“I think I’ll take a quick dip.”
My neck wrenched enough to give me whiplash. I shook the images of death and destruction from my head. “What?” I asked, staring stupidly at Cole. Instead of answering me, he set the book aside, stood, and in one fluid movement, pulled off his T-shirt.
And I found myself gaping at the chest of a man.
I’d never seen anything like it. Not in real life. Not up close. I was an only child without a father. I hadn’t grown up with any men. Mama’s father, Grandpa Frank, had died when I was four, and even though I remembered him, I didn’t remember seeing him with his shirt off.
But I couldn’t’ imagine he would have looked anything like Cole Whitehurst.
Golden skin stretched over hills and valleys of muscle. His stomach was both flat and ridged as he moved. My scandalized eyes fell to the shockingly dark trail of hair that started below is navel and disappeared under his swim trunks. I jerked my gaze up to escape that sinister trail, and I saw he also had a faint dusting of dark hair around each flat nipple, and those nipples, I noticed, were the same pale pink of his lips.
I’d known what beauty was my whole life, but I’d never seen beauty so raw, wild, and dangerous as I did in his half-naked body. The sight terrified me. And I was glad it only lasted an instant. Because an instant after he swept off his shirt, Cole jumped into the pool.
And I, thank God, returned to my senses.
He broke the water’s surface after his cannonball, pushed back his now wet-darkened hair, and beamed.
“You’re crazy,” I told him. “That water has to be freezing.”
Cole gave a careless shrug. “It’s cold, but it’s a good cold.”
I pulled a face. “A good cold? There’s no such thing.” I could stay outside all summer. In August or September, most students complained when a classroom had a busted AC. Not me. That was the only time I didn’t need a sweater at school.
“Yeah,” he said with a doubtful shake of his head. “You probably wouldn’t be able to handle it.”
My teeth ground together. “You’re just saying that to get me to jump in.”
His mouth twitched. “You’re an easy target, Cormier. You always have been.”
I saw red. “And you’re a jerk.Youalways have been.”
Cole threw back his head with a laugh.
“You know what’s different, though?” I observed with a scowl. “You’re less grumpy. But more annoying.”
This made him laugh harder. Cole swam to the edge of the pool and with one powerful thrust, he hoisted himself onto the ledge. Water streamed down his body, the muscles in his back and his obliques now standing out as he pivoted.
I pulled my eyes away from the confusing allure of his form, hating the heat it brought to my cheeks.
“There’s a reason for that,” he said, his voice dropping low.
I turned my gaze back to his, willing myself to focus only on his eyes. They’d always reminded me of icebergs and frost. Nothing alluring about that. “A reason for what?”
He blinked water from his lashes, the corners of his eyes crinkling with a smile. “For why I’m less grumpy.”
I knew he was just going to say something annoying, but I didn’t see any way around it. “Oh, yeah?” I asked, sounding bored on purpose.
“I bought a gun.”
My spine shot up, arrow straight. “Youwhat?”
Still dripping, Cole stood and grabbed the towel draped on the back of his lounger. He looped it over his shoulders before scrubbing his hair the way someone would dry a dog. “I bought a handgun.” His gaze never left mine. His mouth smiled, but the smile didn’t crimp the corners of his eyes the way it had before. “And the day I got my conceal-and-carry permit, I walked into Garrett’s office, shut the door so his secretary wouldn’t pee herself, and I pulled it out.”
My heart was beating from somewhere, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t in its assigned place in my chest. Maybe the organ had traded places with my tonsils. I opened my mouth to say something, and it hung open for a good five seconds.
“Wh-what did you say?”
His features hardened further, and his blue eyes drifted away from mine — just a fraction, but enough to show me he was seeing a memory.
