Page 40

My brothers and I have always had a rocky relationship with our parents, to say the least. Dad’s in jail where he belongs, and none of us are sad about that. But according to Cole and Tate, Mom has been trying to make amends for her distance during our youth. Though she hasn’t approached me about it, she does seem to have mellowed recently—her presence at the hospital speaks to that. And Cole mentioned she’s been visiting more often than either Tate or me. The grimace he tried to hide when he told me that suggests he’d prefer her visits to be a little less frequent.
Still, at least she’s trying.
When Delilah returns from the kitchen, she’s carrying a tray with three cups of coffee on it.
Guilt pierces me when I note the dark smudges beneath her eyes that match Cole’s. “I could have done that.”
“That’s okay.” With a relieved sigh, she puts down the tray. Then she settles next to Cole, leaning her shoulder against his, and gives me a warm smile. “You only know how to make coffee one way, and at the moment, I prefer mine decaf and sweet.”
I return her smile easily. Though I would have struggled to believe it a few years ago, I’ve grown fond of my sister-in-law. I can admit now that I was wrong about her and Cole, and regret still fills me whenever I think about how I compared their relationship to Mom and Dad’s. Or to mine and Katherine’s. If Cole had listened to me back then, he wouldn’t be as happy as he is now.
He wouldn’t be happy at all.
That knowledge sits heavy on my shoulders.
I bring my mug to my lips and close my eyes to savor the deep, dark taste of the coffee my soon-to-be other sister-in-law, Violet, sells at her coffee shop. It’s some of the best I’ve ever had.
That thought has my mind drifting back to the moment Chloe showed up at the hospital with coffee and donuts. To the way those pretty ocean eyes of hers found me as soon as she entered the room and how her cheeks flushed as she walked toward me.
Tate’s comment as he let her in still echoes in my head. With her blond hair shimmering in the light like a halo, she did look like an angel. And there I was, in the middle of my family, waiting to hear the good news of my niece’s arrival, and all I could think about was how it would feel to run my hands over the curve of her hips, to grip her ass and pull her down onto me.
“Do you want to hold her?” Cole asks.
“What?” I blink back to the moment, and it takes me far too long to realize he’s talking about Lottie. “Sure.” Surprisingly, I do. There’s something strangely appealing about holding a brand-new life in my arms. A sense of the endless possibilities that lie ahead. Not that I’d share that kind of sentimental thought with anyone.
I gingerly take the tiny bundle from Cole, freeing him up to take a no-doubt much-needed sip of coffee. Then I sit back down with my niece, cradling her close.
Lottie’s little face screws up and her hazy blue-gray eyes stare up at me. Will she take after Cole and keep that hue, or will they turn green like her mom’s? Or will the gray dominate, leaving her irises the same shade as mine? “Hi there, baby King,” I murmur. “Who are you going to be?”
She gives me a gummy yawn and waves one tiny fist in the air.
“How are things with Chloe?” Delilah takes a sip of her coffee, then gives me a too-innocent smile.
My gut twists. What the hell has Cole been telling her?
“Things are fine. She’s efficient, professional. What else is there to say?” I feign a casualness I don’t in any way feel.
“Tate told us she dropped off food and drinks while you were waiting at the hospital. That was nice of her.”
Focus fixed on the baby in my arms, I grunt. “It’s what I pay her for.”
“Sophie didn’t drop off anything for Tate,” Cole says.
I clench my jaw and shoot him an annoyed look. “I’m sure she would if he’d asked her to.”
“Did you ask Chloe to?”
“No,” I grind out. “But we’d been working all evening. She knew I’d be tired. That’s what a good assistant does—anticipates needs.”
“You’re admitting she’s good, then?”
“What is the point of this conversation?” I need to end it before I make it too obvious that he’s getting under my skin, if I haven’t already. “Yes, she’s a good assistant, okay? Are you satisfied?”
Cole regards me with undisguised amusement. “I am. It’s not often you admit that you were wrong.”
“I don’t recall admitting that.” And I won’t. Chloe may be good—better than good, really—but my concerns haven’t disappeared. In fact, they’ve gotten more intense. Fighting the temptation she presents day in and day out isn’t as easy as I thought it would be. Particularly after the other night when we worked late together. The night she was on her knees in front of me.
A vision I’m still struggling to get out of my head.