Chapter Seven
Cole sat in the hardware store’s office Wednesday morning, staring at the computer screen in disbelief. He’d received an email from Sheridan Realty shortly after eight a.m., instructing him to fill out their standard online application in order to complete his lease request. Eager to knock that out, he had run downstairs and dug right in.
As the email had promised, it was a simple enough form. Address, phone number, emergency contacts, prior convictions or felonies…
Wait, what?
Cole re-read item number seven, then shoved back from the machine with a growl. Why? Why did it matter what his criminal record was? All he wanted to do was lease a storefront, bring some culture to downtown Mount Pleasant. Did it really matter that he’d seen the inside of a prison cell for far longer than he should have?
He bent to rest both elbows on his knees, fighting the urge to vomit. Or throw something. Maybe a little of both.
All those years he’d spent trying to look after his mom, to keep her off the streets and out of harm’s way. And how did she repay him? By falling off the wagon that last time, and falling hard. His failed rescue attempt had been warped into charges of armed robbery, and off to jail he’d gone. With no money for a lawyer, and then appointed what had to be the greenest public defender in all of Texas, jail is right where he stayed. Definitely not how he’d envisioned his eighteenth birthday going, or the following three birthdays after that. And though he’d served the time he’d been wrongfully mandated to do, and not once violated the three-years’ probation that followed, here he was facing punishment yet again. It just wasn’t fair.
“Problems, son?”
Cole turned to find his grandfather at the office door, steaming coffee mug in hand. He shook his head and pointed to the computer screen.
“I was a fool to think I’d ever have a chance at normal. Doesn’t matter where I go, the past just keeps on following me. All thanks to my dear old ma.”
His grandfather’s gaze slid to the screen. He pulled a pair of bifocals from his front shirt pocket, slipped them onto his nose as he drew closer, then bent to read over Cole’s shoulder.
“Ah. I should have known that’d be part of their application. That question’s on just about everything nowadays.” He studied the screen a moment longer, then stepped back to take a drink from his coffee. “How much did you say rent was each month?”
“Don’t.” Cole clicked off the web application and rose from the chair. “You’ve bailed me out more than enough as it is.”
“Me signing the lease for you wouldn’t be bailing you out, it’d be helping you finally get your feet on the ground. You say you’d earn well enough to cover the cost, correct?”
“I would, if I had a place to offer lessons. Maybe I should talk to Brent, see if he can help me build a shack to set up on the outskirts of town. Far away from anybody who cares whether or not some dumb kid from Texas has a rap sheet.”
Old Tom chuckled. “Not sure that place exists, son. Not in these parts, anyway. Maybe it’s time to stop hiding from your past. Wrong or not, it’s a part of who you are. Eventually word is going to get out. And then what will you do? Pack up and leave town?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just work doubly hard to make sure no one ever has reason to go looking for my past.”
A throat cleared nearby. Both men spun to find Maddie standing just outside the office door. What on earth was she doing here?
Oh God. She’s gonna fire me. He looked to the ceiling. Could this day get any worse?
The moment that thought entered his mind, Cole wished it hadn’t. Because as she stood there, looking about as uncomfortable as a minister in a whorehouse, a bigger worry took hold of his thoughts.
Just how much had she heard?
…
Maddie stood peering into the office at Granville Supplies, feeling like an unwanted intruder on a private family moment. Cole rose from the room’s lone chair, looking like anything but a member of the hardware store staff in his usual bad boy attire of faded denim, black boots, and T-shirt combo. His grandfather, on the other hand, had on worn khakis and a button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Even so, the resemblance between them, she realized for the first time, was striking. Especially with them both standing there, cross-armed with brows furrowed. Judging from the looks on their faces, whatever discussion they’d been having wasn’t anything light and fluffy. Heck, judging from the daggers Cole’s gaze had aimed at her, she half wondered if they’d been talking about her deplorable behavior last night.
She nearly turned tail and ran.
But her conscience kept her rooted in place. She owed him an apology, darn it, no matter how angry he was with her right now. And rightfully so. The poor guy tries to make good on his word to help hook her up and what does she do? Give him the cold shoulder and then bark at his attempts at a sincere apology, no less.
“Why, I’ve a chef in my shop, and during the breakfast rush, no less.” Tom Granville’s frown smoothed into a broad smile. “Landlord failing you again, sweetie?”
She grinned. Only someone as old and genuinely kind as Mr. Granville could get away with calling a woman sweetie in this day and age.
“Good morning, Mr. Granville. Actually, I was hoping to talk to Cole before his shift tonight.” Her gaze flashed briefly to his. “If he wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh? My boy giving you trouble, Miss Maddie?”
“Trouble?” She shook her head. “No. Actually, I came to—”
“Deliver something.” Cole’s voice was unusually icy. “Grandpa, could you excuse us for a moment?”
Old Tom looked to him in surprise, then shook his head with a chuckle. “Kicked out of my own office. Never thought I’d see the day.”
He trudged off, coffee in hand and a smile on his face. Well, at least one of the Granvilles was in a good mood today. Too bad for her it seemed to be the wrong one. The minute Tom closed the door, Cole spoke up.
“All right, let’s get this over with.”
Maddie swallowed hard. The guy was rather intimidating when he was ticked.
“Well, good morning to you, too.”
His eyes narrowed. Dang, did he have to make this so hard on her? Apologies weren’t exactly her specialty.
Food, however, was.
She reached into her shoulder bag. “I, uh, brought you something.”
“Great. Let me guess: it’s pink, and—”
“Pink? Wow, I sure hope not.” She produced the small plastic container stuffed with her nearly world-famous monkey bread and held it out to him. “Though, that’s a great idea for the next time I get hired to cater a baby shower.”
Cole took the container and stared at it in silence for a long moment. “This…is why you came by?”
“No.” Maddie wrung her hands together. “I came by to apologize. For the way I treated you last night. I knew it wasn’t your fault, my sleeve getting caught like that, but you were the easiest scapegoat. That whole laundry episode brought back some really bad childhood memories—I, uh, got picked on a lot—and, well, I lost my cool.” She swallowed hard, the rest of her apology coming out at barely more than a whisper. “I just hope you can forgive me.”
He looked up, a mixture of disbelief and confusion on his brows. “You mean…you didn’t come here to fire me?”
“Fire you?” She blew out the breath she’d been holding in a rush. “For what, caring too much about my well-being?”
Ever so slowly, Cole’s trademark crooked grin tugged at his perfect lips.
“Though,” she added. “If you ever suggest I drop something again, don’t be surprised if I don’t.”
“So…we’re good?”
Good? He might be. She, however, felt rather tortured standing so close to all his hunky handsomeness. Maybe she should have fired him and let Sarah come back, just to get her libido under control. Then again, spikes in her hormones might actually get her to speak up and ask Tyson to that stupid gala. She took a step back to give her a little more space from Mr. Far-Too-Tempting-And-Oh-Yeah-He’s-My-Employee, pretending to check for something on the bottom of her shoe.
“Does that mean you’ll forgive me for being a total bi-otch last night and come back to work?”
“Only if you forgive me for acting like your mother hen.” He ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Sorry, guess I had some bad memories dredged up, too.”
“Deal. And…I’ll lay off the wine when you’re around from now on.”
Maddie extended her hand his way. Instead of shaking, he pulled her into a tight hug.
“I thought I’d lost your friendship last night,” he whispered, his cheek resting atop her head. “Took me forever to fall asleep.”
The pain in his voice surprised her even more than the unexpected contact. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing in his delicious scent, savoring his warmth, all the while telling herself not to get too used to this. He was talking friendship, and that’s all they were meant to be. Even if he had just admitted to lying in bed last night, thinking about her.
“Nah,” she said, rubbing circles along his back. “It’d take a whole lot more than stealing my wine to do that.”
“Good.” He drew back all too soon, then grabbed a jacket off the chair he’d vacated. “You eat already?”
“No. You?”
“Nope, and I’m starved.”
“We could just eat the monkey bread I brought.” She shrugged.
“No way, I’m saving that for later. Why don’t we go grab a bite? I need to get out of here for a while, clear my head. We can work on our next plan of attack while we’re there.”
Plan of attack? Maddie didn’t have the foggiest idea what that was all about, but found herself liking the “we” part of it all a good deal.
“Yeah, all right. Where’re we going?”
He motioned toward the door and threw her a devilish grin. “You’ll see.”
…
Cole held the door open to EAT, enjoying the look of utter mortification on Maddie’s face as she stepped inside. He’d heard someone mention it after church a while back and had fallen in love with the place. No snooty or opinionated patrons here. With its grease-laden atmosphere, slowly decaying interior, and quickly deteriorating exterior, it was simply a place people went to, well, eat.
All except for Maddie, who looked like she’d rather lick the Checkerberry’s floor clean than consume their food…which made it that much more amusing. He’d just consider it restitution for her behavior last night. She angled for a far corner, casting him a look over her shoulder that could have put a sumo wrestler six feet under, but came to a halt a few steps farther.
“Brent?”
A broad set of shoulders flinched to their left. Brent Masterson lowered his newspaper and turned reluctantly from his plate full of diner food at the bar.
“Uh, hey, Maddie. Cole. Fancy meeting you here.”
“There is nothing fancy about this place.” She scanned the long bar with a look of disgust, her gaze landing on the half-eaten meal before him. “Really? I work my butt off each and every day to provide quality food at the inn and this is what you choose?”
Brent looked to him for moral support, and Cole grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do was get into a fresh argument with her. Even so, he couldn’t leave Brent hanging, not when he was one of the few long-timers in town who always treated him like just another one of the guys.
“How about we leave Brent to his meal, huh? I bet he’s just here choking it down because he’s missing Kayla. She’s probably back at the inn covering for you, right?”
“Uh-huh.” Maddie’s gaze narrowed. “We’re gonna have words later, Masterson. Words.”
With a shake of her head she continued on toward the far booth. Brent’s shoulders sagged with relief. He mouthed the words “thank you” and turned back to his meal. Cole just chuckled and followed after his boss.
“Can’t believe that man.” Maddie slid into the far booth with a frown. “Can’t believe you, either.”
“Oh, come on, Maddie. You deserve a break from cooking. Let someone else do it for you today.”
She leaned forward, her voice low. “Cooking is not what I would call what goes on behind that wall.”
Cole grabbed a menu poking up from amid the slew of condiments on the window-side of the table and refrained from commenting back. He’d never admit to Maddie, but EAT was one of his favorite places to go in this town. Because it was close to campus, the younger crowd was migratory and oblivious to the town’s newcomers. The older crowd—Brent notwithstanding— was mostly crotchety old men who were more interested in what grain and pork bellies were selling for than the town’s recent additions to their general population. Which left Cole free to kick back without worry that his past might rise up and bite him in the rear.
He glanced at the menu, the debate brief between eggs, eggs, and more eggs and a plate full of flapjack carbs—he was in an eggs kind of mood today—and set it aside. Seeing the waitress busy with another customer, he turned his attention back to Maddie. She sat with her hands in her lap, looking out over the place.
“Already know what you want?”
“A bottle of Clorox.” She met his gaze. “And maybe a blowtorch.”
He burst out laughing. Maddie’s scowl deepened, but the hint of a grin ghosted across her lips. Lips, he realized sitting so close to her, that were as perfectly curvy as the rest of her.
“Come on, it’s not that bad.”
“Is, too. Let someone else do the cooking for me.” She snorted. “More like let someone else serve me up a heart attack on a plate. With friends like you, who needs enemies?”
So she considered him a friend, too. Cole felt a warmth wash over him he hadn’t felt in a long time. Not since the early days, before his dad had disappeared. Back when they had a home. A yard. A neighborhood…
He swallowed hard and looked away, afraid if he thought about it too long the spell would be broken. “Friend, huh?”
“Well, it sounds better than subordinate, doesn’t it? And since we’re not at work but sitting here together…”
She cleared her throat, and Cole glanced up in time to see a pretty pink tint to her cheeks. Ah, but that was a thought he shouldn’t be having. She’d just called him a friend. Barely a step up from coworker. Someone as stable and grounded as Maddie deserved a guy with those same characteristics.
“Yeah, friend will work,” he said. “Sounds better than enemy, that’s for sure.”
Yep, he had enough of those already, all because of his jacked-up past, his crappy timing, and his stupid trusting heart. Best to focus on building a career, which started with getting his shop off the ground. If only he could find a way to do that without risking his future in Mount Pleasant. Because the more time he spent here, the more this quiet, conservative town was beginning to grow on him.
Footsteps approached, and soon EAT’s aging, no-nonsense waitress appeared at their table. “Morning. You folks ready to order?”
“Just a coffee for me,” said Maddie. When the waitress raised a brow, she added, “Oh, I already ate.”
Liar. Cole threw her a look. She raised her chin in challenge. He just rolled his eyes and ordered the western omelet and coffee. The waitress shuffled off and was back shortly with her coffee pot, the smell a bit burnt and acidic but caused his stomach to rumble nonetheless. Maddie just stared down at the steaming cup of Joe as though it were antifreeze that’d been set before her.
“It won’t kill you, Madds.”
She arched a brow. “Or maybe it will, and that’s why you brought me here.”
He laughed. She had that effect on him often, intentional or not. It was one of the things he liked about her. And another reason why he needed to get her squared away with Tyson. Because the more time he spent with Maddie, the more Cole found himself thinking about her. And that just wouldn’t do.
“Now, where would the fun in that be? Besides, I promised I’d help set you up with Tyson. Hard to do if you’re pushing up daisies.”
Maddie sighed and slid a hand in through the handle of her mug. “Yeah, but if you killed me then I wouldn’t have to worry about needing to find a date for that stupid gala, now would I?”
“Hmm, not unless there’s an eternity full of them waiting for you Upstairs.”
“And that’d be just my luck, wouldn’t it?”
She groaned, and Cole couldn’t help but grin. Maddie could complain all she liked, but he bet she’d look amazing all dressed up for this crazy gala. Some fitted dress, maybe in a dark blue or purple. Hair done up, makeup on, polished toes peeking out from some sexy, open-toed high heels. He’d just started imagining what it’d be like, sliding his hands around her waist on the dance floor, when she spoke back up.
“So, what’s our next step, coach?”
“Next step?”
Cole ran a hand through his mess of hair. Sexy heels? Where had that line of thinking come from? Maybe bringing her to breakfast hadn’t been such a good idea after all, not if it was going to cause his imagination to start down those paths. She was counting on him to set her up with someone else, for crying out loud. Which meant the best thing that could happen now would be for him to get her and this Tyson guy paired up and paired up fast. Because the sooner she was off the dating market, the easier it’d be to stop this crush he seemed to be developing on his boss before it went any further.
Too bad to properly coach her meant things would likely get tougher before they got better. Coaching required time to be put in. One on one time.
He grabbed his own mug and took a long, scalding drink.
“Talking,” he said with a wince. “We’ve got to get you two talking. And I know just what you need to do.”