Cole. It’s been a while.”
“Little Jessie Huell,” he said, his voice filled with wonder.
She was beautiful. Her lips twisted and she raised an eyebrow. “Not so little anymore.”
As if he needed to be reminded. For some reason, he thought that if he called her little, he might see her as that. Idiot. Was it really Jessie Huell’s mouth he’d just imagined on his own?
She walked toward him slowly. Every step reminding him how long it was since he’d been attracted to someone. A year and a half. A year and a half since his wife had left.
“I bought you a Coke.” The gesture seemed lame now. Men didn’t bring this woman soft drinks. They brought her jewelry.
A soft smile touched her lips. “Like when we studied Latin?”
He nodded as the scent of her ambushed him. She smelled like sunshine, and he was transported back to a time when his whole life had stretched golden before him. A time when the mistakes you made were on geometry tests and missed free throws, not with your life.
“De oppresso liber,” she murmured, as her fingers wrapped around the can.
The phrase meant “Free from having been oppressed.” Once, he’d been leaving the garage for their Latin study session. He’d kept her waiting for over forty minutes. She’d gasped when he stretched out in the booth across from her, sporting the beginnings of a black eye. He hadn’t gotten out of his father’s way fast enough that time.
She hadn’t said a thing. Simply wrote the phrase on his notebook. Then below that, she’d written Someday in English. Someday. She didn’t know it, but he’d held on to that bit of encouragement with everything he had. Sometimes it was all he had.
Together, they’d sipped their Cokes in silence. The sun had set, and the crickets started to chirp. With his eye nearly swollen shut, he hadn’t needed another thing but Jessie’s quiet understanding.
That memory told him how dangerous his attraction for her would be. Because he couldn’t need anything. Too many needed him already. A pair of little girls depended on him to make the right decisions.
He dropped his hand from the soda, took a step away from the teasing scent that beckoned to him, and closed his mind to the past. He could do without having his emotions stripped bare right now.
Jessie popped the top of the can and took a sip. “I’ve switched to diet, but every now and then I miss the taste of Coke with sugar. Of course, you probably hear this kind of talk from all the women in the office and your wife.”
“I’m not married.”
She looked up at him sharply.
It was the first time Jessie’s smile slipped.
3
THE ONE THING that had been holding her back from making a complete idiot of herself over seeing him was now gone.
Cole Crawford wasn’t married.
Damn, she really should have paid more attention to her mother’s newsy e-mails about her hometown. That might have prevented the shakiness she felt right now.
Turning, she took a large swallow of pop. The sweet drink gave her body an instant jolt.
Who was she kidding? Cole gave her that jolt. She’d crushed on him big-time. But he’d gone off to college, found someone new and gotten married. Jessie had forced all her feelings for him into a hidden corner of her mind and locked them there.
Now that lock was open and hope was chasing away the shadows. She was suddenly having all kinds of amazing fantasies. Okay, she was playing something far more dangerous than The Speculation Game; instead, she was sporting around in Exaggeration Land. Grrr.
Cole followed her into the conference room, then pulled out one of the chairs at the long table, offering her a seat. At least she could give her weakened knees a break.
Jesse tried to smile politely rather than glare at him. He was supposed to be in some far-off, remote place, being untouchable and gorgeous.
He wasn’t supposed to be right here in Atlanta, being single and a buffet of lick-me kiss-me carnality. If he had to be somewhere near her, he could have at least been sporting a large, protruding gut over those khakis.
She’d bet Cole’s abs would make any male model run home and cry for his mommy.
Dammit.
She took a measured breath. Yes, she was being ridiculous. She was a mature woman who’d built a business from the ground up. And she was here to discuss that business. “Did you want to ask me a few questions?” she said, thrilled that her voice sounded so unaffected.
His eyes narrowed, then he seemed to notice the notebook in his hand, and gave a chagrinned shrug. “I was just getting over the grown-up you. I was expecting braids.”
“I hope I wouldn’t still be wearing the Laura Ingalls look at my age,” she said, as she watched him slide into the chair opposite from her.
“So tell me about your job,” he began, after giving her legs one last look. “You’re a P.I.?”
“I dig up dirt.”
He raised an eyebrow questioningly. “What if you can’t find any?”
Why did people never believe? All the naiveté… Sometimes it made her a little sad. But it was good for business. “Everyone has dirt. Some you sweep under a rug and forget about. Some you bury alive.”
His hazel eyes challenged her. “Think you could dig up any dirt on me?” he asked, his voice lower. More sensual.
She stopped herself from sucking in a breath. While some girls went for the cute boys, the tall basketball players or the preppy charmers, Jessie had always been a sucker for the guys who liked fast cars. The rebels without a cause. Yeah, fast and dangerous. That was all Cole Crawford.
He may have smoothed out the edges, but underneath, she sensed the danger still lurked.
And she still went for it.
Her agency had been created to protect women just like her. Those who liked a man with a bit of an edge. Would she find dirt on this man? She could guarantee it.
“I bet I could have a juicy bit on you in less than thirty seconds,” she told him with a laugh. Her body liking the idea of the challenge.
The hazel of his eyes darkened to brown. She’d forgotten about his beautiful eyes—sometimes green, sometimes brown, depending on his thoughts.
Mmm, no, she hadn’t forgotten; she’d just wanted to.
Any woman would take a moment and bask in the sheer pleasure of his gaze. Savor it like some delicious dessert. Chocolate and Cole’s eyes. Two things a gal could never get enough of.
His knee accidentally brushed hers as he shifted in his chair. Sensation raced down her leg, and she stared at him. There
