The heat in my cheeks refuses to leave.
“She’s really leaning into the handsome security part,” I mutter.
Cole hands me the phone. “I noticed.”
I glance up. Big mistake. His eyes are on me, not the screen now, and for a second the cottage does something impossible. It gets smaller and warmer and entirely too quiet.
“Sorry,” I say.
“For what?”
“My best friend objectifying you.”
“I’ll recover.”
“Very brave.”
“I’ve had training.”
The laugh that comes out of me is soft, but real.
Then his phone rings and the moment breaks.
He checks the screen. “Sloane.”
“Go ahead,” I say.
Cole steps onto the screened porch, not far enough that I can’t see him, but far enough to give me the illusion of privacy. I watch him through the glass as he talks, one hand on his hip, head slightly angled, body still except for the slow movement of his gaze over the dunes. He does that constantly … watches and measures.
I look back at my phone. Vanessa’s screenshot still fills the screen. Me smiling at The Salty Spoon. The girl beside me. Cole behind us, unaware and completely aware at the same time.
I should be worried about the caption. I am.
But I am also caught on the shape of him in the background. The quiet fact of his presence. The way he appears in the photo exactly as he has appeared in my life since yesterday morning. Not demanding attention. Still impossible to miss.
Another message from Vanessa appears.
Okay, I’ll stop teasing. Promise.
Vanessa has always worried about me. Through culinary school, through the rise of my show, through the first time someone followed me to my car after an event and I pretended it did not rattle me. She has always been there, fierce and loving.
I type back.
I’m okay. I promise. Cole is careful.
Vanessa’s reply comes seconds later.
Good. Careful men are useful. Attractive careful men are unfair, but I’ll allow it.
I smile despite myself. Cole comes back inside before I respond.
“Sloane wants the link to the post,” he says. “And any screenshots Vanessa sent.”
“Because of the town name?”
“Because information moved from a stranger’s phone to social media, then to Vanessa’s phone in under an hour.”
“But Vanessa follows my tags.”
