Pocketful of Sand

“Hello?” I call to announce my presence.

 

“In here!” comes the harried response.

 

I head to the bathroom, not knowing what to expect. What I find nearly buckles my knees. Holy mother of God! It’s Eden. In the bathtub. On her knees. Dripping wet. Covered only in a soggy towel that outlines her every curve in the most mouthwatering way.

 

It takes me a second to speak. I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. What is it about this woman that makes me want her so badly? After all this time, after all the women who’ve tried, why her? Why now?

 

I don’t have the answers to any of those questions. I only know that my whole body is tight as a damn drum just looking at her.

 

“Can you please shut off the water?” she sputters, drawing me back into thinking mode.

 

Immediately, I turn and head back outside, around to the side of the house to the water main where it’s buried in the yard with the meter. I twist the handle to close the valve and turn to go back inside, leaving the cover off until I’m ready to cut the water back on.

 

In the bathroom, I find that the flow is already tapering off and Eden is breathing a little more easily. The muscles in her thin arms are straining under her water-slicked skin. Her breasts are heaving behind the knot in her towel. It’s hard as all hell to drag my eyes back to her face.

 

But her face…God, she’s beautiful! Her hair is jet black, like her daughter’s, and her skin is porcelain cream. Even when it’s not wet, it has a satiny sheen that makes my fingers itch to touch. Her nose is small and delicate and her lips are pink and lush. But it’s her eyes that get to me. The way she watches me, the look that shines from the hazel depths. It’s like she can see right through me.

 

Even now, when she turns to me after the water has stopped and she has let her tired arms fall to her sides, her eyes draw me in. Hold me right where I’m standing. They won’t let me go. And part of me doesn’t want them to.

 

Her lips break into an exhausted smile. “Phew! That was quite a bath.” Emmy giggles around her thumb and Eden winks at her. An odd contentment spreads through me, like the steamy warmth of the bathroom is heating my insides. My heart ties itself into a knot of a million emotions. And my stomach clenches around only one.

 

Betrayal.

 

Betrayal of my daughter. Her memory. I can’t be happy. Not without her. If she can’t be here and be happy, then neither can I. I made her a promise. And I intend to keep it.

 

 

 

 

 

ELEVEN

 

 

Eden

 

 

 

FOR JUST A second, I thought I saw something flash in Cole’s eyes. Like ice thawing. Or resolve softening.

 

But then it was gone. Almost like I’d just imagined it. Now he looks like the same heart-stoppingly gorgeous, aloof man that he always is.

 

“I’ll need to get some things from Bailey’s to fix this. You’ll be without water for a while. If that will be a problem, you’re welcome to go across the street. It’s warm and the water’s on.”

 

“I think we’ll be okay for a while,” I tell him, shivering without the hot water to keep me warm.

 

Cole frowns as his eyes rake me. Despite his expression, my skin tingles hotly everywhere his gaze touches. “You’re freezing.”

 

As if on cue, my teeth chatter, the coolness of the ambient air like ice on my wet limbs. “If you’ll give me just a minute to dress…”

 

I don’t want him to rush off. I’d rather be freezing and without water for a few minutes than to let him go just yet. But that’s not to be.

 

The crease in his brow deepens. “Oh. Sorry. I, uh, I’ll be back.” And with that, he’s gone, once again leaving Emmy and me watching after him.

 

????

 

An hour and a half of sitting on pins and needles later, I hear an engine roar up to the house outside and then shut off. Emmy runs to the window, but I make myself remain seated. He can knock and then I’ll go answer the door. I don’t want him to think I’ve been sitting here waiting on him all this time.

 

Which is exactly what I’ve been doing. From the moment he tore his hot-and-cold blue eyes off my wet skin, I haven’t been able to get him off my mind.

 

Who the hell am I kidding? I think about him too much all the time!

 

“It’s Jordan, Momma,” Emmy informs me.

 

My mood plummets. I don’t know how to take Jordan and I don’t really trust her, so any time spent with her isn’t exactly pleasurable. That’s doubly the case when I was expecting Cole instead. Not a fair trade. Not a fair trade at all.

 

This time, I do get up and go to the door, peeking out before I swing it open. My stomach does a little flip when I see Cole walking along behind Jordan as they approach my door. I can tell by the exaggerated way she’s swinging her hips that she’s hoping he’s looking at her butt.

 

When I open the door, she gives me a wide grin and a wink, as though she knows that I know exactly what she’s doing. “Is he looking?” she whispers when she stops in front of me.

 

I glance past her to Cole. His eyes are focused squarely, disconcertingly on me. His ever-present frown is in place, but his blue gaze is blazing up at me. For a second, I have to work to breathe, to make my lungs expand and contract, expand and contract.

 

“Is he?” Jordan hisses before Cole climbs onto the porch.

 

I just smile and nod, trying hard to keep my eyes and my attention on her rather than the man coming up behind her.

 

“I gave this handsome man and all his plumbing goodies a ride back here since he doesn’t drive.”

 

Doesn’t drive?

 

Although I’ve never seen him in a vehicle, it never occurred to me that Cole might not drive.

 

“I told you I could walk,” he says flatly when he stops behind Jordan.

 

Over her shoulder, she turns a million-watt smile on him. “And miss an opportunity to flirt with you? Not a chance.”

 

When she faces me, she rolls her eyes and then mouths an excited Ohmigod! Based on the flush of her cheeks and her uncharacteristically bright eyes, I’d say she’s pretty happy today, with or without alcohol. If she has been drinking, as per her usual, it’s not obvious.

 

“Can we come in?” Cole asks, his voice rife with irritation. I get the feeling he’s not too pleased about his predicament.

 

I suppress a grin. “Of course.”

 

I back up and open the door wide. Jordan wiggles in first, followed by a lagging Cole. My lips twitch as I look up into his scowling face.

 

“Don’t you dare laugh!” he leans down and whispers to me as he passes. That only makes my mirth harder to contain.

 

As I close the door behind him, I’m having trouble not smiling from ear to ear. Not because his reaction to Jordan is funny, which it sort of is, but more because I’m warmed from head to toe, inside to out, with how he shared it with me. Almost like a private joke. It makes me realize that I like sharing things with this man. And that I want to know him better.

 

A lot better.

 

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