now aligned with hers. He opened her coat, merging their bodies beneath it. “I’ll keep you warm until the heater kicks into gear.” He grabbed her cold hand and brought it to his lips. His eyes locked with hers. “You’re freezing.” He covered her hand with his own to warm it.

  Freezing? He thought she was freezing? Was he crazy? Holly was feeling the melting-butter effect he had on her all over again.

  “You’re the one without the coat,” she managed hoarsely.

  “I’ve lived in the cold all my life,” he replied, obviously assuming she had not. “I’m used to it. But then, you mentioned growing up here.”

  She nodded. “Yes, but I’ve been in Texas a long time. I’d be in shorts right now if I were still there.”

  He arched a brow. “Texas. That’s a long way from home.”

  “Yes,” she said, biting back the urge to say more. He had said no thinking, no planning. And that felt right. It felt like the fantasy she’d burned for. “A long way from home.”

  A penetrating stare followed—he sent her a deep probing look that said he was trying to read her and, indeed, had. She saw the moment he registered the reason she’d avoided giving out personal details—the moment he knew she sought anonymous pleasure. He showed no reaction to that conclusion, but she doubted he’d complain.

  He began rubbing her hand again, warming it a second before he reached out and tested the air flowing from the vent. “It’s already getting warm.” He tilted it more in her direction. “Can you feel that?”