Until now.

Until Cole.

All day, I’ve watched for him.  I saw him inside the house across the street earlier and I’ve watched for him to come out.  He never did.  At dark, the lights came on inside and they’re still on now.

I move into the living room, away from the window.  Away from Cole.  But I don’t leave him behind. I bring him with me.  I dwell on him as I sit, staring into the fire that I’ve nursed since he built it.  Somehow I’ve equated it to what burns between us, as though if I let the fire die, so will the attraction.  The possibility. The hope.

The hope of Cole.

I’ve never been so drawn to another person. Never wanted someone this way.  And I do. God, how I want him!  Before he uttered those words, before he caged me with his arms, I was lost.  Ecstatically, euphorically lost.

But I let a monster ruin it.  A monster that now lives only within the confines of my head because he’s hundreds of miles away.  All I’ve ever wanted was to be normal, to be happy and healthy and whole, and part of me believes that I could be all of that with Cole.  That he’s the one who’s destined to drag me out of the past.  Only I don’t think he’s the type to drag me if I resist.  He stopped the instant he felt me resisting him last night.  And it hurt him. I could see it.  He was so kind about it, but I could see the confusion and the hurt.

What if that completely ruined it? What if he doesn’t want to try again? What if now he thinks I’m damaged goods and wants nothing to do with me?  What if I don’t get another chance? What if I’ve looked into his beautifully intense blue eyes for the last time?

I envision my life ahead as more of the same.  I love my daughter and I live for her, but this thing with Cole…feeling like a part of something else, one half of a whole…I never realized it could be this way.  That I could feel this way.

But that could be over. I could go the rest of my life and never feel this way again. Never get butterflies of excitement.  Never melt with a look.  Never burn with a touch. Never crave with such intensity.  All because I was afraid. I let someone who can’t hurt me anymore hurt me.  And he’ll keep on hurting me if I don’t get over this.

Now.

I look around me, at the way the fingers of light stretch into the dark shadows around the room.  Or is it the dark shadows encroaching on the light? It mimics the power struggle within me.  My past–black nothingness, lurking, stalking, mocking.  My present–warm, golden, promising.  Alive.

Without even stopping to think about what I’m doing, I shove my feet into boots, creep in to check on Emmy and then head straight for the door. I don’t even grab a coat. I just lurch out into the cold, snowy night and head for the street.

I clomp through the drifts, oblivious to the wind whipping at my hair and the flakes wetting my cheeks.  I have one thing in mind–Cole.  I need him.  I need him to come back. I need him to make me forget rather than remember. I need him to replace the ugly with the beautiful.

I march up the steps and knock on the door.  He might answer. He might not. But I’m not leaving until he does. Because I need him. And I think he needs me.

I jump when the door jerks open.  I wasn’t expecting such a rapid response.

For a few seconds, I’m struck speechless by the heat in his wildly blue eyes.  They’re the most amazing color, and the way they hold me…the way he looks at me…it’s like he’s touching me.  Through and through.

Cole shakes his hair back. He has great hair.  Sexy hair.  The longish locks lay like a hairdresser fixed them and then messed them up just the right amount.  The bangs hang nearly to his chin, effortlessly framing his gorgeous face.

My heart stutters in my chest when I take in his naked torso and his low-slung jeans.  Rather than taking the risk of saying something stupid, I just bend and grab the boots by the door and hand them to Cole.  I hold my breath as I wait. What if he’s not interested since I freaked out?  What if he starts asking me questions that I have no answers for?  What if this is all a huge mistake?

I bring myself up short.  There’s no turning back now.  There’s just not. Not for me.

Cole’s brow furrows, an expression that I’m learning to love.  I think for a second that he’s going to resist, or tell me to get lost, but he doesn’t. Instead, he wordlessly takes the boots from my hands and drops them on the porch.  My heart sinks for a second, thinking that’s as far as this is going to go, but then, with his eyes on mine, he steps into them.

Hesitantly, I reach for his hand and tug. My stomach flips over when his fingers curl around mine and he reaches back with his other hand to close the door behind him.

I waste no time crossing the street again. My determination is still at fever pitch, but now my nerves are kicking in and I’m jittery, which makes my steps even more hurried.

“Eden, what’s wrong?” Cole finally asks when we’re nearing my front door.

On the porch, I turn to face him.  I look up and up and up until I meet his fathomless midnight eyes.  “Last night I woke and you were gone,” I explain.  “It felt wrong. So wrong.  And today…”

Unmoving, he stands watching me, his big hand still gripping mine, his frown still firmly in place.  “I couldn’t sleep last night.  At all.  That’s why I’m working tonight,” he finally confesses.

My soul sighs in relief.  Maybe he can overlook my crazy. Maybe he can love me despite my issues.  Maybe he’s the one.  And maybe this is the first step.

And the second step is to get closer.  To him.  So I do.  I move in and don’t stop until my chest is brushing his. I rest my palms against his cool, flat stomach.  I feel the jerk of his muscles.  Then I feel the answering twitch of my own. “I need you, Cole,” I whisper.  “I need you to touch me again, to kiss me again.”  I hear his sharp intake of breath.  “I need you.  Please.”  I rise onto my toes to kiss his chin.

As gently as the wind tosses the falling snow into a swirl of white mist around us, Cole sweeps me off my feet.  Slowly, he carries me up the steps and inside.  He pauses only to kick off his boots, his eyes never once leaving mine.  They hold me as securely as his strong arms do.

When we are once more in front of the fire, mere inches from the exact place where we stood last night, he sets me on my feet. “I will love every inch of you until you tell me to stop,” he declares. It’s as much a sensual promise as it is a pledge that he won’t do a single thing that I’m not comfortable with.  What I don’t tell him, what I’ll show him instead, is that I won’t stop him this time.  I need this more than he does.

With his intense stare focused on me, Cole tips his head toward the hall.  “Emmy?” he asks.

“Asleep,” I answer.  “She sleeps like a rock.”

Cole reaches for my hands and brings my knuckles to his mouth. He drags his lips back and forth over them, a tiny grin teasing a dimple out of his cheek.  “We’ll be quiet anyway.”  Slowly, he stretches my arms above my head, curling his fingers in the hem of my shirt, the backs of his cool fingers brushing my belly.  “So. So. Quiet.”  He punctuates each word with a soft kiss to my lips before his hands begin to inch the material up my body.

He tugs my sweater over my head and then tosses it on the couch without looking. It’s like he’s as hesitant to take his eyes off me as I am to take my eyes off him.  This moment…it’s so fragile, it seems. I’m almost afraid to look away. To break the spell.  To forget even one second of it.  Of how he looks, how he feels.

Cole traces the lacy edge of my bra with his fingertip.  He follows it all the way to the strap and up to my shoulder.  Chills break out across my chest when he eases the strip down my arm until it hangs loosely at my elbow. I feel the cup of my bra slip down to my nipple and catch on the rigid peak.  I stand perfectly still, breathing as quietly and steadily as I can even though my insides are a quivering mess.