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Fault Lines by Rebecca Shea (19)

Eighteen

"Hey, Mama," I announce quietly as I open her bedroom door. It's just after nine o'clock in the evening and she's tucked into bed, watching television.

"Frances," she whispers, reaching her arms out for me. I sidle up to her on the edge of her bed and lean in, allowing her to hug me. "You’re back?" She sounds surprised. Her speech is noticeably better than it was a month ago, but still a bit slurred.

"I am." I smile at her and tuck a stray piece of hair behind her ear. "I think I'm going to stay a while if that's okay with you."

"Oh, Frances." She smiles crookedly at me and rubs my hand excitedly. "Does this have anything to do with Cole?" She winces a bit when she says his name and I'm not sure if it's because of her asking about Cole or if she's in some pain.

I shrug. "He's part of the reason, but not the only reason."

"Faith filled me in a little bit," she sighs. "Regardless of what happens with you two, I think you both need to resolve the past. It's the only way you can build a future." She gives me a knowing look, and I shake my head. She always hits me with honesty and I love her for it.

"Mama, sometimes there are things that need to stay in the past "

She cuts me off by shaking her head, but I don't want to argue with her. I lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Rest. We'll talk more tomorrow."

She closes her eyes and struggles to find the words she wants to say. Taking a deep breath, she finds them. "I'm so glad you're back, Frances."

"Me, too, Mama." I never thought I'd say that about being back in Crescent Ridge, but for the first time in my adulthood, it actually feels good to be home.


My phone pings with an incoming text message as I'm brushing my teeth and freshening up. I swipe the screen, hopeful it's from Cole telling me he's home. Instead, I find a message from Ted.


This isn't over. I will get you back.


He's delusional. Rolling my eyes, I delete the message and close the screen. Ted couldn't give a shit about getting me back. He hates to lose and that's what this is about. We didn't end on his terms; we ended on mine and he can't handle that. He expected me to forgive his indiscretion and continue on as if he didn't cheat and lie to me. As shocked as I was to find out the truth, it was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Peeking out the front window, I see Cole's Jeep in the driveway. I check on Mama once more before heading across the street. My heart races as it did all those years ago when I'd sneak over late at night to see Cole. I raise my hand to knock on the front door just as he opens it, startling me.

"There you are," he says with a big smile, one that shows the dimple in his left cheek. Butterflies dance in my stomach as I take in the sight of him, all six-foot-three of lean muscle. He changed from jeans and a thermal shirt into a pair of joggers and a gray t-shirt that hugs every rippling muscle on his arms and torso. His dark hair is damp from a shower and I can smell his woodsy body wash. I want to bury my face in his neck and drink in the scent of him.

"Do you want anything to drink?" he asks, closing the door behind us.

"Not right now, thanks."

"Are you sure? Wine? Beer?" He grins at me.

"Maybe later," I respond and he reaches for my hand, taking it in his.

"Let's go sit outside. I've got a fire going in the fire pit." He motions toward the set of French doors that lead out to the backyard. When we step through the doors, I'm taken aback by how beautiful this space is. When we were teenagers, this backyard was nothing but dirt with trees along the fence line.

Now those trees are huge and beautiful, draping a large canopy over the entire property. The backyard is now transformed from a dirt lot to a comfortable outdoor living space. A huge wood deck has been added that has built in seats along the perimeter and holds a large table and chairs. Just off the wood deck is another sitting area made from pavers that surrounds a fire pit. A huge pergola covers the entire outdoor space and it's covered in twinkling white lights.

Large plush chairs surround the fire pit that flickers in the dark and Cole leads us over to them.

"Cole, this is amazing!" I remark as I look around and take a seat in one of the oversized plush chairs.

"It's come a long way," he says with a smile, taking a seat in the chair next to me. "I had a vision of what I wanted this space to look like, and after Pops died I took some time away from the shop and just worked on the house. It was therapeutic."

His dad. My stomach drops. "I'm sorry to hear about your dad. I plan to visit the cemetery to pay my respects."

Cole nods his head and squeezes my hand, staring at the flames that flicker from the gas fire pit.

"He always loved you," Cole remarks.

"And I loved him. He was always a voice of reason and a great man. He helped my mom so much, and I'll always be appreciative of everything he did for us."

The mood is somber for a moment until Cole slaps his hand on his knee, as if he’s done being sad. "So Saturday night is the soft opening of The Fault Line Bar and Grill." He grins at me. "Then we open for business on Sunday. Would you do me the honor of being my guest?" He reaches out and places his hand over mine as it sits on the arm of the oversized wicker patio chair.

"I'd love to! I still can't believe you named that place The Fault Line." I chuckle and he laughs in response.

"Frankie," he says my name intimately. "Stay with me tonight. I need you with me." He squeezes my hand a little tighter.

I swallow hard, already feeling myself caving. I'll never say no to him. I don't have the capacity within me to say no to this man, but I also don't want to rush things with us.

"My mom, I should probably go home," I whisper.

He shakes his head. "Melinda will occasionally help during the nights when and if needed. I extended her contract."

I tilt my head to the side and narrow my eyes slightly at him. "You shouldn't be making decisions on behalf of my mom. Faith and I are capable of doing that."

He stubbornly shakes his head as I speak. "I'm not. All the medical decisions are left to you and Faith. Faith was assigned her medical power of attorney. I'm just paying Melinda and Judy to help out—to give you and Faith a breather now and then. Plus, selfishly that means you'll have more free time for me." He smirks at me, a familiar, boyish cockiness in his eyes.

"Faith and I will be just fine, Cole." I'm not upset, but I also don't want him making decisions on behalf of Faith, my mom, and me.

"Goddammit, Frankie. Let me help. Please. Let me do this." He's not angry, but his tone is firm. "It's the one thing I can do to help."

I stare at him for a moment and see the look of helplessness on his face. I nod in understanding and agree that this is how he can help and I should be grateful.

"So stay with me," he pleads again.

My thoughts instantly go back to the hotel in Los Angeles and our time reconnecting with each other. The way he took his time touching me—the way his lips felt on my body. I inhale sharply as my body answers for me. "Okay."

He wastes no time jumping up and shutting off the gas to the fire pit. With an extended hand, he reaches out and takes mine, gently pulling me up from the chair and into his arms. There is a hunger in his eyes as he buries his face in my hair, wrapping his arms around me, and just holds me. We sway lightly under the twinkling lights and everything inside me calms. Every fear, every reservation, every questioning thought I had about coming back here dissipates in his arms.

"Welcome home," he says, pressing a kiss to my temple. And by home, I'm not sure if he means Crescent Ridge or him, but Cole was always home to me—and it feels so damn good to be back.

Cole holds my hand, leading me to his bedroom, and my stomach twists in anticipation of being with him again. I'll never tire of his touch—of him. I've barely crossed the threshold into the room when Cole spins around and presses me firmly against the wall. His lips capturing mine, hungry and needy. I can feel every muscle in his chest and abs through his thin t-shirt. But it's his erection pressing against me that causes me to gasp.

His hands reach for the hem of my shirt and my arms instinctively rise as he lifts it up and over my head. One of his hands palms my breast while the other works the button of my jeans. His thick erection shifts, pressing against my center, and I moan as I feel him grow harder.

I reach down, pushing his jogging pants and boxer briefs down as far as I can while he manages to remove my bra simultaneously. He bends forward, pulling a nipple into his mouth, and I gasp as he bites gently, causing a shiver to run down my body, stopping at my core.

"Fuck, Frankie," he groans, pulling me away from the wall and walking me backward toward his bed.

As the back of my knees hit the mattress, I drop to the soft carpet, pulling his pants and boxer briefs the rest of the way down. His thick erection hangs heavy and I wrap my hand around it, pulling it into my mouth.

"Fuck," he hisses as his hands tangle in my hair and he holds me in place. He's soft and hard and sweet and salty. Every inch of him is perfection. My tongue swirls around his large head as he tries to hold back from pressing farther in my mouth. "I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that, sweetheart," he murmurs as I suck him further into my mouth. I feel him pressed against the back of my throat and his dick hardens even more.

"Frankie," he warns me. I tighten my lips and pull back, but he manages to pull out of my mouth. His large hands pull me up off the floor and he holds me in place as he leans in and whispers, "As much as I want you to suck me off, I want to bury myself in that sweet pussy of yours and get lost inside of you. Any other time, you can suck my dick all night long."

My eyes widen at his vulgarity because he never spoke to me like this when we were younger, but it also sets me on fire. I shrug out of his grip and wrap my arms around his neck as his hands grip each of my ass cheeks, his fingers digging into the soft, tender flesh.

With one shift, he easily lifts me off the floor and my legs wrap around his waist, pulling him to me. His cock positions itself at my wet, throbbing center and without warning, he presses himself firmly into me.

My head falls back as I let out a guttural moan and he nibbles the base of my neck and the skin around my collarbone. "I plan to make love to you later…but Frankie, right now I need to fuck you."

I don't even have the energy to answer him as he lifts me and I fall onto his thick, hard length. My entire body tingles and shudders with each rise and fall. He licks his bottom lip as he spins, pressing my back against the wall.

He's like a rabid animal, wild and hungry. With each thrust he buries himself deeper into my body, my heart, my soul. My fingers twist the hair at the nape of his neck, and I hold onto him, fighting for every breath as he drives himself into me.

"Cole!" I scream his name as I feel my orgasm building faster than I think it ever has.

"Come on me, Frankie. Let me feel you come on me," he mumbles against my lips.

In that moment, I let go…of the past, and the hurt, and I succumb to Cole Ryan.

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