“Worse than being pregnant with your loser-ex-husband’s baby and thinking you might be about to lose your job? I’m afraid to ask…”
“Guess who I ran into in the coffee shop this morning?”
“Who? Someone from the board of directors?”
“No. Your secret crush… Cole Miller.”
“Oh my gosh! Are you kidding me? Did you talk to him? Did you mention you have a sister who’s in love with him? I can’t believe he’s doing Millionaire Matchup. I’m going to lose him.” She made a sad moaning sound. “Maybe he could pull some strings and get me on that TV show. I’d marry him in a heartbeat. Those other women don’t love him like I do.”
“Sorry. No chance of that happening. I was walking in the door, looking up at the wall menu for something with decaf, and I literally ran into him. His coffee spilled all over me. Then I babbled like an idiot and didn’t even recognize him.”
Brooke passed through the reception lobby and waved at the guard.
“How could you not recognize him? He isn’t as good-looking in person as his pictures? No, don’t tell me. Don’t destroy my dream.” Harper giggled.
“He’s smoking hot in person.” Brooke shoved her way out the exit door and onto the sidewalk that stretched alongside the row of dormitory style rooms. “I was just so flustered, thinking about the baby and all. I didn’t really look at Cole until this employee was gushing all over him and called him Mr. Miller.” Brooke fanned herself against another surge of nausea. “Then I saw people in Lava Java taking pictures of him and me. I’m probably all over social media, splattered with coffee, no makeup, wearing a horrid pink polo shirt.”
“That totally stinks! Except for the part about meeting Cole Miller. And the part about the pink shirt. You know I love pink.”
“I might like it, too, if I hadn’t been forced to wear your hand-me-down shirts all through middle school. Every single one was pink.”
“Ha! I did you a favor. With our coloring, we look great in pink.” Harper didn’t give her a chance to argue. “What happened after you collided with Cole?”
“I hightailed it out of there as fast as I could.” Brooke stopped as she passed a trashcan, digging the sandwich from her bag and tossing it inside. “I can’t believe I didn’t even notice his hand. How could I miss a bright green robot-hand?”
“I wish I’d been there. I’d be perfect for him. I love cowboys. I could take care of his cattle and his dog… You know, he has a Bullmastiff. That’s a cool breed.”
“Believe me, I wish it had been you instead of me.”
“You have to go back there tomorrow and look for him. Show him my picture. Give him my number.”
“Didn’t you hear me? I was completely mortified! I’m never going back to that coffee shop, because I never want to see Cole Miller again.”
She rounded the corner of the building and slammed into a brick wall… a six-foot-one-inch, boot-clad wall whose hand reached out to steady her, sending a ripple of sparks to blow the circuits in her system.
“Sorry about that, Brooke.” Cole grinned, flashing a dimple and somehow sucking every molecule of breathable oxygen from the air around them. “Seems like I have a habit of running into you today. Literally.”
With a mouth that felt like she’d gargled saltine crackers, Brooke rasped into the phone still glued to her ear, “Harper, I need to call you back.”
CHAPTER 3
Cole whipped a bouquet of flowers from behind his back. “I got these for you, as an apology for spilling the coffee.”
“Thanks,” she said in a squeaky voice as she accepted the assortment of somewhat-wilted flowers. Her gaze flicked to the adjacent landscaping, whose nearby annuals were sparser than the rest, and she battled to keep a straight face. “You picked them out of the flower bed?”
His hand lifted as if to tip a hat, though the Stetson he’d worn earlier that morning was missing. On his forehead, an unruly lock of sandy-brown hair dared her to tuck it into position.
“It’s the thought that counts, right?” he asked. “And notice, there are no pink flowers in this bunch.”
A grin fought its way onto her face, but her pulse raced like a rabid dog was chasing her. He seemed to be flirting with her, but it felt all wrong. Her divorce had only been final for a few days. Anyway, it had to be her imagination. There was no way Cole Miller could be interested in her. She held her breath, willing her heart to slow down.
“You’re right—no pink. Thank you for the flowers.” She drew her brows downward, attempting a stern look. “But what are you doing here? And how did you find me?”
“Shall we walk while we talk?”
With a way-too-innocent expression, he offered an elbow. She wanted to refuse. After all, he’d invaded her privacy by tracking her down. Unfortunately, she noted his bright green prosthetic hand protruding from the shirt sleeve jutted toward her. If she turned him down, he might be insulted, thinking she was balking at touching the prosthesis. She shoved the bedraggled flowers into her tote and set her hand in the crook of his arm, doing her best to ignore the strange lumps that might’ve been part of the prosthetic hardware.
“You can walk me to my car, but that’s all.” As they moved, a wave of vertigo hit, and she gripped a little tighter.
“It’s a nice day, isn’t it?”
“Don’t change the subject,” she said. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do if you don’t want me to think you’re just like that creep who propositioned me this morning.”
A sheepish smile exposed sparkling white teeth. “I just felt bad about the coffee mishap, and you ran off before I could make it right.”
“But how did you find out my name and where I work? You have to admit, that’s pretty high on the creepy scale.”
“That’s the first time anyone’s ever accused me of being creepy.” He cocked his head to the side. “Everyone knows who I am, so I’m usually above suspicion.”
“Or maybe, everybody thinks you’re creepy. Only no one says it, because you’re rich.”
Cole threw his head back and laughed. “Until you came along and felt obliged to let me know just how weird and disturbing I am.”
“Exactly.” She squinted at him, nausea swirling in her belly. “For instance, you’re still avoiding my questions. How did you figure out who I am and who I work for?”
He shrugged his deliciously broad shoulders, and she wondered if he lifted weights with his prosthesis.
