Chapter Eight
Maddie stood in her bedroom, hands in hair and heart racing. What had she been thinking, letting Cole talk her into coming back here to help pick out what she should wear the next time she hit the Quarter Clean-It? That place was a hole in the wall where people went to do their laundry, not some swanky martini bar!
Thank goodness her apartment was mostly clean. Still, him coming over had her feeling seriously unsettled, just like when he’d first stepped foot in her kitchen. Apparently, nowhere in this town was sacred anymore.
Then again, after a few days, she’d more or less gotten over that. Sure, she thought of him often when he wasn’t there, but only because she was bored. And maybe a little lonely. Cole seemed to cure all of that.
Funny, she’d been looking for kitchen help and found herself a new friend. With her limited supply, any additions were well worth holding on to. A fresh wave of guilt pummeled her at the thought of how crappy she’d been to him last night. Stupid fragile ego of hers. If he could get her set up with Tyson, maybe her introverted self would finally develop a spine in social settings.
“You gonna take all day in there or what?”
Or maybe not.
Maddie looked to the door and hollered back, “Give me a minute, will ya?”
Grumbling additional four letter words under her breath, she stalked to her closet and flicked through clothes on hangers. Black shirt. Black skirt. Black pants. Another black shirt.
Tell me you have something other than black in your wardrobe, Maddie. She’d thrown him a dark look at that greasy dump called EAT—PUKE was more like it—for that comment, but darn it if he hadn’t been too close to correct. With a growl she snatched a charcoal gray V-neck sweater from the rack and headed for the living room.
“How about this?”
He looked up from his place on the barstool beside Fido and flashed her a smile. Darn it, if that wasn’t maybe the best sight she’d seen in this place. The guy looked adorable when he smiled like that. Why on earth he wasn’t dating was beyond her. Or maybe he was, and he’d just kept very quiet about it? Probably that.
His gaze roved over the sweater, then shifted to hers. “I thought you said you were going to prove you had something other than black back there?”
“What are you talking about? This is charcoal gray, buddy. Hardly black.”
He rolled his eyes. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Madds, I’m a guy. And to a guy, black, gray, very dark blue—they’re all pretty much the same.”
Oh, I’ve noticed, she thought, working to keep her face neutral and eyes on his. In fact, I’m doing my darnedest not to think about that too much right now. Not a line I should cross, seeing as you’re my relationship coach and all…
“So what you’re saying is guys expect girls to strut around like princesses in pinks and yellows?”
“No, what I’m saying is this: too much black makes you blend in with the scenery. You want to stand out, look approachable. And a bit less…goth.”
“Goth?”
He grinned. She groaned and headed back to her room.
“Surely you have something else in this magic closet of yours that’s got a little more color in it.”
Oh no.
She spun to close the door behind her but it was too late—Cole was already across the threshold. But whatever mortification and discomfort she felt seemed to have no effect on him. He strode past her, face forward and gaze intent on the closet.
“Good thing I cleaned up this morning,” she said.
Only then did he glance back and take a quick look around, confusion clear on his face. “Why’s that?”
“Never mind.”
Men. Totally clueless. It was no wonder she wasn’t in a relationship. Her tolerance for obliviousness was about nil.
Cole assessed her clothing options, barely looking at one item before flipping to the next. He paused at a lavender scoop neck top with three-quarter sleeves. “See? Here, something like this.”
“Um, no.”
“Why not?”
“Because a neckline like that is not what a girl like me”—Maddie motioned toward her chest—“can wear if she’s going to be repeatedly bending over a washing machine. I’ll scare the other patrons.”
“Or draw their attention.” He waggled his brows.
She looked toward her bedroom window and squinted out at nothing. Cole just didn’t understand. Some bodies were made for flaunting. Hers wasn’t one of them. “That’s not the kind of attention I want. Trust me.”
“If you say so.”
They went back and forth for several minutes like this, him throwing out ideas and her shooting them down. Clearly, he didn’t understand body mechanics for the well-endowed. Or the thicker-than-average. Then again, why would he? The guy didn’t have a scrap of excess on him. With a sigh, Maddie took a seat on the edge of her bed.
“Look, I appreciate your help, but maybe I’m not cut out for all of this. Not without a serious makeover and expensive shopping trips. Who has time for that?”
“Wait. This.” Cole slipped a hanger from the rack and turned to show her his latest find. A teal camisole with lace-fringed top came into view. “You could wear it under the cardigan you have on.”
She threw him a skeptical look. The cami was a bit on the clingy side, and Maddie preferred not to draw attention to her shape any more than necessary. Usually, she wore that item under a V-neck sweater, to help hold the girls in place and cover up what the “v” didn’t.
“Oh, come on now, give it a chance. See? Not too gapey.” He tugged at the neckline. “And the cardigan will hang loose over it. You’ll have comfort with a pop of color. It’s the best of both worlds.”
“A pop of color?” She laughed. “Oh my gosh, you sound like the guys on HGTV.”
A scarlet flush crept into his cheeks. “Yeah, well, maybe I’ve had to endure listening to those shows a time or two. Hard not to pick up a few things along the way.”
Endured listening? There was a lot of Cole she didn’t know about. Heck, she hardly knew anything about him, other than that he had an extremely high tolerance of her snarky ways. He hadn’t bugged her to spill about her past, and she’d refrained from prying into his. Because if he was anything like her, he kept quiet about his past because it was best left there—in the past.
For now, she’d enjoy his company and try to be a good recipient of his coaching. If he could help her win over Tyson, maybe “bored” and “lonely” would gradually fall away from her routine-ruled life. She offered him a smile, as it was all she had to give.
“Then a pop of color it is.”
…
Cole set his acoustic on its stand in the corner of his room, hating to end his practice session but knowing it was nearly time to head to the Checkerberry for his shift. A new song had been teasing his thoughts all day, something sweet with a bit of upbeat twang. Seems you could take a man out of Texas, but couldn’t take the Texas out of a man…
“What’d you decide?”
Cole looked up, the three bars of music he’d been mulling over evaporating. “Sorry?”
“About the lease,” his grandfather asked.
“Oh.” He grabbed a jacket off the back of his room’s folding chair and shoved one arm in. So much for all that work he’d done to keep the topic off his mind. Heck, he’d gotten so desperate for a distraction he’d sketched a silly scarecrow for Maddie, planned to leave it on her windshield when he walked out before her tonight. “I didn’t.”
“How long will they hold it for you?”
“Doesn’t matter, Grandpa. I can’t get that lease, not without opening my closet to show the whole town just how many skeletons are hiding in there.”
He tried to ease past on his way to the door, but old Tom laid a hand upon his shoulder. “You can’t spend the rest of your life avoiding all it has to offer just because of a few bad choices made in the past.”
“Her bad choices, not mine.”
Tom shrugged.
Cole stepped back. “Don’t you get it? When news hits that you’re harboring a convicted felon, life’s just going to get messier for you, too. It could hurt your business, Grandpa. I won’t do that to you.”
“Rumors only hurt if you let them. Me, I’m too old to let gossip bother me. You don’t like my store? Fine, drive twenty miles and find yourself another one.”
Cole shook his head. Clearly, his grandfather didn’t understand just how dark a shadow they’d both fall beneath if rumors of convictions and armed robbery made their way to Mount Pleasant. He’d spent all year making sure that didn’t happen. Why risk it now?
“I know that look in your eyes, son. It’s the same one your father used to give me when he was growing up. You may think I don’t know what you’re going through, but I do. More than you know.
“I didn’t bring you up here to spend your life hiding away above my shop—I brought you up here to make a new life for yourself. Washing dishes and playing your guitar for Miss Ruby on Sundays is fine and dandy, but it’s not how a man makes a good living. You’re a man now, Cole. It’s time to think like one. Make a name for yourself, start anew.”
He felt his resolve begin to foolishly waver. Why did his grandfather always have to make so much sense? The man had never given him bad advice, so if there was anyone he could trust, it’d be him.
“But what if it fails? The shop, I mean. What if my reputation keeps it from even getting off the ground?”
Tom smiled. “Then you move on to the next idea, knowing you gave it your all. Because if I co-sign on this lease, young man, that’s a promise you will make me—that you’ll give it your all.”
Cole looked around his grandfather’s place, taking comfort in its warmth and familiarity. The old man didn’t need much, didn’t have much, but he always seemed to be content. What would it be like, to feel that way? To know exactly who you were and where you stood among your peers?
His gaze zeroed in on the dust motes, drifting lazily in a ray of light from the afternoon’s setting sun. To subject himself to a background check would be like cutting a giant hole in his safety net of secrecy. Then again, it’d only be the real estate company who’d be the ones to see anything, right? And with his grandfather’s name as primary contact, he might well be looked at as an afterthought.
“You sure about this? About risking your reputation on me?”
Old Tom met his wary gaze with a confident one of his own. “As sure as I was of bringing you here to begin with. You deserve more, Cole. Always did. I’ll do whatever I can to help make that happen. Besides, it’s a six-month lease. A relatively small risk with potentially big rewards, if you ask me.”
He wrapped his grandfather in a gentle embrace, wishing he felt half as sure about the leap of faith they were about to make as the old man did. “Thanks, Grandpa.”
“You’re welcome, son.” He patted Cole’s back. “Now come on. You’ve got an application to fill out before you head to the inn.”
“Application?” Cole glanced to his grandfather’s cuckoo clock. “Thinking that’s gonna have to wait until after my shift. Too many fields to fill out.”
“Not if someone’s already filled most of them in.”
Cole felt his jaw drop. “You did? But how’d you know I’d say yes?”
Grinning, his grandfather turned for the door with a shrug. “Call it Granville intuition.”