“No man has ever done anything remotely as nice as this for me ever,” I say out loud, in front of everyone. My voice comes out softer than I mean it to, a little cracked.
The table goes quiet for a beat, just the sound of forks on plates, someone clearing their throat. No one teases. No one pushes. They just let it sit there, warm and real.
We all continue eating, the conversation picking back up around me like a gentle current. Then I hear the front door open, heavy boots on the wood floor. I look up.
Cole comes in filthy—head to toe covered in dirt and sweat, shirt clinging to his chest, sleeves rolled up showing those strong forearms streaked with grime. He looks exhausted. Hot. Sweaty. Gorgeous in that rugged, worked-hard way that makes my thighs clench under the table. He grabs a plate from the sideboard, piles it high without a word, and drops into the chair next to me. Pours himself a glass of sweet tea, takes a long drink. I can’t stop staring. I’m smiling huge—childlike, unstoppable grin.
“Why are you smiling like that?” He chuckles, low and rough, glancing sideways at me.
“I don’t know,” I say, still beaming. “You make me smile.”
He looks up, glances around the table at everyone watching us with barely-hidden smirks, then drops his eyes back to his food. I’m still staring. Can’t help it.
“You’re just gonna stare at me until I show you what it is, aren’t you?”
“Yup,” I say immediately.
He shovels his food in—fast, efficient—then scoots his chair back, downs the rest of his sweet tea in one go.
“Alright everybody, follow me.”
And we all get up one by one, chairs scraping, plates left for later and follow him out to see whatever it is Cole Marshall has been working on all week.
We are walking down the stone and gravel path that’s right outside the guest house backyard, the little rocks shifting under our boots with that satisfying crunch, the evening air still warm from the day but starting to cool at the edges. As soon as I see it, my eyes light up and I gasp, loud, involuntary, hand flying to my mouth.
Maggie takes off running, shrieking with pure joy. Luke’s right on her heels, yelling like he’s ten years old again. The family is so happy, screams, laughter, splashing already echoing and me? I’m speechless. My feet keep moving on their own, drawn toward it like a magnet. It’s an in-ground pool, clean lines, perfect rectangle of turquoise water glowing from the inside lights, soft blue-white beams rippling across the bottom like underwater stars. Wide stairs curve down one side for easy entry, a sturdy ladder in the deep end. Lounge chairs with thick cushions are already set up, bright floats bobbing lazily, a small table with an umbrella for shade, and a sweet little bench swing dangling from a wooden beam, swaying gently in the breeze. It’s everything I teased about wanting, turned into something real and beautiful.
Maggie and Luke jump in before Cole can even finish yelling, “It’s going to be a little cold!”
“Feels great!” Luke shouts back, surfacing with a huge grin, water streaming off his hair.
John slaps Cole on the back, hard and proud. “You did good, kid.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Cole says, voice rough but pleased, the corner of his mouth twitching up.
I’m smiling so wide watching everyone, family splashing, teasing, already claiming the space like it’s always been theirs.Then I glance over, and Cole’s watching me. Not the chaos, not the water. Just me. Those steady eyes locked on, soft in the glow of the pool lights, like I’m the only thing that matters right now.
“Did you build this for me?”
He shrugs his shoulders… and smiles—small, almost shy, but real.
“Thank you,” I can barely get the words out. I’m so choked up my voice cracks.
This is amazing. Nobody has ever done something so thoughtful and sweet just because I said I wanted it, offhand, teasing, like it was nothing. My chest aches with it, eyes stinging hot. I grab his face with both hands, right there in front of everyone, and kiss him, deep, grateful, tasting sweet tea and him.
I pull back just enough to look deep in his eyes and whisper “thank you” again, slow, making sure he really hears me, really feels every ounce of what this means to me.
That’s when he picks me up, strong hands sliding under my thighs and back, lifting me effortless.
“Oh my god, Cole put me down!” I’m squealing and laughing, legs kicking, arms clinging around his neck.
“You need to cool off right?” He says, voice all low tease, eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Cole! I swear to god!” I squeal again and woosh! He tosses me straight in.
Water rushes over my head, cool shock flooding every sense, filling my ears with that underwater hush. I open my eyes, the lighting is beautiful, soft beams dancing across the smooth bottom, bubbles rising around me like tiny stars. I surface gasping, laughing, shoving wet hair back out of my face, mascara probably running like crazy.
Before I can even pretend to scream at him, he does a massive cannonball right next to me, the splash wave crashingover my head. I lunge to dunk him, he’s too fast. Grabs my legs under the water, yanks me close, wraps them tight around his waist. My arms loop around his neck on instinct. We’re pressed together, chest to chest, water dripping from his lashes, faces inches apart.
