Ashley cried herself to sleep that night, like she’d done plenty of other times over the past seven months.

This time, however, her tears were rawer. Her body still vibrated from what he’d done to her, and her mind kept filling with what she wanted him to do to her.

Watching her sister and Tom leave for their honeymoon had been the second hardest moment of the day. She was thankful that her parents hadn’t brought Cole up as they drove her to her new home just outside of Golden.

She had watched him leave the reception and fought herself about going after him. She couldn’t do Paris over again. It had taken her weeks to stop looking for him to walk down her stairs. The heartbreak had sunk in when her phone hadn’t rung.

She kept telling herself that she should have pushed him further to get his number.

She woke up the next morning to a grey sky after only three hours of sleep. Her head was dull, and her eyes were still red from her tears.

She lay in bed for a short while, then climbed into a hot shower until her body felt better.

As she stepped out of the steaming shower, she frowned as she smelled bacon cooking. Wrapping her robe around her, she grabbed her cell phone and the baseball bat she kept under her bed.

Tiptoeing down the stairs, she stopped dead in her tracks when she noticed Cole standing at her stove, flipping bacon.

“I probably deserve to be hit over the head with that, but seeing as I cooked, maybe you can forgive me for breaking in?” He turned and smiled at her.

Her eyes narrowed at him. “You son of…”

“Ash, come on, give me another chance.” He held out his hands, then tilted his head slightly. She was a sucker for the look he was giving her. Turning off the gas, he walked over to her. Gently wrapping his fingers around her wrist, he nudged the bat out of her hands and set it down by the fridge before dishing up two plates.

“I like your place,” he said, as he worked.

She’d fallen in love with the old house years ago, when she used to walk by it on her way to the local art supply store. It was a historic home that just needed a lot of elbow grease and love.

She’d bought the fixer upper with the money from her paintings. She was slowly making progress on the place and had hired a few workers to do the bigger things she couldn’t tackle herself. The electric in the kitchen had been first on the list, since sparks had flown from the socket when she’d plugged in her toaster the first morning.

She’d been in the home less than a week, which meant there were still boxes piled in every room. Including the kitchen. Three stories of pure delight. One of the first things she’d done was turn the large loft area on the third floor into her studio. After that, well, she’d pulled things out of boxes as she’d needed them.

She didn’t know where he’d found her dishes, since she hadn’t unpacked them herself yet.

“Make yourself at home,” she said sarcastically.

He set the plates down on the bar area and gave her a smile. “Already did.”

“Why are you here?” she asked, not moving from her spot, even after he motioned for her to sit down.

Instead of answering, he walked over, took her hips, and nudged her forward.

“Eat, then we can talk.” He gently pushed her onto the stool.

“Promise?”

He nodded in reply, and when she felt her stomach growling, she picked up her fork. He sat next to her and for the next few minutes, ate in silence.

“I’ve missed this,” he said once his plate was empty.

“What? Breaking into my home? Scaring me?”

He glanced over at her. “Sitting down, having a meal with you.”

“I would have gladly planned something, had you called.” She pushed her half-empty plate away, then turned towards him.

His smile had fallen away. “Why don’t you go get dressed. I’ll clean up, then we’ll talk.”

Her eyes narrowed at him, running over his face, searching. Seeing he was telling the truth, she left the room.

When she returned, she noticed that he’d not only done the dishes but had emptied a few boxes while he’d been at it.

“I figured you would never get around to this,” he joked. “I remember when your folks moved, it took you almost a year to unpack your room.”

She sat back down on the barstool. He was right, she hated unpacking. “Thanks. I planned on spending today organizing everything.”

He chuckled. “Until an empty canvas calls you.”

The fact that, once again, he was right, slightly irritated her.

“So,” she said, watching him stack her dishes one by one in a cupboard.

“So.” He leaned against the countertop. “I’ve been giving some thought to what I want.”

“And what is it you want?” she asked, when he didn’t continue.

His eyes moved to her and she felt her skin heat. “Change.” He moved slowly towards her. “I liked how things were in Paris.” He stopped directly in front of her.

“What happened?” she asked, feeling a little breathless.

“I’d forgotten… things.” His hands went to her shoulders.

“What kind of things?”

“How much I missed talking to you, being around you. How it felt to trust someone.” He shook his head.

“What have you been doing since you left?” she asked, suddenly needing to know.

“I had some down time.” He sighed heavily. “Then it was back to the same ol’ routine.”

“Which is?” she asked.

“Travel, looking over my shoulder, creating new trust issues.” His eyes scanned the small space of her kitchen, which was lined with boxes.

“Cole, are you wanting things to change?”

“Yes.” It came out as a gust of breath from him.

“Then you have to start by trusting me, again.” She laid a hand on his. Seeing he was feeling a little trapped, she asked out of the blue, “How about a hike?”

---

Cole stood on top of North Table Mountain overlooking Denver and for the first time since he’d left home, felt completely safe.

They were the only people up there and his line of sight went on for miles. He felt his shoulders relax.

When he looked over at Ashley, she was smiling up at him.

“What?” he asked, frowning slightly.

“There you are,” she said, walking slowly towards him. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned up to kiss him. “You’re back.”

He chuckled. “Yes, you found that out yesterday.”

“No.” She shook her head, leaning slightly back so she could look up at him. “You may have been physically present, but”—she tapped his chest, then his head—“you weren’t yourself.”

“Okay, did you hit your head on the way up here?” He glanced back at the steep trail leading to the top.

She laughed. “No. Cole, you’re always so… on guard.” She motioned for him to follow her to a large flat rock so they could sit down and enjoy the view. He followed her and sat. “I suppose it’s hard being a spy.” She glanced over at him.

“I’m not a…” He could tell she was half joking. Taking her hand in his, he glanced around once more to make sure they were alone. “I’m a Criminal Investigator Special Agent.” She rolled her eyes. “I catch thieves.”

She smiled. “I knew it.” She kicked her feet playfully in the dust like she was doing a little dance.

“I’m not a spy,” he reiterated. “I’m a…”

“Person who catches bad thieves,” she supplied dryly.

“Exactly.”

She chuckled. “Okay, so, how did you become a… thief catcher?”

He rolled his eyes at her, then stood up and started pacing in front of her.

“I started out alongside Mason. We went through a kind of boot camp training, but while he just passed his courses, I excelled in everything.” He glanced over at her. “So, I was transferred immediately and began my career.” He sat down next to her.

“As a thief catcher.” She smiled.

“Criminal Investigator Special Agent.” He took her hand. “It’s not like you think. There aren’t fast cars, expensive hotels, fancy suites, or women in every city willing to fall in bed with me.”

“Except Paris,” she added.

His gut twisted. “You weren’t…” Her eyebrows shot up and he smiled. “We have history,” he reminded her.

“Yes.” She looked down at their joined hands. “And it’s because of that I didn’t call the police on you this morning when I found you standing in my kitchen.”

“And here I was thinking it was my cooking skills that stopped you from calling them,” he joked. “You’re predictable.”

“Oh?” she asked, turning towards him.

“Hasn’t anyone ever told you not to hide your spare keys in a fake rock?” She frowned at him. “I can see by your expression, no.”

She stood up suddenly and walked over to the edge of the small cliff. The view of the city was starting to be hindered by afternoon clouds. “Do your folks know?”

“That you still hide your keys in the fake rock I gave you one Christmas?” he joked.

She turned to him, her hands going to her hips as she narrowed her eyes.

He sighed heavily. “They know my job title and that I travel a lot.”

“So, no.” She turned towards him. “We’d better head back, or we’ll be climbing down in the rain.”

His eyes had been turned towards the plains. When he followed her gaze, he realized the entire sky over the hills and mountains had turned pitch black.

He doubted that they’d make it back to her car without getting soaked. He grabbed her hand, and they started off at a quick pace.

Sure enough, halfway down the hillside, the rain started. He held onto her tightly, catching her when she slipped in the mud or stumbled on a rock. By the time they reached the parking lot, they were completely soaked. The insides of his toes squeaked with every step and water gushed out of the air holes on the side of each shoe when he stepped down.

Ashley unlocked the car, laughing as they jumped inside. He shook his hair, and water splattered all over, causing her to laugh even more.

“I guess we should’ve checked the weather report before heading out.” She started the car.

“We were otherwise occupied,” he said, watching her as she pulled out of the now muddy parking lot.

She glanced over at him occasionally as she drove. The rain had doubled in power by the time they reached her house.

He hadn’t been surprised when he’d found out she’d bought the place. It had always been her favorite house in town. He could see the charms of it, even though it needed some work done still.

The three-story home should probably be a historic landmark. It was one of the oldest places in downtown Golden. Currently, the outside was painted a dull grey. At one point, he remembered, it had been painted a vibrant lime green.

The inside had more potential. It had classic twisting staircases, hardwood floors that just needed some TLC, and a large kitchen that a good remodeling would make shine.

Of course, he hadn’t seen any of the other rooms, but he imagined the rest was just as charming.

“So,” he said, as they still sat in the car, waiting for the rain to let up. “You bought this place.” He leaned over and looked at the house through the rain-splattered windshield.

“Yes, isn’t it wonderful? I can’t believe it went on the market right after I returned home.”

“So, you’re done with school then?” he asked, casually.

She glanced at him. “Yes, they can teach me to paint like them or some of the greats, but”—she smiled over at him—“someone once told me I needed to find my own style.”

“Did you?” he asked.

“Yes, thanks to you.” She reached for the door handle. “Shall we?”

He glanced up and noticed the rain had lightened up slightly.

They raced up the back pathway and he bumped into her when she stopped just under the back porch.

Laughing, she turned towards him as his arms wrapped around her hips.

Pure delight and shock raced through him when she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

He nudged her back until her shoulders hit the screen door. Her hips moved against him, causing all the blood to rush to one place.

She was fumbling behind her and it wasn’t until he heard her keys drop onto the deck that he realized she’d been trying to unlock her door.

In a quick swoop, he picked up her keys, then unlocked her door. She fell backwards, reaching for him and dragging him inside with her.

Their lips locked again as he kicked the door shut with his foot. Dumping her keys in a small glass bowl on a stand, he tugged her wet jacket off her shoulders as she pulled his off of him.

Their shoes landed with a wet plop on the cement floor, and then it was a game of tug of war with denim. He helped her remove her jeans, and she laughed as she tried to pull his off his legs while wearing only a wet T-shirt and see-through cream-colored panties.

She shoved his T-shirt over his head, then paused. He glanced down at the new scars on his chest. The last time they’d done this, they hadn’t been there.

“What—” she started.

“Later.” He tried to pull her closer then shrugged. “It was nothing major,” he lied.

She reached up and touched the three spots. “It looks like…”

“Yeah, but it isn’t,” he lied again, reaching for her. He tried to distract her by removing her clothes and kissing her.

After all their wet clothes were discarded, they moved out of the mud room off the back of her house and into her kitchen. From there, he lifted her easily in his arms and marched through her living room towards the stairs.

Maneuvering the narrow staircase was a different matter. It twisted at an angle near the bottom, then turned straight near the top. He reached a small landing where a long window seat sat along the wall, and a small hallway led to three doors.

“The end door.” She nodded. He glanced up as more stairs led to the third floor. “My studio is up there,” she answered, “my bedroom is there.” She motioned to the end door.

He headed towards the door and nudged it open. More boxes filled the hallway and were stacked just inside her doorway, as well as along the wall.

Still, there was a king-sized bed, pillows thrown everywhere on it and the comforter in a bundle.

“Still don’t make your bed I see,” he teased as he tossed her down playfully on top of the mess.

“I was in a hurry this morning.” She smiled up at him. “You know, the whole B and E thing.”

He chuckled, then his smile fell away as his eyes roamed over her.

Her bra and panties were see-through, thanks to the rain. He watched as goosebumps rose over her skin as his eyes moved slowly over her.

“Cole,” she warned him, “you’re killing me.” She reached over to her nightstand and pulled out several condom packages.

He laughed. “So, I guess this means I can stay?”

She smiled up at him, reaching for him. “Only if you promise not to sneak out in the middle of the night.”

His heart raced as he thought of the possibility of getting a call, then he remembered and smiled.

“No, I’m all yours.” He let her pull him down.