Текст книги "Cole"

Автор книги: Tess Oliver

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Chapter 6

Kensington

The night sky was moonless and quiet, the perfect backdrop for stargazing. Something Dad and I had loved to do when I was younger. I actually missed it.

I glanced down at the flurry of satin dragging behind me on the cement walkway. I reached back and swept the long train over one arm. “Jeesh, the inconvenience of princesshood.”

“Love that fucking dress, by the way.” Cole tightened his lips. “Sorry, that word is sort of a big part of my vocabulary.”

He was embarrassed about cussing in front of me, and even though cussing didn’t bother me, I liked that he cared enough to regret it.

“I’m not actually royalty, so your colorful language is fine, even if not really befitting a prince . . . or princess, I suppose. Use it myself too, when necessary. Although, I’ll admit that when I pulled this dress out of my closet and tried it on in front of a mirror, I didn’t say love this fucking dress. I bought it last Halloween, and sadly, there were no princes at last year’s party. So I left the ball in my pumpkin coach and with both glass slippers in hand. Figured I’d drag it out and give it another go. Imagine my surprise when a charming prince greeted me at the door.”

“Knew I picked the right costume.” Cole glanced back toward the house. “So—Nate’s your date but not your boyfriend?”

“If he’d been introducing me to one of the energy drink models, believe me, he would have used the word date.”

I glanced sideways at his handsome profile. Lines creased the side of his mouth. He had one of those easy smiles that made you think he rarely frowned.

The patio led to a grassy area that had a trampoline, a set of dumbbells and some old chaise lounges. Past the grass was a long stretch of smooth dirt leading to a makeshift oval track complete with mounds of dirt for motocross. A small backhoe and tractor sat off the side of the track. Farther out were a ramp and a large square box filled with chunks of foam. Another ramp had been built near the back wall. The remnants of a failed grape vineyard stood parched and hopeless along the right side of the property.

“I heard you digging this track when I was riding. You’ve got yourself a regular man playground out here. Some people might consider it a waste of land, but I guess it suits your purpose.”

He led me toward the ramp at the back of the property. “Some people like to unwind with a beer and television after a long day of work. I like to play. My roommates and coworkers, Denver and Rodeo, both ride freestyle MX. They’ve both got a respectable amount of sponsors. Denver’s jumps are tight and impressive. Rodeo is a little more like watching a man break a wild horse. But he gets the job done.”

“And you? I saw you flying through the air a few times before our meeting out on the trail.”

“I’m learning some tricks. Mostly, I ride motocross”—he paused—”not professionally like your date but for fun. Probably could have gone pro if I’d had an attention span, which I don’t. Unfortunately, I’ve found that the higher the possibility of a broken bone, the higher the threshold of fun. It’s a grim fact of life, I’m afraid. But since you jump massive horses over fences, I guess you’ve already discovered that too.”

“I have had my share of visits to the emergency room. And I do like to unwind after the work day by riding. I’m still trying to visualize what a long day of work looks like for you.”

“Ah ha, the first dig about my social status. You don’t think I work, huh? Just playing and partying, the typical life of a rock star’s kid.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I always hate it when people judge me before they know me, and here I am doing the same.” There were a few plastic chairs sitting near the foam pit. Cole pulled them out, blew on them to get rid of the dust and motioned me to sit with a prince-like flourish of his hand. “Milady.”

“You really like to get into the part, don’t you?” I gathered up the satin train and sat down, suddenly hyperaware of just how exposed my legs were in the cut out dress.

Cole plopped, with a little less royal manner, into the chair. I smiled over at him. He had perfectly symmetrical features, the ideal California guy but with some ink and short cropped hair to break up the wholesome, just off the beach look.

Surprisingly, he seemed to be having a hard time looking directly at me as if he was shy around girls, which I was certain was not the case. “So, Cole King—ston, tell me about yourself. If you’re not the typical Beverly Hills born and raised type, then who are—?”

He finally worked up the courage to face me, and it was not the slightest bit disappointing. His gaze softened with some admiration as he looked at me, and I had to admit I was enjoying it. Gold crown or not, he could easily have rode up on any white horse and stolen away a princess’s heart with just his hazel eyes and his smile.

Cole reached over and tucked a curl of my hair behind the rhinestone clip. It was a gesture that caught me completely off guard, and it took me a moment to recover.

“I definitely didn’t have a normal childhood, and living with my dad, well it’s been an adventure, but mostly a good one. The only thing I really hated was how much time he had to spend away from Fin, Jude and me.”

“Your brothers?”

“Fin—Finley is a girl. She’s here at the party. She loves horses, by the way. And all animals, for that matter. She and her boyfriend, Rett, run a non-profit rescue barn in the valley. Some Pig, her pet pot belly pig lives in my dad’s house. He basically rules the place.”

“I always wanted a pet pig, and I wouldn’t have thought twice about having him follow me around the house. You’ll have to introduce me to Finley.”

“I will.”

“And your mom?”

He smiled. “Guess you aren’t big on tabloid reading.”

“No, but I have two parakeets, and I find tabloids make perfect bedding for the bottom of their cage.”

He looked at me for a moment that seemed longer than a normal pause. “I knew I liked you the second I met you.”

“To be technical, the second you met me you were flying over the handlebars of your bike. I doubt you could have formed much opinion at that time.”

“True. Revise that. I liked you the moment you walked up and asked if I was all right. I was waiting for you to stomp over and chew my head off. But you didn’t.” He sat back. “Anyhow, each of us have a different mom. Jude’s died in an accident, and Finley’s doesn’t stick around town much. My mom used to be Dad’s accountant.”

“I’m an accountant for my dad’s business. Do you see your mom much?”

“Sometimes. She works in New York, and I don’t really like it on the east coast. Too many snow days for playing.” He waved his arm around the yard. “Sunshine and a lot of dirt, it’s all I need to be content. My dad fought to get custody of all of us, but I think we would have stayed with him anyway. And not for the reasons you might think, like the expensive houses and big parties. My dad is cool. There’s no other way to describe him. He made some mistakes and probably exposed us to too much of the grittier life of being a rock star, but at the same time, he’d help us build forts out of sheets and furniture and even climb under with us to tell ghost stories and eat peanut butter crackers. We were always his number one priority, and we all knew it. I should say know it. We’re adults but we are still his main concern.” There was so much genuine emotion in his face when he talked about his extremely famous dad that it was easy to see how much he loved him. “Dad grew up in a poor part of England. His dad left when he was little, abandoning his mom with three young boys and little else.”

“A true rags to riches story.”

“Yeah. I think it kept him grounded.” Cole had a deep, smooth laugh. It fit perfectly with the rest of him. “Well, I guess grounded doesn’t really work for my dad. But most people think he’s one of those wild, party till you drop guys with a girl on each arm. Which he is, although not so much anymore because Finley is extremely persistent, and, I might add, a little annoying, when it comes to Dad, Jude and me taking care of our health. Dad’s semi-retired now, and my sister stands over him every morning until he takes his vitamins and eats his yogurt and granola.”

I laughed. “Oh my gosh, what a picture that must be, renowned rock legend Nicky King eating yogurt and granola. Good for your sister. I’m always pestering my dad about his steak and eggs breakfasts. Our parents grew up with completely different habits. My dad still holds a piece of wheat bread as if it’s a foreign object. He said he used to eat this stuff called Wonder bread that you could clump in your fist and turn it into a white ball of dough. Delicious with ketchup, according to him.”

Cole looked at me with a serious lift of his brow. “Uh, that’s because everything is delicious with ketchup.”

“True. Maybe our generation isn’t so different after all.”

“I don’t know about that. My dad still can’t figure out how to use the damn remote.”

I laughed again and without thinking, I placed my hand on his arm. “Oh my gosh, have you ever gotten the—” I dropped my voice a few octaves in a pathetic attempt to mimic my dad, “when I was a kid, you had to get your butt off the couch to change the channel.”

Cole leaned against the back of the chair and stretched out his long legs. “Yep, I’ve heard the tragic story many times along with the pitiful part about only having a few channels to choose from.”

“Right. Only a few channels and three of those were news at night.”

He glanced down at my hand on his arm. I’d left it there longer than necessary.

“What about you, Kensington?”

“You can call me Kensie. I know Kensington is a mouthful. It was my grandmother’s surname.”

“It’s a very cool name.” He looked pointedly at my bare legs. “And, may I add, with my colorful language, that you have a fucking awesome pair of legs.”

I felt my cheeks warm. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d blushed at something a guy said. I couldn’t remember the last time a guy had asked me about myself either. I seemed to have been dating a lot of egocentric men.

“It wasn’t exactly rags to riches for my dad. More like cheap, fifty percent off jeans to designer jeans. He worked hard to make the business a success, and, at the same time, he always made time for me. I’m an only child, which is apparently my fault because my mom loves to recount the”—I lifted air quotes—“hellish twenty-four hours that was my birth. It scared her off of having another baby. Supposedly. But she’s a good mom. She wouldn’t ever crawl under a fort and eat peanut butter crackers with me, but she never stopped me from pulling her expensive sheets off the bed to build one. I’d bring all my Barbies and their horses, of course. A happy girl never goes anywhere without her trusty pony. Kind of lonely not having siblings, but I can’t complain about any of it.”

I glanced toward the house. More of the party had moved out to the cool night air. A good Santa Ana wind had kicked up, making the tiny decorative lights vibrate as they cast their glow over the crowded patio. A dark, handsome and slightly menacing looking guy was walking toward us. He had on a black leather motorcycle jacket and black motorcycle boots, but something told me it wasn’t a costume.

“I think one of your guests is looking for you.”

Cole turned his attention toward the house and smiled. “That’s my brother, Jude. You’d never guess it from looking at him, but he’s an artist.”

A laugh shot from my mouth, and I covered it in embarrassment.

“That’s all right,” Cole said. “He looks like he should be riding with a motorcycle gang, and trust me, he’d fit right in because badass is his middle name. Or so he thinks. And he’s pretty much right. But he’s one hell of an artist.”

Cole stood up and I followed. “Bro, you decided to grace us with your presence.”

Jude was a much darker, brooding version of his brother. His smile immediately softened his appearance. He nodded my direction, and they gave each other a quick hug.

“Hey, Jude, this is my neighbor, Kensington.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jude glanced around and shook his head. “Like what you’ve done to the place. Where are the swings and slides?”

“If I’d known you were coming, I would have set some up. Along with one of those big bouncy things.” Cole pointed to Jude’s black t-shirt and coat. “You put a lot of thought into that costume.”

“Thanks for noticing. I’m wearing orange underwear.”

“I’ll take your word on that.”

“By the way, Dad says he’s pissed he didn’t get an invite. I suggested he cut you out of the will.”

Cole laughed and his crown slid sideways. He righted it. “Then this would become the world’s most expensive Halloween party.”

“You should have invited your dad,” I suggested. “I’ll bet he’s a lot of fun.”

Cole’s prince cape was flapping in the strong breeze. He pushed it out of his way. “Yeah, he’s fun. The problem is, when he’s around—to put it in his own words—the other sorry blokes don’t have a bloody chance in hell with the women.”

“That’s a great British accent. You know we California girls get a little giddy when we hear one. You should use it more often.”

“Yeah? I’m all for giddy. I’ll remember that little trick next time we aren’t standing here in front of my brother.” Cole looked at Jude. “Where’s Eden?”

“She’s inside with Fin.” Jude’s green eyes had a hint of gold in them as he looked at me. “Thought I saw a giant pumpkin coach out front. And I see you’ve already found the frog. He’ll probably transform into a man any time.”

“Actually, I haven’t worked up the courage for the kiss yet,” I said.

Jude shot a questioning look at Cole.

“She came here with a date,” Cole informed him.

Jude gave a halfhearted grin. “That’s never stopped you before.”

“Speaking of dates,” I said, “mine is waving to me from the porch. I suppose I should go talk to him. Nice meeting you, Jude.” I curtsied to both of them, whipped my train up over my arm and scuttled across the dirt on my clear plastic slippers.

Nate’s mouth was pulled into a tight line. “What the hell, Kensie? You just disappeared. They’re blending some margaritas in the kitchen.” He put his arm around my waist and went to kiss me. I turned my face so his mouth landed on my cheek.

Nate’s arm tensed around me. “You sure do hold a grudge. Let’s get you a drink. Then maybe you’ll soften up your attitude toward me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my attitude, Nate. But a drink sounds good.”

He led me to the kitchen. A guy with dark hair, blue eyes and broad shoulders that were straining the thin fabric on a Star Trek shirt was pouring drinks from the blender.

“Hey, Denver, this is Kensington,” Nate said as he grabbed a drink from the counter.

I knew his face and it only took me a second to place it. “Denver, you were in my calculus class in high school. I remember the teacher, Mr. Elberg, would ask you for help when he couldn’t figure out a problem.”

A humble smile crossed his face. “That was me.” He handed me a drink. “Glad you could make it tonight, Kensington.”

Nate tapped my shoulder. “Hey, baby, guess who that cute, little blonde in the steampunk costume standing in the dining room is.”

A petite, beautiful girl with white blonde bangs sticking out from under a black top hat was standing talking to two other girls with equally stylish steampunk costumes.

“That’s Nicky King’s daughter, Finley,” Nate blurted before I could take a guess.

“She’s very cute,” I said.

“I’ll say,” Nate said nearly drooling the words, as if we were just drinking buddies ogling a girl instead of a couple that had come to the party together.

I glanced toward her again, and she smiled briefly my direction. A tall, utterly breathtaking man in a black cowboy hat walked into the room and stood next to Finley.

Denver poured another drink from the blender. “That’s Finley’s boyfriend, Rett.”

I could feel Nate’s enthusiasm deflate. I patted him on the shoulder. “Sorry about that.”

He shrugged my hand off. “The guy looks like a loser.”

A slightly harsh laugh shot from my mouth. “Damn, if that’s what a loser looks like, then I’ve got to stop hanging around winners.”

Denver lifted his glass in a toast to show his appreciation for my comment.

I could feel tension radiating off Nate. Our barely there relationship seemed to be coming to a natural end, and I was all right with that. I always knew Nate wasn’t right for me.

“Speaking of losers,” Nate snarled as he looked in the direction of the patio doors. Cole and Jude were stepping inside. They couldn’t have looked or seemed more opposite, and yet it was easy to see the brotherly connection was strong.

“I’ll bet that guy, Cole, doesn’t do anything all fucking day. Never had to work to make a living,” Nate continued.

“You’re wrong,” Denver said. “He’s my boss at Kingston construction.”

“I’m sure that’s because his daddy owns the damn company.” Nate’s unappealing smirk followed.

“Yeah, he does, but that’s not the fucking point I was making.” Denver spoke calmly, but it was easy to see he was pissed by Nate’s ignorant assumptions. “Cole is the boss, but he works right alongside his crew, even digging ditches, moving dirt and doing all the other grunt jobs. He’s a fair boss, and he works hard. So your opinion of him is completely wrong. Now, I think Captain Kirk needs to mingle with the other life forms.”

I winked at Denver as he walked past me to the front room. As my eyes swept around, Cole’s gaze caught hold of mine. We looked at each other for a long time.

“You know, this party sucks. There’s another one down in San Diego. Why don’t we blow this one off,” Nate suggested.

I finally pulled my attention away from Cole. “You go ahead. I think I’ll stick it out here for awhile.”

Nate scowled at me for a cold, angry moment and then stomped away without another word.

Chapter 7

Cole

The party had gone smoothly. Slowly, the guests peeled away with wilted costumes and full of tacos and beer. I was glad to be left with the people who I wanted to hang with most of all. I’d managed a little more alone time with Kensington, which, aside from seeing Finley and Rett and all their friends, turned out to be the highlight of the whole damn party. We’d even exchanged phone numbers. It had taken me awhile to notice that Nate had left without her, mostly because I hadn’t been looking for the guy.

Without being asked, Kensington had stayed to help with the clean up. She’d spent a lot of the evening talking to Finley and Eden. I’d shot Finley more than one warning look to not embarrass the hell out of me, but I knew that would only add to her quest to do exactly that. And if there was someone who knew every embarrassing and less than stellar moment in my life, it was my sister.

Kensington walked out of the kitchen. She had tired of the long train on her costume and Taylor had figured a way to sweep it up into a decent knot at the back of the dress. I hadn’t noticed I was holding my breath as I watched her cross the room to me until Jude elbowed me hard.

“Guess that’s the literal definition of breathtaking,” Jude said from the side of his mouth before walking away.

It had been a long night but Kensington still glittered like a true princess. “Thanks again for having me, Cole. I had a great time.”

“How are you getting home?” I asked.

“My pumpkin coach hightailed it back to the pumpkin patch. I thought I might just leave through your back gate and hike across the trail in my plexi-glass slippers.”

“No, there are all kinds of man-eating critters out there, coyotes and tarantulas and shit.”

“I’m not afraid of coyotes. Now, if I run into a man-eating tarantula, then that’s a whole different thing.”

“Kensington, really, let me give you a ride home.”

“No. You’ve still got guests.”

I waved my hand. “That’s just Rett and the guys. No biggie.”

Dray had left the coat on but it hung open. The alien head still bobbing through the hole in his shirt. He put his hand hard on my shoulder. “Thanks for the kind words, bro. Hey, we’re heading out to the foam pit. It was nice meeting you, Cinderella. And let me say, you’ve given me a whole new appreciation for fairy tales.” He walked outside to join the others.

“If you want to stick around and watch, I guarantee it will be entertaining,” I said. “Then I’ll give you a ride home.”

Finley was adjusting the leather holster slung around her hips as she stepped out of the kitchen. “Yes, Kensie, please stay, and I’ll finish telling you that story.”

My face shot toward Finley. “What story? Shit, Fin, did you tell her about that time when I screwed up in the sixth grade winter play?”

Finley’s face lit up underneath her black top hat. “Oh my gosh, I forgot that one. See, now you have to stay.” She headed outside.

“I guess I could stick around,” Kensington said. “And now that you’ve put the idea of man-eating tarantulas in my head, that trek across the ravine doesn’t sound so appealing. A ride home would be nice.”

Dray, who tended to hang onto an idea once he had one, wasn’t going to let the evening end without jumping into the foam pit. The women had parked themselves comfortably along the spectator benches adjacent to the ramp. Eden had carried out the pitcher of margaritas, and she sat next to Finley. Eden and Finley had been best friends ever since Dad had hired Eden as Finley’s companion when Finley’s anxiety disorder had made it impossible for her to leave the house. They’d quickly grown inseparable. Eden was amazing. She could easily be credited with saving Finley from the suffocating walls of her panic disorder, and Jude, from his one true enemy, himself.

Rodeo and Denver pulled the BMX bikes out of the shed. Rodeo rode one and carried another on his shoulder. Denver followed on his.

Dray moaned in disappointment. “Thought we were bringing out the big guns, the dirt bikes.”

“Since this is your first time at the foam pit and since you’ve had plenty of beer, you should probably start on two wheels with no motor,” I suggested. “Besides, I’d have to set the Bobcat up to pull a motorcycle out of the foam.”

“Shit. Now I’m going to have to pedal to launch myself.” Dray took off his coat and almost seemed surprised by the alien head prop sticking out of the hole in his shirt.

Nix took the bike off Rodeo’s arm and hopped on it. “Dray, are you gonna lose your rubbery friend there or is he jumping with you?”

Dray stroked the ugly rubber head like a pet rabbit. “I’ve been wanting rid of this thing for hours. However—” He lifted his shirt to reveal the layers of duct tape he’d used to tape on the alien.

Clutch was sitting on the stepladder leaning against the outside of the pit. His laughter boomed across the yard. “Is that fucking duct tape? You might just lose some skin.” He stood up and headed toward Dray. “Which means I need to get a better view.”

With some effort, Dray pulled his shirt off. He stared down at the tape pieces as if he was developing a plan of attack. An amused silence fell over the yard. From what I’d seen of Dray in the octagon, he was pretty immune to pain. But everyone had their limits. No matter how he went about removing the tape, it was going to hurt like hell. Dray picked at the edge of his tape mess like a little kid trying to work up courage to give the bandage a yank.

“Night’s not getting any younger, bro.” Rett walked over and took the second bike from Denver. “Maybe you should keep wearing the thing until it falls off naturally. You know like in the shower or swimming pool.”

“Hell no, I’m not sleeping in the same bed with that thing.” Cassie hopped off the bench and walked with enthusiasm toward Dray. She stopped in front of him. His eyes widened with something I rarely saw in Dray’s expression—fear.

Cassie leaned forward to get a better look at the mosaic of duct tape. She straightened and tapped her chin in thought. “Remember when you strongly suggested I try one of those Brazilian bikini waxes? Well, I want you to rethink that suggestion.”

Dray scrunched his face tight as Cassie reached for the end of the tape. She braced herself and gave it sharp yank.

“Fuuuck!” Dray’s groan echoed off the house as he clutched his stomach and crouched down for a few seconds to catch his breath.

The rest of us had to catch our breath from laughing. Kensington seemed to be having a great time. It was probably stupid to form an opinion so quickly, but so far she was turning out to be nothing like the other girls I’d dated. She was a real, two feet on the ground type, and I liked her. A lot.

Rodeo was still laughing as he rode off on the bike. “Let’s get this fucking jump party started.” He circled around and raced toward the ramp. The front tire shot up. He pulled a backflip, landing almost perfectly upright in the pit.

Dray had mostly recovered. He pointed toward Rodeo. “That’s what I want to try.”

“Hey, Denver, let me borrow that bike.” I climbed on it. “Uh, I think you should stick with a three-sixty for now, Dray. Watch this and prepare to be impressed.” I’d tired of the crown fast but my red prince cape flew behind me as I pedaled hard toward the ramp. It whipped around in a flurry as I spun the bike around midair and then dropped into the foam. I lifted my arms up for applause. The women were just drunk enough to be a very appreciative audience.

I lifted the bike up and over the side of the pit. Dray walked over to take the bike from me and I climbed out behind it.

Dray stared down at the bike, then looked at me. He held out his hand. “I need the cape too. It adds another layer of cool to the whole thing.” He hadn’t put his shirt back on and the skin around his stomach was still bright red from the tape.

I handed him my cape. “Here, it sort of matches your skin. Make sure you ride back far enough to get some decent—”

Dray waved me off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got this.” He was a little wobbly but determined. He rode hard toward the ramp but didn’t get enough lift. He had plenty of spin though. The bike twirled into the foam pieces like the blades in a blender, popping them up in every direction and burying the rider deep.

Rett was laughing hard as he ran to the pit and hopped up on the stepladder. He looked down into the foam. “All I see is the red cape.” He paused. “Nope, there he is.” He gave the audience a thumbs up. “He’s alive.”

Clutch got on a bike. “Where the hell is the ignition on this thing?”

“Dude, you look just like one of those circus clowns on the mini bicycle,” Jude called to him. Again, we all dissolved into laughter. The party had been a blast, but we were all having more fun just hanging out together.

Clutch, undeterred by Jude’s comment and our guffaws, raised his middle finger to all of us as he pedaled toward the ramp. As expected, the bike made a small chirp jump. Giant and bike dove face first into the foam. The girls were leaning on each other trying to catch their breath. Kensington was right there with them, her face a pink glow from laughing so hard. And it occurred to me how perfectly she fit in with the other girls, confident, beautiful and likable in every way. Something told me winning her heart would be a challenge, but that same something was telling me she was totally worth the effort.