2. Cole

Chapter 2

Cole

Itook the last sip of my coffee and stopped behind an ancient pink VW Bug, grinning to myself when I saw a curvy little brunette step out and start waving manically over her head.

Then she turned to face my truck, and I bit my lip.

Damn it.

It wasMadison—the cute one and the one I knew the least. I’d been hoping it wouldn’t be her. All the Winslow women were beautiful in their own right, but there was something so different, so fascinating about Madison.

My across-the-street neighbor, named Gigi, had three granddaughters: a lovely trio named Riley, Abigail, and Madison Winslow. But she’d neglected to tell me which one I would be rescuing from the side of the highway when she texted me.

I grew up across the street from Gigi. Her granddaughters spent a lot of time at her place throughout the years, on holidays and school breaks. Sometimes, my brothers and I would play out in the yard with the oldest two—they were closer to our age. Madi was always the little one on the porch, with Gigi watching us as we played together.

With a shake of my head to clear it, I waved back.

It didn’t matter if it was the cute one since I was most definitely too old for her anyway. Eight years was a lot. At least it would have been back when I was twenty-eight and she was twenty—not that I knew her very well back then. But maybe it didn’t mean as much now that we were both in our thirties.

But on the plus side, at least it wasn’t the one who started flirting with me the second she found out the ink on my divorce papers had dried; that had been Abigail, the middle. I’d let her down gently. But honestly, her flirting had seemed kind of impersonal anyway, and she was unbothered by the rejection. It was as if I was just single and available and placed in a convenient spot at Bookers Pub for her to talk to, and it was no big deal. It had been a relief, but that didn’t mean I wanted to drive her to Cozy Creek to test that theory.

With a shrug and a grin, I stepped out, and slammed my truck door.

Like always, the air was crisp and clean up here. I inhaled deeply and stretched my arms overhead, letting the knot of tension that had built up between my shoulder blades dissipate along with my exhaled breath. I was beyond tired, bone weary, and ready for bed.

I had spent the night assisting on a warehouse fire the next town over. As the chief of the Cozy Creek Fire Brigade, I often helped our neighboring departments if they were understaffed. My entire crew did.

Sleep was the only thing on my mind. My eyes were desperate to close. All I had planned for the rest of the day was to pick up my kids from my ex-wife, grab a pizza, and crash early.

We had an informal fifty-fifty custody agreement that depended heavily on our work schedules. Living in the same town made it easy to facilitate that. Being there for our kids was the one thing we agreed on.

I stood there for a minute, blinking into the sun’s glare while surreptitiously watching her watch me. I took in her long, untamed curls, highlighted by the light shining through the trees. Her big, wide eyes looked me over without fear or artifice, though her posture was slightly rigid and timid.

My jaw tensed as I finally took in her tight black sweater and long, lean jeans-clad legs to land on her high-heeled boots.

Then she bit her lip when her eyes met mine, and I had to look away because, damn, she was fucking gorgeous. My hand clenched and unclenched as I realized the word cute was utterly wrong when there were so many better words to describe her, like stunning, beautiful, tempting…

What does a few years of age difference matter anyway?

No. She had to stay off-limits.

She was Gigi’s granddaughter, and I didn’t want to screw up our friendship when I inevitably messed things up like I’d done with my ex-wife.

Pick up the kids and grab a pizza.

Get into bed early.

Do NOT flirt with the stunningly gorgeous Winslow sister.

I knew better than to get involved with her anyway. My dad had always advised against dating anyone you’d be unable to get away from if things didn’t work out. I’d lived across from Gigi my entire life. I loved her as much as I loved my own grandmothers. Getting into a relationship with one of her granddaughters was a bad idea.

Don’t shit where you live. Dad had said that to my brothers and me as we sat around the table for my youngest brother Tate’sthirteenth birthday dinner years ago. Apparently, he’d decided that since we were all teenagers, we were old enough to start hearing the wisdom he’d accumulated throughout his life. Family dinners became vastly more interesting after that night, much to our mother’s dismay.

It was good advice, and I should have taken it, considering ever since my divorce from the girl who’d grown up next door to me, I was forced to see her all over town with her new husband, who also happened to be my ex-best friend. The three of us had gone through school together since kindergarten.

They were hot and heavy in a way she and I had never been together, and it stung when I saw them for the first time in public. It’s too bad you couldn’t legally divide your local hangout places in a divorce.

They’d been carrying on behind my back for months before I caught them together. In my house. In my bed. Going at it like—I forced the mental image of it back outside of my head. Seeing it once was enough. I’d thrown them both out along with that damn bed and filed for divorce as soon as I found an attorney to handle it.

If I’d married someone I had gone to college with or someone from out of town, for example, she’d have moved back to wherever she came from, and I wouldn’t have to deal with the awkward sidelong glances from our shared acquaintances whenever we were in the same place at the same time.

Not that I wanted her back; I didn’t. I would never forgive him either, for that matter. What a shit friend he’d turned out to be. But after a lot of time and consideration—and a semi-public fistfight in the parking lot of Bookers Pub with said best ex-best friend—I realized we weren’t right for each other and never had been.

Bookers Pub and Grill was more than just a bar. You could take your family there for dinner. Unfortunately, my daughter was there having burgers with her best friend’s family when the fight broke out.

We’d taken it outside like the upstanding citizens we were, but it was still visible through the window, and Natalie had seen it all. The look on her face when my fist cracked into the jaw of her future stepfather still haunted me.

I never wanted to be in that kind of situation ever again—a spectacle to be mocked and pitied. I’d been humiliated and, to my shame, had sunken to the level of the people who had hurt me with their dishonesty and betrayal.

But now, I was finally back in a good place. I had moved on. My heart was healed and locked up tight in my chest. No one would ever have the power to break it or put it on display like that ever again.

Needless to say, small-town living was not ideal when you were the center of attention, and everyone you ran into, no matter where you went, knew your history.

“Hello,” I greeted once I’d shaken myself out of my exhausted stupor.

“Hi.” Her voice was shaky. She was probably scared. Being stranded on the side of the road up here would even make me a bit nervous, and I could absolutely handle myself if any trouble arose.

The stretch between Colorado Springs and Cozy Creek was pretty desolate. Nothing but dark forest and steep drop-offs lined the winding highway that led to town. It would be intimidating for someone who wasn’t used to the drive.

“You remember me, right?” I spoke low, soft, and hopefully reassuringly. “From Gigi’s. I live across the street.” I held my hand out to her. “Cole Sutter.”

She took it, squeezing it tight between hers with a tremulous smile. “Yes, I really appreciate you stopping to help me. I’m Madison. Uh, in case you forgot my name.”

“I remember you, Madison,” I murmured, smiling slightly despite myself when her cheeks turned pink. “Can I grab your things for you?”

“Yes. Please.” She dropped my hand like a hot potato and gestured toward the front of the little VW Bug. “The trunk is up here; these old cars are weird.”

I watched as she turned to grab her purse from the driver’s seat. Her perfume floated through the air as she spun away—vanilla, combined with something earthy that tested my resolve to refrain from asking her out. “Don’t forget to lock it,” I instructed as I unloaded her bags from the trunk. Gigi said she called for a tow, but getting here will take a while.

“Thank goodness you were available to pick me up. That forest would have started creeping me out once it got fully dark out here.”

“Hey, it even creeps out the locals sometimes. You’ll be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” I stowed her bags in the back as she got inside the truck.

“You’re a firefighter, right?” she asked after I settled into the cab to join her. “Being the hero must come naturally to you.”

“It was my lifelong dream; all I’d ever wanted to do.” Too bad I never felt like one. The mistakes and missteps were all too easy to remember, and the successes sometimes felt like luck.

“That’s what Gigi said. You climbed onto her roof and rescued her dog, Sir Basil Dungarees, The First. She still tells that story. How old were you, ten?”

I grinned at the memory. “Yup, ten years old. We may never know how that old mutt got up there in the first place.”

“She’s on the third, now, you know. The current Basil is a flatulent little thing. Just something to watch out for in case you haven’t experienced him crop dusting the living room on his way to the backyard doggy door.”

“I have had the olfactory pleasure. I know he thinks it’s funny, too. Have you noticed the look on his face before he goes outside?”

“I have seen it, and it’s truly diabolical. And yet, you still go over there to play poker with her and her friends?”

“Talks about me a lot, does she?” I shifted my eyes in her direction before restarting the truck and found her looking at me.

A fiery blush covered her cheeks. “From time to time—uh, I mean, she talks about all her neighbors. You know how she is.”

“Yeah, I know.” I cast one last look in her direction before pulling onto the highway. “But I had to quit the game. Mrs. Hadley cheats; losing to her was starting to eat into my beer money,” I cracked. “She’s worse than the guys at the station. That and—never mind.”

She let out a laugh. “Oh, she’s notorious, always has been. That woman even cheats at solitaire. And is there a second reason? I need all the warnings. Gigi asked if I wanted to join the game while I was in town.”

“Well, her daughter is a little handsy, so you won’t have to worry about that. Tate calls her Handsy Hadley. Once I got divorced, it was open season. She’d grab my ass every chance she got. That woman hasn’t met an innuendo she doesn’t like.”

Her eyes widened in dismay. “I’m so sorry. No one should be touched when they don’t want to be.”

“Yeah, and I couldn’t shove her off, or you know, defend myself beyond the words she chose to ignore. I couldn’t exactly punch her in the face like I would if it was a guy giving me trouble—anyway.” I cleared my throat, embarrassed.

“Does Gigi know? I can’t imagine her allowing that to happen.”

“No, I didn’t tell her. Mrs. Hadley is her friend, so I let it go. It was easier that way. Do you mind some music?”

She patted my arm. “Not at all.”

I turned on the radio, grateful she’d let me drop the topic. “Golden Hour” by Kasey Musgraves started playing, and it felt oddly intimate when she unconsciously began to hum along with the melody.

I focused on the road in front of the windshield and my clammy hands on the wheel. She was affecting me in ways I wasn’t ready to acknowledge.

She overwhelmed my senses. Between the soft light of the sun setting over the mountains and the sweet smell of her perfume permeating the air in my truck, I was surrounded by her. However, I was surprised at how at ease I felt despite being far outside my comfort zone.

“It’s good of you to come to take care of Gigi. I was worried watching her limp around on those crutches all week, and there’s only so much I can do to help her out with my work schedule.”

“She’s stubborn, for sure. I miss her all the time, and I’m happy she picked me to help.”

“I’m glad you’re here. How come I don’t know you? Your sisters always visit Gigi, hang out at the bakery, and Bookers. They’re around town a lot. But I rarely see you around.”

“Uh, I guess I was just busy with work and stuff. I mean, I was around. Just not as often, I guess.”

“Too bad.” I shot her a sidelong glance, pleased that the adorable pink blush still stained her cheeks despite my decision to stay away from her.