I wake up alone in Cole’s bed. My mouth is dry and I have to pee. Clouds cover the sky, making it impossible to tell what time it is. I’m still tired, so it has to be early. Or maybe I drank more than I thought and the hangover is pulling me back to sleep.

Holding the sheets over my breasts, I sit up and look around. Cole’s house is huge. And beautiful. Impressively decorated. My entire apartment back home could fit in the master bedroom alone. I admire the handcrafted woodwork and the beautiful fireplace across from me for a minute and then get up to use the bathroom.

Clothes have been laid out for me. They’re Cole’s and are much too big, but will do. I pull a white t-shirt over my head and grab the boxers and socks, hurrying to the bathroom to pee and rinse my mouth out with water.

Dressed and looking as presentable as I’m gonna be, I head to the hall and stop at the balcony. I peer over, looking down into the foyer and listen. The house is quiet. Or at least this part of it is. It’s so big it would be easy to miss someone. I start to go back to Cole’s room to wait, assuming he’ll come back to check on me at some point when I notice another staircase at the end of the hall. It’s small and narrow, and I’m immediately intrigued.

I pause at the top of the servants’ staircase and hear the distinct sound of dishes clanking together. Slowly, I pad down the stairs that emerge into the kitchen.

“Morning,” I say when I see Cole sitting at the breakfast table. He’s drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. A box of fresh donuts sits in front of him, and my stomach growls at the sight. I’m starving.

Cole sets the paper down and looks up. Our eyes meet and it’s like he’s trying not to smile. “Morning.” He drops his gaze and picks up his coffee.

Is that regret I’m hearing? I swallow hard and want to go back up the stairs.

“Are you hungry?” he asks after a few seconds of awkward silence pass by.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Help yourself. And there is coffee in the pot,” he says. I move across the kitchen, finding a white mug on the counter next to a full coffeepot. “There’s creamer in the fridge.”

“I like my coffee black.” I fill up the mug and go to the table, trying to decide where to sit. I take a spot next to Cole, feeling like I’m slipping back into a bad habit. He doesn’t move. Doesn’t give me a kiss. Doesn’t tell me last night was wild and crazy and he can’t wait to do it again. Doesn’t even look up from the fucking paper.

Can I take a donut and run?

“Here.” Cole slides a napkin in front of me.

“Thanks.” I grab a pink sprinkle-covered donut and eat the whole thing without a word being said between us. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I thought there was something there. If nothing else, the sex was a-fucking-mazing. Doesn’t he at least want to do that again?

As if he can read my mind, Cole turns to me. “Ana,” he starts. “We should talk.”

Well, shit. Those are words you never want to hear after a night filled with lust-driven, passionate sex.

“I, uh, finished inside you,” he mumbles, almost looking embarrassed. It’s fucking adorable coming from him.

“I’m on the pill.”

“Good.” He lets out a breath. “What happened last night…we, uh, we shouldn’t have done that. I’m your editor. It’s not professional to sleep with an author I’m working with on a project.”

I set the empty mug of coffee down and take a breath, trying to digest his words. We crossed a line, one I didn’t even think about, but I suppose it makes sense. Hell, maybe it’s against company policy to mess around with an author.

I angle my body toward Cole. His short brown hair is rumpled from sex, and I can see the outline of his muscles through the thin blue shirt he has on. Day-old stubble covers his strong jaw and his brown eyes are set.

Serious.

Deep.

And still a little sad.

Already, I miss the way he looked at me last night when he was on top of me, owning my body. He was commanding. Fierce. Passionate. Fuck, I want to feel his big cock between my legs again.

“Right,” I force myself to say. “Not professional at all.”

“We can’t do it again.”

I nod. “Even though I want to.”

His eyes meet mine. Lips part. He inches his hand forward until his fingers touch mine. “Fuck it,” he says and grabs me, pulling me to him. My lips crash against his and it’s like I cannot kiss him fast enough. Hard enough.

He sits back in the chair, and I straddle his lap. His cock begins to harden, and I find it so fucking sexy to feel it grow, knowing I’m the one turning him on. We spend a moment kissing and groping, and then Cole takes off the boxers I’m wearing.

Everything is moving so fast as we cave to the desperation. I yank his pants down to his ankles and move onto him again, slowly lowering myself as he enters me. I grip the back of the chair and bury my face into Cole’s neck as we fuck.

Hard.

Fast.

Desperate to feel.

Cole holds me tight and stands, moving us onto the floor. He lifts one of my legs up and looks down, meeting my eyes as he thrusts in and out. He brings his other arm around and rubs my clit, making me come in just a minute. He finishes right after I do.

So much for not doing that again.

Cole lets out a deep breath and pushes my hair out of my face. “I can’t seem to say no to you,” he pants.

“I’m glad.”

He gets up, pulls his pants back on and gets me a towel to clean myself up with. We sit at the table again, though this time the dynamic changed. I reach for another donut, trying to think of something to say. Should I promise not to tell anyone we hooked up? Ask what would happen if word got out we were fucking? Could he get fired? Would my books not get published? I make a mental note to Google search the rules on editors dating authors.

“Your house is amazing,” I say to break the silence.

“Thanks. It’s been in my family for a long time.”

“Wow. That makes it even cooler. Were they the original owners?”

“No. My great-grandparents bought it from a doctor who was caught performing experimental surgeries on homeless people.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Seriously?”

“I wish I was joking. The doctor was horror-movie level deranged and tried putting different parts on different people. And a few animals, if the reports are completely accurate. They got a hell of a deal on it. The bill of sale is hanging up in my office and there is a bloodstain on the cement in the basement that won’t come out no matter what anyone has tried.”

“Oh my God.”

Cole laughs. “It’s a story I don’t tell too many people.”

“I can’t decide if I should admit I think it’s cool and totally want to go downstairs and look at the stain or not. Not cool that the poor homeless were maimed or anything.”

“The history is cool,” he agrees. “I have the newspaper clipping from 1932 about the doctor. I can get it, if you want to see it. Then I can show you the blood. If you’re interested. You don’t have to see it.”

I smile. “I have a bit of a twisted mind. The sooner you learn that, the better.”

* * *

The curtains are drawn in the hotel room, blocking out the muted sunlight that’s trying to filter in. I’m in bed, tossing and turning, trying to get some sleep. I can’t stop thinking about last night. And this morning. And the time right before Cole took me back to the hotel. Cole said he’d call me later but didn’t kiss me goodbye.

Obviously he’s into me, and I’m starting to think sex is all he wants. Which might not be a bad thing, considering I won’t be in New York forever and I’m still not sure I want another go at a relationship yet. Or ever.

I get up, open my computer only to close it, debate on utilizing the hotel’s fancy gym but end up ordering room service instead. I eat until I hate myself and then grab my phone.

“Hey, lady,” Jess answers. “How’s New York life?”

“I slept with Cole,” I blurt.

Jess is silent for a moment. “What?”

“I slept with my editor, Cole. Three times.”

“Well, we know for sure he’s not gay now. How was it? I always wonder if pretty men are good in bed or just terribly lazy since they know they’ll get it anyway. Like they just lie there and make you do all the work.”

“That’s what you have to say about this?”

Jess laughs. “What do you want me to say?”

“That it’s a bad idea. He’s my editor and is kind of like my boss in a sense.”

“Isn’t it more like you’re his boss? He works for you, right?”

“I guess, because I can reject his changes if I don’t like them. But that’s not the point. I think I messed up.”

“How?”

“I…I don’t know. I know I’m not ready to date and I think he only wants sex because he didn’t kiss me or anything when I left and the sex was spontaneous, well except after he showed me the murder-blood in the basement. That happened slower but still felt so…so desperate and I’m so confused and I don’t know what to do.”

“Ana,” she says slowly. “Calm down. Having no-strings sex with a very attractive man who lives in a different state can be a good thing. You’re not ready to date, but I’ve been telling you for a while you should get back out there and have some fun.”

I take a deep breath. “Right. No strings. No commitments, no worries he’s going to keep a log of my calorie intake because he thinks I’m getting fat.”

“Ana. Stop. Don’t compare like that. Cole seems like a good guy.”

“How do you know?”

“Okay, I don’t. But he has a respectable job—”

“That doesn’t mean anything.”

She sighs. “Stop being logical. I want you to have fun. Enjoy your little vacation. Don’t let yesterday’s storm ruin today’s sun.”

“You’re right. And I’ll be home soon anyway. Hopefully I can have fun with Cole once more.”

“Right. And what the hell is the murder-blood in the basement?”

I laugh. “I wasn’t sure if you caught that. Long story.”

“You can’t tell me there is murder-blood in the basement and it’s a long story and leave it at that.” Laughing again, I tell her the story about the crazy doctor. “Have you talked to your mom today?” Jess asks.

“No. I’ll call her later,” I say. And then it hits me that’s a weird thing for Jess to ask. “Why?”

She hesitates. “Just wondering. She misses you.”

“Jessica.”

It only takes saying her full name once to get her to fess up. “Someone hit her mailbox again. But it’s probably high school kids. They’re bored. After Johnny Shields got arrested for tipping Mr. Jackson’s cows, there’s even less to do in this super exciting town.”

My hands shake. First the mailbox. Then it’ll be the doors. Then my mom. No. Don’t think like that. I’m so grateful I insisted on paying for the security system. It was the first big purchase I made after getting my advance money. So fun, I know.

“Were the other mailboxes on the street hit? If it were bored teenagers, they’d hit them all.”

“Uh, that I’m not sure of. I’m really not, promise.”

I let out a breath, pacing around the room. I go to the door, double-check the locks and peer out the peephole, not really aware of what I’m doing. It’s become a habit to always look over my shoulder.

“I hate that town,” I mutter.

“Don’t let him ruin Salt Creek. It’s not the town’s fault he’s here.”

“You’re right. I’ll call my mom now…and my sister. Can you keep an eye on them?”

“Of course. Everything is going to be okay. Your mom has been getting pretty chummy with Sheriff Mason, after all.”

Jess knows just how to ease my nerves. “That is true. As much as I don’t want to think about my mom having overnight guests, he’s as good as any.”

“Deep breath, Ana. We look out for each other here, you know that. Enjoy New York. And please, for my sake, fuck your editor again.”

“I think I can do that. For you. Love you, Jess.” I hang up and sit on the edge of my bed. My hands are shaking and I feel guilty, though I know it’s not my fault. I crawl under the covers again and try to relax. It’s a moot point and I should have known laying down doing nothing was a terrible idea. My mind tends to run away from me and all sorts of fun thoughts run through my brain. And by fun, I mean horrifying.

My phone rings again and my heart skips a beat. I close my eyes and let out a breath when I see that it’s Lexi calling me. How long am I going to be like this? It’s been over a year and he’s still ruining my life.

“Hello?” I sit up, bouncing my leg up and down.

“Hi,” a little voice comes from the other end.

“Oh, uh, hey there.”

“My birthday is tomorrow.”

I can’t help but smile. “Oh wow. Well, happy birthday. Is your mom around?”

“Yeah, she’s changing Harper’s diaper. She had a poop-mergency.”

“Sounds intense.”

“It was. And stinky.”

I laugh and my nerves start to settle. Lexi has young children, and I feel bad for not being able to recall their names. “I bet you’re glad you don’t have to change her diaper.”

“Yeah. Sometimes I help.”

“I’m sure your mom appreciates that. What are you doing for your birthday tomorrow?”

“We’re having a party! It’s princess themed and everyone is wearing costumes. Even Dad and Uncle Cole.”

A weird flutter hits me right in the chest at the mention of Cole’s name. “Are they dressing up like princesses? Or princes?”

The little girl laughs. “Dad says he’s going to be the king and Uncle Cole is going to be the joker. But I say he can be a king too.”

Before I can respond, Lexi comes in the room. Her voice echoes in the background. “Who are you talking to, Paige?”

“Some lady,” Paige replies.

“Did you call someone? Paige!” Rustling comes through the phone. “I’m so sorry, Diana,” Lexi tells me.

“It’s okay.” And really it is. That minute-long conversation was the perfect distraction. “She was telling me all about her princess birthday party.”

“She’s so excited for it. While I have you on the line I might as well ask how things are going with Cole.”

Cole? Does she know we hooked up? Maybe he’s really close with his brother and told him and he told Lexi and now she’s—oh, right. She’s talking about edits and work.

“So far so good,” I tell her. “I think we got everything worked out.” I close my eyes and get a flash of his naked body on top of mine. My core tingles at the thought of his big cock pushing in and out.

“Great. Honestly, I felt just sick over this. I love your series so much.”

“Thank you, Lexi. For taking a chance on it I mean.” Cole might be my editor now, but this whole publishing deal came about because of Lexi.

“It’s not a chance. It’s a done deal. This book is going to be a hit. How much longer are you going to be in New York? I still want to have lunch or something if you want to.”

“I’d love to! I need to meet you and give you an awkward hug to fully express how grateful I am. And I’m not really sure. I think I’ll fly home Tuesday. I’m meeting with the marketing people Monday. What about tomorrow—oh you have the birthday party. Never mind.”

“And of course I won’t be in the office Monday. Dammit. Another time. Hopefully you’ll be back in New York soon.”

Coming back to New York means I’ll have left the city.

And Cole.

“I’m sure I will be.”