Cole

  have allowed the suit to proceed, and everyone knew it. I continued to hope Sia’s prediction wasn’t true, that they hadn’t used it to look at my bank statements as preparation to come back with a lawsuit for Liam’s inheritance. Jake and his partner promised that wouldn’t happen. The inheritance would be protected.

  I was pissed at Carol and Hank, but that had faded to annoyance, and the more time that passed without hearing anything from them, even that was starting to dissipate. I preferred not to think of them at all.

  For the first two weeks after Sia learned about Cole, she and Jake slept at her apartment. Then, even though the facts hadn’t changed—Cole Mauricio was still in the mafia, and he was still Jake’s landlord—somehow Sia’s concern faded. They were back to sleeping at Jake’s. Sia and I met for lunch every other day, and I had dinner with them at Jake’s a couple times, too.

  But I never invited them to my floor—because of Cole.

  He came over every night, or almost every night. Each time was different. Some nights we ate dinner, watched movies. Other nights we went straight to bed. And still other times, it was even later. Cole would slide into bed next to me. There were times I couldn’t let him go, and nights when he acted like he’d been starving for me.

  We did what normal couples did, but we weren’t a normal couple. I tried not to think about how much I missed him when he wasn’t there or how my body ached to touch him, to feel the answering pressure of his body against mine.

  Today was one of those days. I was trying not to count the hours away until he came back. I needed a distraction, and checking my email, I got the perfect one.

  Addison,

  We have an opening for our column this week. Could you put something together? Let me know asap if you can. If not, we’ll run someone else, but if you can, we’ll save that space for you.

  Sincerely,

  Tina Gais

  Editor-in-Chief

  Onlooker Online Magazine

  And crap.

  I needed to do something. I couldn’t sit around anymore. I’d been more and more restless, and maybe it was time I tried writing again, so I found myself typing on the computer:

  Five Ways to Keep Him Out of Your Heart (until you’re ready to let him in)

  Okay, ladies. You all know that guy. He’s the guy after the guy. Whether you’ve lost a husband, a boyfriend, a lover, or had a crush that completely crushed you, life goes on. You have to move on too, and whether it has taken you days, weeks, months, or even years, eventually you get there. That’s when that guy shows up.

  You start slow. Maybe you just see each other in the hallway. Then you find yourself seeing more and more of each other. You exchange smiles. You stop and talk to each other. After that it may be something more. You make plans. You follow through. You start seeing each other, and bam! After a few times, you’ve officially done what you didn’t think was possible.

  You’ve. Moved. On.

  But here’s the tricky part. How do you continue moving on without relapsing? How do you protect your heart, keep yourself from being crushed again and experiencing the same agony you just got over, all over again? Use these tips to ensure you don’t get crushed by that guy.

  Know your limits. Don’t kiss on the lips or look into his eyes when you have sex. This causes feelings. You’ll feel intimate with him, and that wall around your heart will begin to melt. Back up. Retreat. Don’t go there!

  Don’t tell him your deepest, darkest fears. When you share something close and personal, you’re opening up. This makes you vulnerable. Keep the lips shut. Change the topic to the weather, to sports, to a sale your favorite store is having this weekend. Think about superficial things, like clothes, trips, hockey. Don’t go personal at any cost, not until you’re ready. When you do, he’ll worm his way in even farther, and that wall will soon be half melted.

  Do not introduce him to your friends. This is key! Even if you’re trying not to get too personal with that guy, they will. They’ll want to know details about him. What does he do? What’s his family like? Are you going to get married? If you do, will you live at his house or your place? Does he have kids? Does he want more kids? They’ll claim to mean well, but it’s a rare friend who can read the signs and keep things on the surface for you. And really, whatever happens is your fault because you introduced them. So like 1 and 2—don’t do it! Be selfish. Keep him all to yourself.

  No family gatherings. If you can’t introduce him to friends, why would you introduce him to family? They’re the definition of up close and personal. Family is friends on steroids, and they’ll ask even more probing questions: about religion, how you’ll raise your children together, if you’ll invite Aunt Timbuktu to the wedding and whether your cousin from Aunt Timbuktu’s family is going to do the solo at the ceremony. I’m yelling at you and waving my hands in the air: don’t do it!

  Do not leave your belongings at each other’s places. Your belongings are representations of your feelings. If you leave them, you’re leaving part of yourself behind. Keep all of yourself together. When you walk out the next day for work, take your overnight bag with you. And don’t let him leave his stuff behind either. The only approved item for the drawer on his side of the bed is a condom. That piece of rubber could be used for anyone, so there’s no sentimental attachment.

  So there you have it. Follow these five steps, and your emotions should be guarded until the moment you’re ready to let that guy in. And if even this sounds too risky, there is one surefire, 100%-guaranteed way to keep your heart intact: dating abstinence. Just don’t date! Buy a dildo for the lonely nights, and fill up your evenings with friends. Use alcohol as needed.

  I was the biggest hypocrite in the world, but staring at the screen, I was proud of what I’d written. I read back through, made a few tweaks, and sent it to Tina. This was the first real thing I’d written since Liam’s accident.

  A sudden need to celebrate had me reaching for my phone. I didn’t think. I texted Cole: I want to do something fun tonight.

  Good. I’ll plan it. Get in the car at nine. Carl will drive you. My phone buzzed a moment later. Dress in jeans, a sweater, and cowboy boots.

  Cowboy boots?

  Do you have a pair? I can have some sent over.

  I have some. But cowboy boots?

  Trust me. I think you’ll love it. I’ll meet you at the place. It takes an hour to get there.

  And at nine that night, Carl was waiting for me in the basement parking lot.

  I’d tried several times to get Cole to let him do something else; I didn’t need a driver, but he insisted. He said it was a small worry he didn’t have to be concerned about anymore. When I met Sia for lunch, I walked with her, but if we went somewhere other than Gianni’s, I lied and made sure to let her know I would “order” a car for us. In a way I did: I let Carl know when we’d need him.

  A little voice nagged at me whenever Carl drove us. Sia was scared of Cole, and one of his drivers was driving us around. I wasn’t ready to tell her about him, and I knew Carl had orders. If I went anywhere without him, he would follow me anyway. So my way of appeasing everyone was to lie. I hoped when Sia did find out, she wouldn’t hate me, and as Carl drove into the night, taking me outside the city limits, I hoped once again that Sia would forgive me.

  She’d called earlier, wanting me to go to dinner with her and Jake. If I said I was sick, she’d want to check on me, and if I made any other excuse, they’d have called relentlessly for me to join them at Jake’s after dinner.

  I’d needed a reason that took me out of their reach, so I’d lied once more.

  I’d told her I was checking one last time on my house. I knew she would give me space to deal with that. She always did. Once I told her that, I’d realized I really did need to check on the house. I planned on asking Carl to take me there tomorrow.

  Right now, I sat back and watched the city lights fade as Carl drove. I grew sleepy until the car turned on to a gravel road. We were in the country.
On both sides of the car were green meadows, fenced in by wooden posts. The fences were painted white and the grass trimmed low. We were at a ranch. The car stopped, and Carl came around to open my door.

  We’d parked right in front of a large wooden barn—bright red and two-storied. Its big door was opened, and I could see stalls lining both sides of the barn with a large cement pathway in the middle. Another barn sat to the right and a large track to the left.

  “What is this place?”

  Carl didn’t answer. He went back to the car and began to reverse.

  “Addison.”

  I twisted to find Cole coming toward me in jeans and a black zip-up sweatshirt that molded to him perfectly. He didn’t look like a mobster now; he was more akin to a ranch owner. I glanced down and scowled.

  I pointed. “You don’t have cowboy boots on.” I tapped my boot-clad feet. “You told me to wear cowboy boots.”

  He laughed. “I know.” He caught my hand, lacing our fingers.

  There. I felt the tingle, like always.

  “I wanted to see you in them. I thought they’d be cute.”

  I tightened our hold, not having a retort ready to go. Everything was melting inside of me.

  The barn was heated as Cole led me inside, and the first few stalls held horses. Some looked back at me with heads over the stall doors. Others turned away, their heads hanging down. A few munched hay that hung in the stalls’ corners.

  “What is this place?” I asked, drawing closer to Cole.

  He gestured to a horse wearing a long, draped coat. “I own a race track, but I also board horses. This is one of our boarding stables.”

  “You own these horses?”

  “A few, but most belong to other people.” We progressed through the barn, coming to a side door. It was open, and Cole pointed to the racing track. “Some are trained here. Some are just ridden here by their owners.” He gestured to the woods. “There are riding trails out there.”

  “Who are the other owners?”

  He shrugged. “It depends. Most of them are people in the city. The other barn holds the racing horses, but some owners have their own stables.”

  The stables felt intimate and warm. A set of stairs wound down from the second floor into the middle of the stalls. Cole kept moving toward the opposite end of the barn. A horse—all white with black spots—hung its head over its stall and watched us come. It was larger than the others, and as we got closer, I could tell it was a special horse. It held its head high with a thick and muscular neck. Power rippled from the horse’s body.

  He reminded me of Cole.

  Cole moved closer, extending his hand to touch the horse’s neck. “This is one of our stallions. We keep the mares in the other building and the geldings in the front, where we came in. Those are the guys who got the bits snipped, if you didn’t know. This guy here we keep separate from the rest so no fights break out.”

  “Is he dangerous?” I didn’t know anything about horses, but I could see that Cole loved him. And the stallion allowed Cole to touch him.

  “He can be; that’s for sure. But if he’s handled right, he’s a happy guy.” Cole gestured around the stable. “He’s only in here at night. We let him run with the breeding mares during the day. We’ve got a few other stallions, but we keep them elsewhere.”

  “He’s beautiful, Cole.”

  He grinned at me, resting against the stall door. “You wanted to do something fun, but since we’re confined to privacy, I thought I’d bring you here. I can’t tell you anything about my life as a Mauricio, but for a time, I wasn’t a Mauricio. This place—well, not this specific place, but another stable—I spent a lot of time there. I lived with a family for a few years and helped take care of their horses. I bought this place when I came back. It reminds me of my home, or one of my homes anyway.”

  My mouth dried. There was so much I wanted to know, and I couldn’t ask. I hadn’t said yes yet, to letting my in-laws know I’d officially chosen sides. I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest; but I’d been holding back. I wasn’t sure why, maybe I was just trying to be cautious? Maybe I just wanted to know before I was all in, but I wanted to say it now. I opened my mouth, and I almost said it, but I didn’t.

  Cole tightened his hand on mine. His thumb brushed over my hand, back and forth. Tingles shot up my arm. “I’ve got dinner planned up there. It’s the sleeping quarters.”

  I wanted to know why Cole had brought me here. I knew there was a reason, and it wasn’t just privacy. I’d heard him on the phone enough, interacted with him enough to know he was decisive. He never wasted words, and everything he did had a purpose.

  He took me upstairs, and I got another surprise.

  The second floor included a living area, a kitchen, and a table set up on one side with a hallway leading past the stairs. Cole pointed in that direction and said, “There are three rooms for sleeping back there. If a mare is foaling, the owners will sleep here or have a worker sleep here. I have a general manager who runs this whole place, and he sleeps there, too, when his wife kicks him out of the house.”

  “And tonight?”

  Cole paused, his eyes darting to my lips before darkening. “Tonight is my turn. I told him I’d watch the horses.”

  There was no doubt that he intended both of us to stay, and that thought had my usual ache coming back. I could already anticipate the feel of him over me when he stepped close. My eyes flicked up.

  He focused on my lips, and I held my breath, knowing what was next. I closed my eyes as his head lowered, and a second later, his lips touched mine. My pulse skipped before speeding up as his mouth opened over mine, taking charge. I gasped, surging up on my toes to press more fully against him.

  “Addison,” he murmured, his lips moving over mine.

  That sent a whole other rush through me. “Yes?” I didn’t open my eyes. I wanted to stay there, right where we were.

  “Do you want to go to bed or do you want to eat?”

  That was a no-brainer. I wrapped my arms around him. “Bed, please. Now.”

  Coming back down, I could only lie there as Cole trailed kisses down my throat all the way to my stomach before pulling out and resting beside me. Even my eyelids were exhausted. I watched him with heavy eyes as he grinned at me.

  I chuckled softly, but had no words. I didn’t feel the need to say anything. Cole wrapped an arm around my waist and tucked his head into my shoulder. His eyelashes grazed my skin as his eyes closed. It felt right to be here in silence—just us and someplace beautiful and private.

  It was later, much later, when I realized I must’ve fallen asleep. Cole had left the light in the bathroom on, but that was off now.

  “Cole,” I whispered.

  His arm had moved farther down to my hip. He was stretched out beside me on his back. “Yeah?”

  I heard the sleep in his voice, but asked anyway, “Did you turn the light off in the bathroom?”

  I didn’t need to say anything else. He was off the bed in one smooth, quick movement. I couldn’t hear him, but I could see his shadow in the dark. He went around the bed to the window, first pressing against the wall next to it. He stayed there, peering outside, and my chest grew tighter with each passing second.

  Something was happening. Something that wasn’t good.

  “Cole?” I kept my voice low.

  “Shhh.” His was even lower. Then his hand moved, and the moonlight bounced off something hard. He pulled it closer, and I saw the end of a gun.

  He had a gun. Cole was the mafia.

  It hit me in the chest like a battering ram. I’d forgotten, or I’d forgotten about the dangers that came with it, until now. The blow was fierce, and it bowled me over. I could only stare at his gun.

  “Get dressed, Addison.”

  He didn’t move from the window.

  I rolled off the bed and dressed on the floor, making as little sound as possible. When I reached for my boots, he said, “There are shoes in the closet. Crawl there and
grab a pair.”