She stared up at him in astonishment. “Really?”
He smiled and nodded. In an instant, her heart ballooned inside her chest. She felt like she might float straight up off the mattress with joy.
“But what about the job in San Francisco?” she asked.
He paused. “I admit that’s a problem,” he murmured, hisvoice husky. “Now that I’ve got you back, I don’t want to let you go. Have any good ideas?”
She turned to face him, so close the tips of their noses were almost touching. “You need to do what you love, and I need to be here for Star,” she said, trying to be firm. But it was hard when he smelled so very tantalizing. She sniffed surreptitiously. Bacon. Difficult to resist a man who smelled like freshly ground coffee, salt, and bacon. “They say absence makes the heart grow fonder.” She cleared her throat, feeling flushed and disoriented. “Maybe we should see if it’s true?”
“I already tested that theory,” he told her, his tone mock serious. “And it’s true. I missed you more than I ever thought I could miss anyone ever again.” His eyes were locked on her, the glacial depths darkened with longing. “And if you hadn’t come back, I was seriously considering following you to Paris.”
“Really?” She was finding it hard to keep breathing. Was it suddenly very warm in the cabin?
Cole pulled back a little and looked at her. “From the moment I saw you in Paris, stuffing my tuxedo pocket full of barbecued pork, I thought you were the most gorgeous, infuriating woman I’d ever laid eyes on.” He paused, one side of his mouth quirking up just a little. “Je suis amoureux de toi,” he said in passable French.
I’m in love with you.
Georgia’s eyes widened. “Well, I think you’re the most obscenely handsome, stubborn, grumpy, yet secretly tenderhearted genius scientist turned oyster farmer I’ve ever laid eyes on,” she blurted out.
Cole laughed. “No one has ever described me like that.”
“You drive me crazy but I can’t seem to stop thinking about you,” Georgia continued. “Also, your French has definitely gotten better.”
He glanced down at her lips. “After the tuxedo debacle, I worked hard to improve so I didn’t end up with more pockets full of pork.” His eyes flashed with amusement. “I speak German too, and quite a bit of Japanese.” He seemed to be having trouble looking at anything but her mouth.
She leaned closer. “Tell me, is your kissing as good as your French?” she asked playfully. “I can’t quite remember.” He reached out and cupped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her toward him.
“Better,” he said, “definitely better,” and then he closed the gap and kissed her.
For the second time in as many weeks, Georgia felt the world shift around her. She could taste bacon and coffee and Cole. She gave a little squeak of surprise as he wrapped his other arm around her waist, pressing her closer, the springs squeaking under their weight. Nothing existed except the delicious, firm pressure of his mouth on hers. She twined her arms around his neck. He groaned, kissing her like it was his only purpose in life. She kissed him back. Georgia lost all track of time. It could have been a few seconds or a half hour when Cole broke the kiss.
“By the way, I meant to tell you,” he said, pulling back and breathing like he’d been sprinting the hundred-yard dash. “Anemone is looking for a new head chef again. Apparently, the chef they had, the one who cut her finger, was wanted in a string of burglaries in Florida. The police arrested her over the weekend. Myra texted me yesterday, wondered if I knew anyone.”
“Hmm...” Georgia traced her fingers down the side of his face, memorizing that chiseled jaw that looked cut from the pages of a magazine, those ice chip blue eyes that could warm her heart so readily. How was this real? she wondered briefly. How was it that only a short time ago she was on the ferry to thisisland brokenhearted, her life in ruins, and now she was here again, reunited with her mother and snug in the arms of this genuine, intelligent, gorgeous man who turned her knees to jelly? It felt too good to be true. She was reveling in every unexpected minute. She cocked her head. “Cooking at Anemone could be a good way to keep me occupied while you’re off in San Francisco,” she said, her tone tentative. She wondered if he’d pick up on the offer she was making.
He grinned, brushing a curl from her cheek. “Will it keep you out of trouble?”
“I’m not sure that’s possible,” she countered with a laugh. “Trouble seems to find me.”
“Just as long as I can find you too,” he murmured, pressing a kiss against her neck. “I can fly up here on the weekends. It’s not that far, right?”
“We’ll figure it out together,” Georgia promised, her heart soaring.
“That’s all I need to hear,” Cole said, then tilted her chin up and lowered his mouth to hers once more.
42
“What are theodds we’ll need two sets of salt and pepper shakers wherever we end up living?” Georgia knelt on the kitchen counter in Star’s old cottage and fished another set of salt and pepper shakers from the top shelf of the upper cabinets. She held up a set that looked like ceramic mushrooms and an expensive-looking cut-glass set with tarnished silver tops. “Which ones do you want to keep?”
Across the kitchen, Star looked up from the box of kitchen supplies she was taping closed and narrowed her eyes, considering. “Keep the mushrooms. Donate the glass ones. I got those mushrooms in Northern California when Justine and I were heading up the coast from Arizona. They remind me of our trip out here, searching for a place to call home.” She sat back on her heels and sighed, looking around the kitchen with a resigned air. “I thought I’d be ready to let this place go, but it hurts my heart to think of leaving it.”
Beside Star, Pollen lay sprawled on the laminate floor, dozing. At Star’s mournful tone, she raised her head and woofed gently, nudging Star’s knee with her wet black nose. On the radio, Joan Baez was warbling softly “The Wild Mountain Thyme.” Georgia frowned and carefully wrapped the mushrooms in a cloth napkin. If only she had come back sooner. If only she’d never left at all. Now they were left scrambling to find a place to rent as soon as the new owners took possession, but theyhadn’t found anywhere yet. She’d been back on the island a week, and they’d been looking every day with no luck. The pool of rental properties on the island was tiny and expensive, but they had no choice. Star had already signed the purchase agreement before Georgia arrived, and now the real estate agent was bringing the final paperwork for the sale over today for Star to sign. It was truly too late to save the cottage.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner,” Georgia said softly, her voice filled with regret.
Star pulled a stack of assorted baking dishes out of a lower cupboard and shook her head. “I was planning to move before you arrived. There was just no way I was going to be able to keep this old place after my diagnosis. And yes, it is hard to let it go, harder than I expected, but that’s life. We’ll find another place and make new memories there. The most important part is that we’re together.” Still, she looked a little wistful as she nestled a stack of loaf pans into a big cardboard box.
Georgia carefully set the glass salt and pepper shakers in the donate box and checked her phone. It was just her and Star around this afternoon. Cole was in San Francisco exploring the job opportunity he’d been offered. She was proud of him taking this big step to restart his life again, but she missed him fiercely and it had only been a few days. How were they going to survive being apart for much longer if he accepted the job? She checked her phone again. He had texted,Having sushi. Wish you were here.
