Page 28 of Cole

Just when a lead was getting good, he left. Great.

I watched Finn go, before sliding off my stool.

“Bathroom?” I asked Asher, who was watching me without comment. He nodded toward the left. I picked up my purse and headed that way.

The evening was turning out to be another bust. I was so frustrated, I could cry, or punch something. Yeah, maybe punching something would feel better. If only Emmit, asshole editor extraordinaire, would show up so I could take out three years of frustration on him.

When I came out of the bathroom, I stopped in the hall to let some other women by and found myself facing a different direction. There was a corridor with a fire door at the end, and it was propped open. Beyond I could make out the gleam of cars and bikes, parked under fluorescent lights.

The shop.

If Cole Bailey had an office in this building, it would probably be in there. I found myself drifting that way before I could question the wisdom of it.

I slipped through the gap in the heavy metal fire door and into the auto shop. The smell of engine oil and burned rubber instantly hit my nose. It wasn’t horrible, strangely. I looked around cautiously, ready to duck back out if I saw anyone else in here. The place was chaotic, a jumble of car parts and tools littering surfaces and walls alike. There were bikes parked all around, all in various stages of repair, and a car was up high, the pit below lit up with a soft orange glow. I walked gingerly around the periphery of the shop. There was a corridor off the main floor with a row of lockers, and the farther on, a bathroom and an office. I stopped outside the office door. It was ajar. Blinds were drawn in the window, so I had no idea if someone was inside or not, but if they were, they were completely silent.

With my heart pounding hard in my chest so hard it hurt, I pushed the door open another inch and peered around the edge.

The office was empty. Relief made my shoulders slump, the surge of adrenaline flowing inside me making me shake. I really wasn’t cut out for this cloak-and-dagger stuff.

I pushed the door open a little wider and glanced around behind me. There was no one here.

This was my chance. Don’t be a wimp, Isabelle, I told myself sternly. You’re doing this to save Rosie from losing her son, don’t forget.

I stepped into the office as silently as possible, and closed the door as much as I could manage without turning the handle. The desk was actually pretty neat, considering the shop outside. Small piles of paperwork sat on the metal top, and there was a planner with stuff written in most of the days. I picked it up and looked at it. Small, precise letters filled the days, and it only took a moment to realize that there was no way I could decipher what was written. It was mostly names and times. One thing I understood.

Marcus. 8pm. HHU

That was a Hellions hockey match, I knew for sure, because I was going too.

I set the calendar down and looked at the paperwork. It was order forms for parts, and agreements on booze and wholesale food for The Clutch. Nothing interesting.

I wandered around the back of the desk, growing more confident the longer I went undiscovered. The desk had four drawers. All but one opened. The rest were filled with more paperwork. The last one was locked. I traced my finger over the keyhole. What would Cole have in his office that needed locking? I wanted to get inside that drawer so badly, but I had no idea how to start. I couldn’t pick a lock. I had no skills for this.

With a sigh, I leaned against the edge of the desk and looked around at the shelves behind it.

“Looking for something?” a deep voice mused, and I knew it was him immediately. That smoky, gravelly tone was undeniable. It was him and I was caught red-handed.

I straightened up so fast I banged my head against the hanging light, suspended over the desk.

Ouch. I put a hand to my head as I spun around. Alarm raced through me, making me hot. My muscles screamed at me to move, to get the hell out of here before it was too late, but that was dumb. It was already too late.

Cole lounged in the doorway, his eyes on me, barely blinking. He seemed too big and terrifying to be in this harmless office setting. As if a wolf had casually walked into a picnic area.

“I asked you what you’re doing here,” Cole continued. “And if I were you, I’d think really carefully about that answer.”

Shit. I was so screwed.

nine

COLE

“What are you doing back here?” I asked the girl. Belle.

I’d been down in the pit when she’d wandered into the shop. I’d watched her walk to my office unerringly and then step inside. She was a woman on a mission, and I really fucking wanted to know what that mission was. Maybe she really was a cop, though she’d be the youngest, sexiest one I’d ever seen.

After a week of absence from The Clutch, and only seeing her when her car broke down, I’d started to think that maybe she’d listened to my warning. But here she was.

I ignored the part of me that was satisfied to see her here… flouting my polite warnings, even knowing there’d be consequences. She reminded me of Goldilocks with her shining reddish, golden hair, fucking sneaking around in a house that wasn’t hers.