across her ear, drawing a shiver.
“Can we talk?”
Taking a calming breath, she nodded and turned. “I would like that.”
Cole took her hand and led her over to the heavy leather couch. She pulled a pillow into her lap as he sat down next to her. Fingers running over the burgundy striped fabric, she tried to gather her courage and thoughts.
He speared his fingers through his hair, looking as if he too was marshalling the words he wanted, but his opening was simple.
“I’m sorry.” At her silence, he continued. “For scaring you this morning, for pushing things in the barn yesterday, I want to apologize.”
“What happened in the barn was my fault,” she admitted. “I started something I wasn’t prepared to finish at the time and I panicked. I owe you an apology for blowing hot and cold. You don’t deserve that.”
“I’m willing to forgive and forget if you are.”
“Deal,” she said, offering her hand for a firm shake. A nervous laugh slipped free and she hugged the pillow. “That’s a weight off.”
“I’m glad we could finally get an unchaperoned moment to clear the air.”
“I know they mean well, but…”
He chuckled at her grimace and nodded. “When we were in school, Trey championed all the girls. He was their knight in shining armor. It seems you’ve piqued his protective streak despite his grumbles.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t really think it’s a protective streak that you pique in me, though I guess that would be a part of it,” Cole said, humor and heat shining in his blue eyes.
“That’s part of the problem. There are different components to every relationship, along with different expectations,” she whispered, feeling like she was laying her heart on the line “What is the likelihood of finding one person fill all those roles?”
He looked startled by her question. Adrienne held her breath as his beautiful eyes narrowed in speculation. The lights dimmed, breaking their stare down. The radio faltered. Prepared or not, she found herself desperately bartering with God in an attempt to keep the power. She let out her held breath as the lights flared back to full strength. Turning back to Cole, she opened her mouth and everything went dark. Her breath sounded unnaturally loud in the silence without the hum of the furnace or the soft tunes pouring from the radio. Easing closer to Cole, she looked around. The huge fireplace kept the room from plunging into the darkness of the rest of the house. Fear crawled up her spine at the quiet.
“Genevieve?”
“We’re right here, Adri. Everything is okay,” Gen said softly, a beam of light preceding her into the living room with Trey looming on her heels.
Gen held the flashlight while her husband lit the oil lamps, dispelling the shadows from the corners. Cole’s hand covered her wringing fingers in her lap and Adrienne looked down.
“Everything will be fine,” he said, squeezing her hands in reassurance. “The only thing we have to worry about is Trey’s ego swelling out of control because, for once, all of his preparation for gloom and doom is going to come in handy.”
She nudged Cole with her shoulder, but couldn’t hold back a smile at the suffering in his tone. Trey’s smug grin was sure not to help.
“I was making some hot chocolate. I’ll finish it up and bring in some cookies,” Gen said, heading back for the kitchen.
Adrienne rolled her hand over, lacing fingers with Cole for an appreciative squeeze.
“Thank you. I better help Gen.”
He opened his mouth, reluctance clear in his expression, but glanced at his brother and swallowed whatever he’d wanted to say. Patting her hand, he let her go.
Gen looked up from pouring hot chocolate when she came in. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“You’ve been quiet and pensive all day.”
“Pensive?” Adrienne asked, arching an eyebrow at her friend.
“Yes, pensive. Men are brooding, women are pensive,” she said with
“Can we talk?”
Taking a calming breath, she nodded and turned. “I would like that.”
Cole took her hand and led her over to the heavy leather couch. She pulled a pillow into her lap as he sat down next to her. Fingers running over the burgundy striped fabric, she tried to gather her courage and thoughts.
He speared his fingers through his hair, looking as if he too was marshalling the words he wanted, but his opening was simple.
“I’m sorry.” At her silence, he continued. “For scaring you this morning, for pushing things in the barn yesterday, I want to apologize.”
“What happened in the barn was my fault,” she admitted. “I started something I wasn’t prepared to finish at the time and I panicked. I owe you an apology for blowing hot and cold. You don’t deserve that.”
“I’m willing to forgive and forget if you are.”
“Deal,” she said, offering her hand for a firm shake. A nervous laugh slipped free and she hugged the pillow. “That’s a weight off.”
“I’m glad we could finally get an unchaperoned moment to clear the air.”
“I know they mean well, but…”
He chuckled at her grimace and nodded. “When we were in school, Trey championed all the girls. He was their knight in shining armor. It seems you’ve piqued his protective streak despite his grumbles.”
“What about you?”
“I don’t really think it’s a protective streak that you pique in me, though I guess that would be a part of it,” Cole said, humor and heat shining in his blue eyes.
“That’s part of the problem. There are different components to every relationship, along with different expectations,” she whispered, feeling like she was laying her heart on the line “What is the likelihood of finding one person fill all those roles?”
He looked startled by her question. Adrienne held her breath as his beautiful eyes narrowed in speculation. The lights dimmed, breaking their stare down. The radio faltered. Prepared or not, she found herself desperately bartering with God in an attempt to keep the power. She let out her held breath as the lights flared back to full strength. Turning back to Cole, she opened her mouth and everything went dark. Her breath sounded unnaturally loud in the silence without the hum of the furnace or the soft tunes pouring from the radio. Easing closer to Cole, she looked around. The huge fireplace kept the room from plunging into the darkness of the rest of the house. Fear crawled up her spine at the quiet.
“Genevieve?”
“We’re right here, Adri. Everything is okay,” Gen said softly, a beam of light preceding her into the living room with Trey looming on her heels.
Gen held the flashlight while her husband lit the oil lamps, dispelling the shadows from the corners. Cole’s hand covered her wringing fingers in her lap and Adrienne looked down.
“Everything will be fine,” he said, squeezing her hands in reassurance. “The only thing we have to worry about is Trey’s ego swelling out of control because, for once, all of his preparation for gloom and doom is going to come in handy.”
She nudged Cole with her shoulder, but couldn’t hold back a smile at the suffering in his tone. Trey’s smug grin was sure not to help.
“I was making some hot chocolate. I’ll finish it up and bring in some cookies,” Gen said, heading back for the kitchen.
Adrienne rolled her hand over, lacing fingers with Cole for an appreciative squeeze.
“Thank you. I better help Gen.”
He opened his mouth, reluctance clear in his expression, but glanced at his brother and swallowed whatever he’d wanted to say. Patting her hand, he let her go.
Gen looked up from pouring hot chocolate when she came in. “Are you okay?”
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“You’ve been quiet and pensive all day.”
“Pensive?” Adrienne asked, arching an eyebrow at her friend.
“Yes, pensive. Men are brooding, women are pensive,” she said with
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