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“Really? Am I safe out here?” I wasn’t keen on the idea of being eaten by a wolf. Although it was arguably no worse than being beaten to death by Brent.
“Yes, you’re perfectly safe, Eva.” The amusement in Cole’s voice was clear. “I’ve made some cookies. Come in and grab one.”
Oh my god, cookies! When was the last time I ate cookies?
I had a vague recollection of someone at work bringing in freshly baked cookies one time, but that was at least a year ago. Most of the women I worked with were too tired and jaded to care about making the workplace more hospitable, and our boss definitely gave no shits. We were lucky there was a kettle in the staffroom. Even milk sometimes.
Unable to resist the idea of cookies, I hurried back indoors. The minute I stepped foot in the kitchen, the scent of cocoa and vanilla hit me like a truck. Almost immediately, my stomach rumbled with appreciation. Cole pushed the baking tray in my direction.
“Take a couple.”
I hesitated. Brent never let me eat nice things. He said he didn’t want me to get fat.
“I made them for you,” Cole said.
A desire to show my appreciation for Cole’s efforts overrode any lingering fear of what Brent might say.
I grabbed a cookie from the tray. It was still warm and the moment it hit my tongue, I groaned with pleasure. Chocolate was my weakness. The few times I’d had chocolate as a child, I’d loved it. Far more than any stupid plastic toy the neighborhood church ladies gifted me at Christmas.
I was lucky that my father had no interest in chocolate or candy. His weakness was booze. As long as he had some, he left my meager treats alone.
The last heavenly mouthful of chocolate cookie went down. I looked up to see Cole staring at me with heat in his eyes. He stepped up close and reached out, rubbing the corner of my mouth with his thumb.
The pine and musk scent of him mingled with the cocoa and vanilla and something stirred deep inside.
“You had a smudge of chocolate,” he said in a husky voice. I wanted to move back, put some space between us, but my feet stayed rooted to the floor.
“Have another cookie,” he urged. The way his bulky frame towered over me should have been intimidating, but nothing about Cole scared me. Not like Brent did.
“I ought not to,” I whispered.
“Why not?” He was so close I could feel the heat of his skin. Neither he nor Silas ever seemed to feel the cold, not that the cabin was cold. I’d seen both of them outside in little more than a tee and a pair of shorts. I guess they were a lot more warm-blooded than me.
God, he made me feel things I didn’t want to feel.
“Too much sugar is bad for me,” I said, not believing it for a moment, but not wanting to take more than my share of the cookies. After all, Cole had likely made them for him and Silas, not their unwanted guest.
“I made them for you, sweetheart.” He grabbed a second cookie and held it up against my lips. “Open wide.” My lips parted, and I took a small bite. It was so delicious, still warm. I couldn’t help but groan with pleasure again as the sweet flavor burst on my tongue.
Cole’s eyes turned from emerald green to pure gold. Once again, I wondered how that was possible, but all rational thought fled when he pressed me against the table with his hard, muscular body.
“Good girl,” he rasped. Heat bloomed in my lower body, and his nostrils flared. He leaned in and for one heady moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. Then the back door flew open and Silas stepped in, his shirt bloody.
“Bro, I caught a—” Silas skidded to a halt, his eyes flicking between me and Cole. My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I realized how it looked. Here I was, three days after forcing my way into their lives, flirting with one of them.
Jesus. What must they think of me!
I dropped the rest of the cookie on the table, pushed past Cole, and fled the kitchen with my face on fire.
No matter how hard I tried, sleep wouldn’t come. The cabin was quiet. I’d gone to bed early, mostly because I was still embarrassed about what nearly happened in the kitchen with Cole.
I didn’t know if Cole was flirting with me or just being nice. He probably felt sorry for me. No doubt I was the only 18-year-old who’d never been on a date or flirted with a guy she liked. It was sad how clueless I was.
My cheeks burned when I remembered the expression on Silas’s face when he saw Cole and me together, Cole’s hand on my waist. He’d looked almost angry, which made no sense.
Ugh, I was so confused.
After another hour of tossing and turning, I decided a hot drink might help me settle. I remembered seeing a box of chamomile tea in one of the kitchen cabinets. Since it was nearly 2 AM, Cole and Silas were probably asleep, so at least I wouldn’t have to face them.
