AllFreeNovel
Share Us
What if Cole Ashford’s all in. Do you say yes?
My heart’s beating faster.
“Do I get a thank you kiss?” Cole asks, his husky voice teasing me with my own words.
I look him in the eye and tell him the truth. “If I kiss you right now, I don’t think I could stop.”
The gala is heldin a museum I’ve been to before. The L’Art, which has modern and contemporary pieces from some of my favorite artists around the world. It’s a relatively small museum, compared to some of the other museums in New York. Tonight, it’s packed with rich, glittering people. It’s a three-story building with a glassed-in courtyard at its heart.
A few of the exhibits are open, but most of the gala is happening in the courtyard.
Cole catches me craning my head to look down a hallway.
“Plotting your escape already?” he murmurs.
“Just wishing we could see more of the art. This place has one of my favorite paintings on display.”
“Really?” Cole asks, interested. “Which is it?”
“It’s in the Busch wing,” I say, and watch him smile.
“Say that again when we meet my mother,” he says. “Let’s get some drinks.”
Fifteen minutes later we’re tucked away in a corner sipping the best champagne I’ve ever had in my life. Cole’s dryly telling me a story about Kiera wreaking havoc at school this week, and I’m laughing so hard I’m struggling not to spill my drink, when a stately woman in an evening gown sweeps up in front of me.
“Cole, you must introduce me to this enchanting creature,” she says. Her voice is carefully modulated like an old black and white movie star. She's tall and striking with Cole’s coloring. She looks like she’s in her sixties, with silver streaking through her dark brown hair.
Unlike Cole’s dad, she has smile lines around her eyes. But there’s a sharpness in her gaze that makes me wary.
“Of course,” Cole says smoothly. “Mom, this is Amelia Maguire. Amelia, this is my mother, Jacqueline Busch.”
“Yes, the fiancée.” There’s a trace of skepticism in the way she saysfiancée. But her smile is flawless as she leans in to give me air kisses.
And then I register her last name. My favorite gallery in this museum is named after Cole’s mom.
The surrealness of the night sinks in. Cole’s family puts their name on museum wings.
I go to museums on the one day a month when they offer discounted tickets to the public.
Jacqueline takes my arm and guides me toward our table. I resist the urge to shoot a panicked look at Cole.
“So,” Jaqueline says smoothly. “What things should I know about my future daughter in law, who magically appeared in my son’s hour of need?”
I choke on my champagne.
“Mother,” Cole says sternly.
“What?” Jaqueline says blandly. “I merely meant that she swept into your life when you were alone and in need of afeminine touch to save you from that dratted office. I wasn’t referencing your little difficulty with the upcoming board vote.”
“Of course you weren’t,” Cole says dryly. He meets my gaze.
His momdefinitelyhas our number. But unlike his dad, she doesn’t seem to mind the deception.
She spends the dinner asking me about myself. Where I went to school, whether I’m close with my family, whether I’ve been married before. Her questions are so briskly confident, I answer them automatically, even the nosy ones.
Cole barely has a chance to get a word in edgewise. Not that he’s trying very hard. He’s spent the meal with his hand on my thigh, twisting and toying with the fabric of my skirt. The casually possessive gesture is comforting and arousing at the same time.
We’re halfway through the dessert course—a rich chocolate mousse I could swoon over—when Jaqueline finally runs out of questions for me.
