Harlequin Dare June 2021 Box Set, page 35
“I’m sorry, what?” she eventually got out. She thought of the pages and pages of Google images of Cole with different women on his arm and was still astounded by two years of celibacy. Taking his previous playboy lifestyle into account, this was a man who had taken himself off the market in a very serious way.
A corner of his wide mouth quirked and she liked that he was always so quick to smile even though she knew now it hid so much. For knowing a person for only two days she already felt closer to him than to people she’d known for years, knew what it was like to loathe oneself.
“I haven’t felt like it,” Cole said with a shrug. “It’s just not something I’ve wanted to do, but I like you, Blair. I don’t know how chemistry works but we definitely have it and I’d say that’s pretty rare.”
“So you want to sleep together, leave tomorrow and never see each other again?” she clarified for posterity’s sake.
His eyes widened, shocked that she’d put it so bluntly, she guessed. “It doesn’t mean that we won’t ever see each other again, but I’m on the road a lot so I couldn’t be certain about when the next time would be.”
As a rule, Blair wasn’t really a one-night stand type of person, but she had to admit it had crossed her mind yesterday. And today she’d woken up wondering why she hadn’t just agreed to dinner with him. She’d had fun yesterday and in trying to remember if she’d ever had that much fun with anyone she’d dated, she’d come up empty. She didn’t deserve it, probably, but it didn’t mean she didn’t want it.
One thing would stop things dead in their tracks, however. “How can I be sure you’re not married?”
The way Cole’s head shot back so quickly was comical and she thought he’d given himself a mild case of whiplash, but then he choked out, “Trust me, I am not married. I have never been married, and at the rate I was going before, I’ll never be married.”
Not exactly a good attitude for a life partner, but a fine one for someone she’d never have to see again. In that respect, Cole was ideal. They could hook up and there’d be no awkward run-ins at the grocery store, no gossip circulating to the other vintners in the area, no expectation of seeing each other again. And bonus, if the sex was awful, he was leaving and she wouldn’t have to pretend to let him down easy.
Except she was pretty positive sex with Cole would be anything but awful.
But apparently he had more to say. “Nor, if I was married, by the way, would I cheat on my partner, which is another reason I haven’t gotten married. However, if you’d like to be sure, you can check the marriage records. You won’t find my name in their database.”
Blair wasn’t unmoved by his speech and the earnestness in which it had been delivered, but she wasn’t going to be fooled again so she did a quick search on her phone as he watched in amusement.
“Darling, you can search the marriage records for all fifty states and the world, but you’re not going to find my name anywhere. Plus, you could do a general internet search for me and marriage and still come up empty. And that’s how you really know. You’d better believe if I went to the trouble of getting married, I’d blast that news all over the tabloids and beyond. Cole Taggart Finally Loses His Mind, the headlines would say, and the picture would just be me with a white veil tied around my neck like a noose.”
Blair rolled her eyes at his nonsense, but he did have a good point. Someone in the public eye as he was would have definitely made the news with a marriage. Nevertheless, she did a couple more marriage record searches as well as a couple of Google searches to be sure and came up with nothing. Meanwhile, he continued to munch on popcorn and drink wine, his eyes never leaving her.
“I pity the woman you do finally end up marrying,” she told him, her tone beyond bland. “Not only will she have to deal with you but you’ll also just keep reminding her every five minutes how much of a favor you’re doing her.”
“I suppose if I ever meet a woman with enough bolts loose to agree to marry me, I’ll do my best to shape up. My parents are still happily married, after all. Thirty-seven years and still counting. So if I thought my life could ever settle down I might consider it.”
“I’ll believe that you’re not married but how do I know you don’t have a girlfriend or fiancée somewhere?” Admittedly, Blair felt embarrassingly paranoid asking but she absolutely would not do that to another woman again. She’d learned that it was on her to check the men she slept with. Relying on males to tell the whole truth when the possibility of sex was on the table was like asking a kid to put a cookie back once their hand was already in the jar.
Cole reached for her hand. “Blair, I know you have no reason to believe me, but I haven’t had sex and/or even laid a hand on a woman since the day my brother died.”
Blair sighed. Maybe it was enough that she’d done her due diligence, contacting family members sounded a step too far. After all, at some point she’d need to trust her instincts again.
“I believe you,” she finally said. “And yesterday after you cried when I refused to have dinner with you, my search on you was pretty extensive and there wasn’t a mention of marriage.”
“I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a liar,” he said. Cole took her hand in his and her eyes fluttered, wanting to close at the heated contact. He was just so big and warm and there and like a breath of fresh, uncomplicated air in a life that had gotten far too complicated. “Look, I know something shitty happened with an ex, but I promise you that I would never try to screw over the person I’ve had the most fun with in a long damned time.”
“I had fun too,” she admitted with a wry smile. “Despite my better judgment.”
“Well, that’s not the first time someone has liked me in spite of knowing better,” Cole laughed. “But why don’t you think of me as the loaf of bread you made me eat between wines yesterday. A good palate cleanser before you start your next serious relationship. I’m a carb, which means I’m delicious to eat but too much of a good thing isn’t smart, but singularly perfect for a one-night indulgence.”
Blair laughed because how could she not? The man was charming and he would be as good as the freshly baked bread they had delivered to the winery every day that she made herself not eat.
But she deserved bread, damn it. Everyone deserved bread sometimes, in fact!
She probably should just go ahead and stuff her face. Yes, she’d regret it a little tomorrow but not enough to stop her from having it again in the future.
“Drink the rest of your wine,” she ordered, because they did not waste wine on this vineyard. Except in the spit buckets, but even then it hurt her a little because she’d grown those grapes, lovingly watched over them and the soil beneath, saw them through the fermentation process, all the way to the uncorking. It was necessary to spit sometimes, but the pragmatist in her was too strong not to feel a tinge of regret.
“Yes, ma’am,” Cole said, leaning back on the loveseat and putting his feet up. “Now, I feel honor bound to tell you before any of this gets started that I am not an easy fellow in the sheets.”
“Of course not, I wouldn’t expect you to be a completely different person in bed than you are in life.”
That comment was rewarded with a huge grin. “Hell, Blair, you’re a treasure.”
While a joke, it felt like a compliment to Blair, who for one reason or another had been known to be a challenging person herself. She hadn’t grown their wine to worldwide success by being easy, after all. It was probably why she’d accepted so little from the relationships in her life—she’d just been thankful someone found her tolerable.
His arm came around the back of her seat and it felt like a line had been crossed and there was no going back. The bounds of politeness had been breached. They were touching and she liked it, and yes, her body wanted very much more of it.
“Where are you going after this?” she asked, bringing things back to the ordinary.
“Spain,” he said. “Barcelona to be precise.”
“Do you like announcing?”
He gazed out into the dark vineyard beyond, the butter-colored dirt standing out in relief against the darker rows of vines. “I like it well enough but not so much that I want to keep traveling to do it much longer. Hence the winery.”
“Sounds like you’ve got a plan,” she said, wondering idly what she’d be doing if she couldn’t make wine and literally coming up with nothing. Could one eat cheese professionally? Seemed improbable. “So I know why you hate racing now, but don’t you miss it a little?”
Cole’s head shook immediately, but then he blew out an audible breath. “How the hell should I know? I’d never let myself race again regardless, but I do love to drive fast.”
“I have a car and there are roads on our property no one drives on, you could show me just how fast you are.”
That arm behind her, resting innocently against her back, curled in as he moved forward and before she could blink, she was being hauled into his lap looking down at his satisfied face. “That’s how fast I am, sweetheart.”
From her new vantage point, lots of things were suddenly very clear to her. First, he was larger than he looked. Two, straddling him was erotic and he liked it too. And three, there was no stopping this now because her body would revolt if she tried to move. His thighs were thick and strong against hers, his chest was unmoving as her hands pressed against it, and his eyes held hers when she might have looked away.
“I have an idea,” he said, “to make this fun and so we don’t get too serious and fall in love with each other.”
Her eyebrow rose. “I wouldn’t worry about that.” Cole huffed another laugh. “Yeah, well, do it for my poor little old heart then, Blair. You’ve nearly got me on my knees for one night with you, who knows what two nights might bring.”
A good compliment that had her asking, “What’s your proposal then?”
He met her eyes, a dark brow winging upward in challenge. “A game of truth or dare.”
Blair, who had been preoccupied with the flex of his thigh muscles under her own and not giving his words too much attention, sat up straight and choked, “Pardon me?”
“You know,” he said, “like truth or dare. We’ll go back and forth and choose truth or dare until one of us wins.”
“How do you win truth or dare?”
Cole’s eyes waggled. “I think we both know how you win this particular game of truth or dare.” At Blair’s groan, his hand came around the back of her neck and drew her gaze down to his. “You win when the other person won’t answer your question or complete your dare.”
“What’s the prize for winning?” Blair asked, still skeptical and ready for another lewd reference to having sex with him being the prize.
But to her surprise, he just shrugged. “I promise not to bother you afterward.”
“A big sacrifice for you, I’m sure.”
His thumb started caressing the back of her neck and suddenly Blair found it difficult to think. “You never know,” he said, staring at her mouth, “we could fall in love right here on this porch and I’d be unable to ever contact you again. A lost love for the ages.”
Blair snorted but found herself scooting closer to him, wanting to feel the rest of his body against hers. “I’ll go first,” she declared. “I choose dare.”
“That’s my girl.” Cole grinned, meeting her eyes again. “As you know I like a daring woman.”
Blair just stared at him, not condoning his ill-conceived flattery. “The semi-insulting word you used earlier was mouthy,” she reminded.
He leaned in, his mouth so close to hers, and she waited for the kiss, her body primed and ready to go. Except his lips never fell and instead she heard him whisper, “I dare you to pour me another glass of wine.”
Blair’s nostrils flared. “You know you’re the worst, right?”
Cole’s shoulders were shaking in laughter and his hand drifted down her back. “Yeah, I’m well aware. Does your irritation mean you’re refusing to complete the dare?”
Instead of answering, Blair reached over and opened the additional bottle of wine she’d brought out earlier, poured it and then handed it to him. “I really hope you don’t choke.”
She’d heard Cole lightly chuckle before and he was always quick with a grin, but when he threw his head back with laughter she grinned too, enjoying the rich sound echo into the night beyond them. They were all alone on her porch with no one around, only the fireflies to see them, and it felt cozy yet also somehow illicit to be outside about to do who knows what in the outdoors.
Sobering slowly, he took a drink of the wine, making a big deal to swallow without incident and when he was finished, she said patronizingly, “Good job.”
He was still grinning when he said, “Your turn. I choose dare.”
It would be sweet justice to torture him the way he’d done to her and it was all part of the game anyway, the anticipation, the one-upmanship. “I dare you to take your clothes off and run down one of the rows of grapes out there.” Then she added out of consideration for his safety, “You can keep your shoes on.”
He met her eyes, his green ones dark in the dim light of the porch. “I’ll need a good reward for that, princess.”
Blair’s eyes closed at the goofy endearment. She’d already figured out that he put on that Southern act when he wanted to annoy her. Incidentally, it worked.
Rising from his lap she stepped back and hoisted herself up on the porch railing to watch the upcoming show.
Holding her eyes, he unbuttoned his crisp blue shirt, the light glinting off his silver watch. Once that was on the ground, he reached behind him and pulled off his T-shirt and she just shook her head.
“That shirt move is so obvious,” she taunted. “Absolutely shameless.”
Undeterred but amused, he dropped the shirt on the floor with the first and she found her gaze riveted to what he’d revealed, the hard pecs, the dark hair covering his chest and arrowing down beneath his pressed gray pants. He looked effortlessly expensive and athletic and hard in all the right places.
“You know, people complain about stuff being obvious, but you eat apples, don’t you? Those are delicious and I don’t see anyone complaining about how they’re over apples because everyone eats them.”
“Deep thoughts, Cole,” Blair said, nodding. “Maybe you should write a philosophy book sometime. But for now, why don’t you take your pants off instead?”
“Hell, Blair, can’t a guy ease into nudity?” He scratched the back of his head like he was embarrassed. “I’m ready to get things rolling but it sure would be easier if you’d take a little something off too.”
She shook her head. “You had your chance to get me out of my clothes,” she reminded him. “Instead you chose to aggravate me and have me pour you a glass of wine. Seems like you got yourself into quite a pickle.”
Then she nodded in the direction of his pants and pointed down to the ground with her finger. His eyes alight, he gave her one last look of disbelief before unbuckling his black leather belt, way more slowly than was necessary, before dropping it on the loveseat behind him. That finished, as if his fingers were broken, he played with the button of his pants, seemingly trying and failing to get the button through the hole multiple times before it poked through.
Then, obviously, the zipper was temperamental, a full minute passing as he struggled to get it unstuck.
“Have you used clothes before?” she asked, arms crossed over her chest now. “I hope you don’t plan to become a male erotic dancer anytime soon because I’m not sure it’s the career for you.”
The final rasp of his zipper sounded and her eyes zoomed back to his crotch, seeing that he was already stiff behind his pants. It crossed Blair’s mind that he might actually be truly embarrassed or shy. But then she was reminded of the wealth of pictures of him on the internet where he’d been partying flagrantly seminude and decided he was more probably just messing with her.
Achingly slowly, he pushed down his pants, finessing them over his tobacco wingtips before dropping them on top of his shirts and belt. Their eyes met as his hands played with the elastic of his blue boxer briefs, the final piece of clothing and indisputably the most important.
“You’re sure I’m not going to run into something out there that will maim me?”
Blair thought of the vines. Most of them were strung up with wire but she couldn’t truly be sure something wouldn’t slap him. It would be difficult to see in the dark and it felt cruel to make him venture out there. She was a hard-ass, but she wasn’t without mercy.
“You can leave those on too.”
“You’re a good woman, Blair Sandoval,” he breathed in relief, giving her a salute of gratitude. Then he made his way off the porch, and Blair had never considered herself someone interested in the male form before, but leave it to Cole to prove her wrong. Even his back had muscles, and really nice ones.
“I thought you drove cars and talked for a living. Where’d you get so built?”
“A gym, Blair,” he said to her as if she were a child. “The place where people exercise. I have a trainer and everything.” Then that grin again. “Incidentally, she likes my ass too.”
Blair just pressed her lips together and watched him as he made his way toward one of the vine rows. “Do you want a flashlight?” she called.
“Nah, the moon is bright enough,” he said, then turned around to face her on the porch. “You gonna signal the horn or should I go anytime?”
She made a hooting sound and started laughing the moment he began running, a string of curses floating behind him as he went.
