Unwrapping Holly(28)

“Your brothers might be a pain some days, but you’re lucky to have your siblings nearby,” Holly said. Being around Cole and his brothers had made her wish her siblings were closer. But now even moving back home wouldn’t make that happen, since the Reddy siblings had all left Haven. “And as for the cooking,” she added. “I do make a mean box of Kraft mac and cheese. Add a little Texas salsa and it’s gourmet, baby.”

Cole’s cell phone rang a moment before it vibrated across the countertop beside Holly. “Can you see if that’s Abe?” he asked, lifting the pan to pour the eggs onto a plate. She knew he didn’t want to miss the call. He’d been trying to reach Abe about some survey on the property they were buying; the meeting was being moved to later that day.

Holly’s chest tightened with the request. They were feeling like a couple. She’d never felt like a couple. Never wanted to be a couple. She grabbed the phone and scanned the screen. “It’s him,” she said.

“Can you answer it?” Smoke poured from the pan as he ran water over it. Bacon crackled on the stove with the need for attention. “Tell him to hold on.”

Another moment of surprise washed over her before she punched the answer button. “Hi, Abe,” she said, trying to sound cool and collected when she was wondering what judgment Abe would make about her answering Cole’s phone. “It’s Holly. Cole’s cooking and—”

“Wait a minute,” Abe said, his tone clipped. “Did you say that my brother—as in Cole Wiley—is cooking? What the hell are you doing to him, Holly?”

He sounded so serious, Holly faltered, unsure what to say. Before she could formulate a response, Cole cursed, and Holly’s gaze jerked in his direction. He was holding his hand where he’d burned it, his jaw clenched in obvious pain.

“Oh crap,” she said, followed by, “Hold on,” into the phone, as she jumped off the bar stool to go to Cole’s aid. Then to Cole, “Are you okay? How bad is it?”

“I’ll live,” he grumbled, turning on the water and shoving his hand under. “Burns like a bitch, though.”

Holly flipped the heat off the bacon, the phone still at her ear. “Abe?”

“I’m here,” he said. “And that’s what I was trying to tell you. Cole’s a menace in the kitchen,” he added, obviously overhearing the entire mess. “A downright danger. Always has been. Get him the hell out of there before he burns it down.”

Holly’s chest filled with barely contained laughter because it appeared so true, but now wasn’t the time to jest with Cole. Still, it was quite comical that with the steely tough exterior and firm resolve Cole radiated, a kitchen skillet had him grumbling in pain.

“I will,” she vowed to Abe. “I’ll get right on that.”

Cole surveyed his wound as she watched and, with a grimace, he shoved his hand back under the water. “Tell Abe the meeting is pushed back to four o’clock.”

She started to repeat the message. “Cole says—”

“I’ll be there,” Abe said. “But do your womanly, kiss the-wound-and-make-it-better thing and have him call me back. We’ve got trouble with that guy who Jacob scrabbled with at the bar. He came up to us at a gas station last night and tried to start something. I held Jacob back, but I was damned tempted to pop the guy myself.”

Holly cast Cole a concerned look. “Yes, okay. I’ll make sure.” She ended the call and set the phone aside.

“Once I sign the final papers on the bed-and-breakfast, I want you to come see the place,” Cole said as Holly grabbed a towel and filled it with ice.

It pleased Holly that Cole wanted her to see the bed-and-breakfast. “I’d love that.” She stepped to his side at the sink and turned off the water. “Wrap this around your hand and call Abe back. You’re going to want to talk to him.”

He ignored the ice and studied her. “What’s that look you’re giving me? What’s up?”

She sighed. “That guy who Jacob tussled with at The Tavern tried to pick a fight with Abe and Jacob last night at some gas station.”

“That son of a bitch,” he said, ignoring the towel, the burn apparently forgotten as he reached for the phone. He dialed Abe and then glanced at the towel. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

She tried to hand him the towel again, but Abe answered and Cole launched into conversation, towel forgotten again as he paced and talked. Holly sighed and set the towel down, shoving a hand through her sleep-rumpled hair, before digging in to try and save breakfast. By the time Cole hung up the phone, she’d concluded it was a hopeless effort. The eggs were watery and the bacon burned and greasy.