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I roll my eyes. “I’m happy to say that I don’t even know what that means. I think you’re just looking for something to be crabby about.”
He leans in very close. “I bet you’re a sheltered little brat who hasn’t ever seen much of the real world.”
My mouth opens and a sound of disbelief comes bursting from my throat.
“You’re not even close to being right. You don’t know me from Adam.”
“I know your kind!” he hisses.
“You–.”
My words are muffled as Cole slides his arm around me, jerks me to him, and covers my lips with his. My eyes go wide, and my body is completely rigid as he kisses me deeply, plundering my mouth.
Then, as suddenly as he kissed me, he pulls back and pushes me off.
“What the hell?” he mutters, glaring at me. He shoots to his feet, roots around in his wallet, and drops a hundred-dollar bill on the counter.
“I should be the one saying that,” I say, frowning.
But Cole just storms past me, leaving his tuxedo jacket behind as he pushes out the door. I watch as he gets into a gray Mercedes and peels off, leaving the parking lot in a plume of gravel and dust.
What the hell? I touch my lips, still feeling the heat of Cole’s kiss on my lips.
3
Cole
Six Months Later
Driving up the windy coastal highway that leads to Cape Simon feels timeless. The top is down on my convertible. The sun spills over everything, saturating the early afternoon with color. The sky is robin’s egg blue, dappled with wisps of white clouds. The cool wind whips around my head and yanks at my shirt.
I can’t see the beach from the highway at this point, but I know from the crabgrass and the dark sandy soil that we are practically on top of it.
A deep breath of salt-laden air in my lungs reminds me that I’m still alive.
My phone vibrates. I check it and see that Holly is calling. Silencing it, I flip the phone over on my passenger seat.
She’s calling to talk about taking custody of Charlie. And I am dodging her attempts at communicating.
Holly has continually iced me out for a solid six months. Ever since she pulled off a vanishing act while I was standing at the altar of our expensive wedding, I’ve been left to tend to Charlie alone. I’m not about to pick up Holly’s calls now that she’s suddenly decided that she’s interested in being a mom again.
I look out over the road and push her from my thoughts. Life is simpler here. Purer, somehow, than living in the smog-ridden, traffic-congested heart of Atlanta could ever be.
I hit the edge of town and slow when I see the signs. Cape Simon, Georgia. Est. 1598. Pop. 7460. Speed limit 30.
I am home.
“Daddy?”
I look over my shoulder. My four-year-old son, Charlie, is just waking up, his mop of dark hair wild and his ocean-blue eyes sleepy. He is wearing his favorite T-shirt with a huge yellow truck emblazoned on it, and a pair of dark pajama pants. Not my ideal outfit by any means, but I wasn’t willing to fight with him about it.
Not today when we’re leaving the only home he’s ever known, and not planning to return.
“Hey, kiddo. Did you have a good nap?”
He frowns at me. “I gotta potty.”
“We’re about ten minutes from seeing Big Daddy and Mimi. Can you make it?”
