Cole(54)

“My what?”

“The driver downstairs. He called me Sailer.”

Cole frowned. “I don’t know. That order came through Dorian.”

“I thought he said you told him to drive me home.”

“The order came from me, but it would’ve been Dorian who called him.”

“Oh.” I cleared my head. I could still feel that flush; it was covering my ears. “I was a Sailer, but I’m not anymore. I’m a Bowman. No matter who I’ve been with, I’ve always been a Bowman. I’m not a Bertal. I am not with them. I was haunted every day and every night after Liam died, and it only stopped when I came here.” I stared at Cole, but it was more than staring. I had so many damn walls.

I was tired of the walls, of the secrets, of the not knowing. My voice grew hoarse. “I stopped hearing his voice after I came here. I can still feel him, but in a good way—like we’re laughing together again, or he wants me to be happy. And the nights with you… I haven’t felt like myself in so long. You gave that to me. I wasn’t Liam’s wife or his widow those nights. I was me. I was Addison. That’s all I was, and I loved it.”

Tears fell down my cheeks

I whispered, “I came to you, and the ghosts left me.”

His eyes darkened, and he stood. He moved close, stopping just out of reach. I could feel his heat. My walls were down now, so were his. The mask was gone, and I saw the lust inside of him. I saw more, a whole lot more, but I clung to the lust because my body was starting to react. My mouth watered, and that ache—the ache that hadn’t been filled in a month—began to throb once more.

I wanted him.

He grinned, faintly, before taking the last step. His body touched mine, and I closed my eyes, savoring the feeling. Hard. Strong. And more, so much more.

“I’m going to pick you up,” he murmured. He spoke to me like I was a wounded animal. Like he wanted to comfort me, but he didn’t want to scare me away. He was soothing and seducing me all at the same time.

And that was exactly what I wanted.

Bending down, his hands touched my waist, and he stood again. I wrapped myself around him and held tight. I couldn’t have made myself let go, even if I wanted to. I was his. He was mine. I didn’t care what would happen. I couldn’t deny this feeling. I needed him.

He looked up into my eyes. “Now I’m going to walk you back to the bedroom.”

“I have an idea where this is going.”

He drew a deep breath, his eyes growing soft. “I’m going to do everything you want me to do. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to. If you want me to hold you, I’ll never let you go. If you want me to kiss you all night long, you’ll have to buy me chapstick in the morning. Anything you want, I’ll do.” He carried me to the bed and laid me down. His arms never let me go. He bent over me, my arms and legs still wrapped around him. His forehead rested against mine, so softly, matching his voice, “Except leave. That’s the only thing I won’t do.” His eyes searched my face, studying every detail.

“I’m going to help you become Addison once more. Just you. Just me. No one else.” And then, as his mouth touched mine, gently, tenderly, he did as he’d promised.





Cole was in the mafia. The motherfucking mafia.

The sun had begun to creep in. It was probably around seven in the morning, and I lay there, wide awake, as he slept next to me. The sheet trailed down, resting a little higher than his waist, giving me a good eyeful.

I knew his chest and back were contoured with muscles, but I didn’t know about the scars. I saw them clearly now, scattered all over him. There were two holes in his chest: one by his shoulder and another lower on his side. I leaned over and touched the latter. It was bigger than the other and had been stitched up, leaving a little ridge where the stitches healed.

This man—I studied his face again. His eyes were closed, his body relaxed, and he looked peaceful. I realized how little I knew about this man. He was the head of his family, but what did that mean? The articles I’d found on the web said Carter Reed had run the family until last year. One blog went into more detail than the others and said he’d been the one to name Cole as the new leader.

My mind raced.

If there was peace between the Mauricio family and the Bertals, why did Liam’s parents seem guilty of something? They were scared and tense, and all that jazz, but there was more under the surface. Carol had gotten the same look on her face the one time I confronted her about the women she kept pushing on Liam. I went to her house, told her to stop bringing them around. She’d looked ashamed that day, but only that day.