Page 23 of Blush Crush

I giggle, dusting flour across my workbench. “You do it enough for the both of us. That’s a twin thing, right?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “One of these days you’ll finally orgasm, and I’ll know because you’ll be skipping like you’re on the goddamn yellow brick road. You’ll see.”

“I won’t even need to tell you.” I laugh. “I’ll probably be so loud, the entire town will hear me.”

Layla throws her head back, giggling.

As I’m about to open my mouth to say something else, a loud crashing sound from next door has us turning our heads in unison.

Layla yelps. I nearly drop my mixing bowl.

“What the hell was that?” she asks.

Before I can answer, there’s a muffled curse, and I immediately recognize the voice.

It’s Cole.

We both stare at each other for half a beat before I wipe my hands on my apron. “Stay here.”

“Like I’m going to let you go check it out by yourself. Could be a psychopath,” Layla says, already hopping out of the chair and following me.

“Cole is not a psychopath.”

I knock on the front door of the tasting room—three firm raps that rattle the glass. There’s a clatter inside, followed by the scrape of something heavy being pushed across the floor. A second later the door swings open.

Cole fills the doorway, one hand braced casually against the frame. His dark hair is slightly mussed, like he’s run his hands through it a few times, and there’s a faint smear of something deep red across the front of his T-shirt—wine, I assume. A jagged shard of green glass is wedged into the tread of his boot.

“I take it you heard that?” he says. His voice is easy, but his mouth quirks like he knows exactly how loud it must have sounded. “Dropped an entire case of half-empty bottles.” He jerks his thumb vaguely over his shoulder toward the tasting room. “Fucking mess.”

Layla leans around me to peer inside. “Sounded worse than that.”

Cole glances down at the glass stuck to his boot and nudges it against the doorframe until it clinks loose onto the floor. “Yeah, pretty sure my eardrums shattered along with the bottles.”

Layla snorts.

I shift my weight as an awkward pause settles between us. For a moment, none of us says anything.

It’s strange. Cole—who always has something clever or mildly inappropriate ready to go—seems unnervingly quiet. Almost like he’s choosing his words carefully.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” I ask finally, mostly to break the awkward silence that’s settled between us.

His gaze flicks back to me. For a split second, something unreadable passes across his expression before he shakes hishead. “Nah.” He swipes a hand lazily through the air, dismissing the offer. “I’ve got it.”

“All right, then.” I step back. “Have fun with that.”

Layla is already tugging on my arm, ready to drag me back next door.

Cole lifts his hand in a loose wave as we start to turn away. “Sorry for the interruption, ladies.” His voice is light, almost teasing. But when I glance back over my shoulder, I find him looking directly at me. There’s a spark in his eyes now. Something amused. “It’s amazing how thin these walls are. All the things you hear. Loud things.” He tosses a wink at me before closing the door.

A prickly sensation scatters up my spine.

If Layla wasn’t already tugging on my arm, I’m not too sure I’d be able to move at all, frozen from the chilling realization that Cole overheard Layla and me.

But then again, maybe he didn’t. He’s always saying and doing ridiculous things to get a rise out of me.

He probably didn’t hear.

I’m almost positive.