Page 16 of About Yesterday (Foothills #5)

Frozen in time, she silently dared herself to cross the line.

To follow her gut and lean in, to listen to that heat in her belly and flutter in her chest and tingling in her lips that told her, without reserve, that this kiss, right now, in this moment, would be phenomenal.

That the way he responded, so honestly, subtly seductively without even trying, that he wanted to kiss her more than anyone had ever wanted to kiss her.

That she had never been so tempted in her entire existence. Not even by chocolate.

Instead, in true Trace fashion, her brain twisted around and around until doubt smacked her upside the head. If she messed up, if she kissed him and threw off his carefully constructed balance and he fell, it would be her fault.

Safety won out, and she patted his cheeks and sat up straight.

Too terrified to see Cole’s reaction, she looked toward the stairs, tuning in to the music radiating up the stairs from her mom’s latest soaring diva playlist to drown out the pounding in her chest. Without needing to look, to see the look on his face, his disappointment was palpable.

The front door squealed open.

Trace set her hand on her chest to steady her breath and popped up to her feet.

“Pizza’s here,” her dad shouted as he began the ascent up the stairs. As if he knew better than to do any surprise visits. It had been a useful habit when Finn had been over in high school.

She dashed over to the top of the stairs, hoping she didn’t look obviously flushed and frustrated.

Smile wide and bright, Jeremy nodded to the black TV screen. “No movie yet? I figured Cole would be half asleep and you’d have one of your foreign films going.”

She rolled her eyes and took the box from him. “Food coma. Too many cookies,” she said with a wink. “Now go have fun. Don’t stay out too late.”

“That’s the magic of having you all grown up. We can stay out as late as we want,” he said, winking back before turning to dash back down.

Trace carted the pizza back to the coffee table.

Moment gone, Cole was bent forward, releasing the Velcro on the walking boot. He groaned as each strap loosened. “Fuck that thing is awful,” he growled. No acknowledgement of what had almost happened.

“I don’t know, walking is probably a good thing,” she answered lightly.

“Maybe.” He winced as he eased it all the way off and propped his foot up on a pillow, far from the pizza. “Sorry if my feet stink.”

She wiggled her bare toes and said, “Ditto.”

He laughed and sat up far enough to flip open the lid of the pizza box. “This, I didn’t miss as much.”

Trace plucked up a slice, the cheese extending the length between her mouth and the box, and dove in for a bite. An olive tumbled off, tiny bits of tomato sprayed everywhere, but it was tasty. “What? This is gourmet,” she said through chipmunk-full cheeks.

He turned his head as he lowered the tip of a slice into his mouth and leaned back to get comfortable. “Naples. That is some damn good pizza.”

“I’ve never been.”

“Then you’ve never lived,” he said, winking playfully.

Well shit. Her bite sunk like a rock into her tummy.

“What? I’m sorry, I was totally kidding,” he said, his teasing smile morphing into a concerned frown.

“I’ve been to France. I was in Paris over the summer,” she said, nodding subtly. “It was lovely.” She sank her teeth into another bite.

“Paris is awesome. I’d totally live there. But I don’t know, there is no place like Foothills.” He thoughtfully chewed another bite, smiling subtly as he seemed to adjust to the subpar pizza. “Your parents said you did some traveling, for school.”

She chewed the endlessly chewy cheese and finally managed to swallow without choking on excess mozzarella. “I did, to France and to Quebec. But, I don’t know, it would be more fun to go with friends I can be silly with.”

“What do you mean? You didn’t have fun?”

“I did, but, okay, the first time I tried escargot, of course, I launched one across the restaurant—by accident—and got giggly as I remembered that scene in Pretty Woman. The people I was with didn’t get the joke, nor did they appreciate my knee-slapping laugh in the middle of the fancy restaurant. ”

He laughed and nudged her knee with his. “Damn, I would love to have seen you get the giggles over slippery snails.”

“And there’s this sculpture in the Louvre that looks like she’s taking a selfie. So, naturally, I took a selfie with her.” Trace giggled at her own humor.

Pushing his bite to his cheek, he laughed and shook his head.

She’d sent the pic to her parents, and they’d laughed. “My friends subtly moved on to the next room.”

“We should travel together sometime. I would love to travel for fun, instead of work.”

“We would be good travel buddies,” she said, sitting up straight and stuffing the last bit of crust in her mouth. “ SDfsakndflskndf ?”

“What?” he asked, laughing as he dropped his crust back into the box and went for his beer.

She muffled a laugh as she focused on swallowing and tried again. “Where all have you visited?”

After a hefty, drawn-out gulp, he chewed the edge of his tongue, then dove in for another swig.

Drawing in a breath to recover, he said, “Not sure I’d call it visiting.

I worked in a lot of places, some nice, most not so nice.

So, yeah, it would be nice to go with someone who I can laugh with.

” He reached across the table and grabbed one of the two stainless steel water bottles, then settled back into the sofa.

“It’s a date. Where should we go first?”

He big his tongue again and looked into the distance. “Iceland. Norway, maybe.”

“Really? Not soak up some sun and relax for your first real vacation?”

“I’ve been to too many excessively hot and miserable places for work, and I hate the heat…” He tipped a look, one side of his mouth lifting with playful devilry. “Although I would happily go someplace hot if you wear a skimpy bikini.”

Her beer flowed straight into her lungs and sent her coughing and flushing.

Covering her mouth with one hand, she cupped her beer and lifted a finger in the international symbol for, “choking, hang on.” Wow.

Shit. The flirting thing was new and… and…

delicious and swoony and she began to worry if she was hitting menopause as her skin flushed hotter.

Or maybe it was the choking. “Um. Wow. I guess that could, um… I do need a new swimsuit.” That was the best she could come up with? Way to dish it back, Trace.

He laughed a tease and grabbed the remote, turning and clicking it on. “So Hawaii is out for now.” He landed on one of the streaming subscriptions and then reached back to the table behind the sofa and flicked off the nearest lamp.

Speechless, clueless, and completely out of her league, Trace stowed away the rest of the pizza and goodies and carted them downstairs. She did a quick cleanup, and by the time she got back up, Cole was sound asleep on the couch.