Page 21 of Falling for Cocky Cole (Shared by the Carter Brothers #2)

As we talk, the sun sinks below the horizon and night starts to fall.

Alison helps me clear the table, and then I surprise her with a strawberry cake.

She squeals with pleasure, just as I had anticipated.

I watch as she devours the cake, reminiscent of when she was a child, and I'm glad I added it to our evening plans.

After expressing how full she is, we relax back into our lounge chairs and take in the peacefulness of the night.

My yard is surrounded by towering fir trees, their silhouettes stark against the darkening sky.

The patio light casts a soft, warm glow around us, and we can see the moon peeking out from behind a treetop.

The faint sound of waves washing against the shore provides a soothing backdrop.

I watch Alison’s profile, illuminated by the moonlight, and feel a mix of fondness and an emotion I can't quite name.

Alison gazes at the moon, her expression thoughtful. "I love this," she says softly. "Moon gazing is one of my favorite activities when coming to Seashore Village. Mom used to do this a lot."

The mention of Linda, Alison's mother, stirs something in me. I remember her as a free spirit, always with a faraway look in her eyes that matched her daughter's current expression.

The city life never suited Linda and I wasn't surprised when Richard told me she'd moved to a farm after the divorce.

“How's your mom doing?" I ask, genuinely curious.

Alison pauses, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the arm of her chair. "She's... busy, but happy," Alison finally replies as she turns to me. "Every time I call her, she can't stop talking about her goats. She calls them her babies."

I gaze at her intently, trying to read her expression. Her blue eyes reflect the moonlight. A smile plays on her lips, but it doesn't quite reach her eyes.

I lean forward, sensing there's more beneath the surface. "Do you miss her?" I ask gently.

Alison's gaze drops to her lap, and she nods. "Yeah," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "I was mad she didn't come to my graduation ceremony, because of the goats. She said they would starve without her."

“Is she serious?” I say, frowning. How could Linda have been so insensitive?

Alison pauses. "Yes. But I know it’s just an excuse. She didn't want to see Dad."

The tremor in her voice hits me like a physical blow. Before I can stop myself, I reach out and pat her back. "It's okay, sweetheart if you want to cry," I say, my heart aching for her.

Alison takes a shaky breath. "I know I'm selfish, but I really wish they weren't divorced. I really wish things could go back to before when we were a family."

Her eyes meet mine, brimming with unshed tears. "I don't understand... they never fought. They didn't hate each other. Then, why?"

I sigh, feeling the weight of her question. How do I explain the complexities of adult relationships to someone who, despite her age, is still so young in many ways? "Well," I begin cautiously, "not fighting doesn't always mean they get along well. And there is..."

I stop abruptly, remembering the late-night phone calls from Richard, his voice heavy with frustration as he complained about the lack of intimacy between him and Linda. The thought of discussing my best friend's sex life with his daughter makes me uncomfortable.

But Alison, perceptive as ever, finishes my sentence. "Sex," she says simply.

I'm caught off guard, my mind racing as I try to figure out how to navigate this delicate conversation without overstepping any boundaries.

"Damn," I mutter under my breath, my eyes widening. "What do you know?" I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

Alison's blue eyes meet mine, a hint of sadness in them. "Mom and Dad have slept in separate bedrooms since I was in high school."

I clear my throat, attempting to maintain an appearance of formality. "I see. Unfortunately, it's an important part of a marriage."

"I know," Alison nods, her blonde hair catching the dim patio light. "It's why Mom wasn't happy in her marriage. Dad hasn't tried hard."

I curse internally again. This conversation is venturing into dangerous territory. I shouldn't be discussing my best friend's marriage with his daughter, let alone their sex life. The urge to change the subject is overwhelming.

"So," I say, perhaps a bit too brightly. "What are you going to do about your life, Alison? Started with job hunting?"

Her face lights up, a proud smile replacing the earlier melancholy. "Already got one," she announces.

"No kidding," I reply, genuinely surprised. "What is it, and where?" I can't help but wonder why Richard hasn't mentioned this during our recent phone conversations.

Alison's eyebrows wiggle mischievously as she drops her bombshell. "F. J. Capital."

"What?" I gasp, nearly choking on my beer. The company is owned by Finn Jackson, Richard's longtime rival in the mortgage business. My mind races, trying to make sense of this revelation. "What did your dad say?"

She shrugs nonchalantly, her petite frame belying the weight of her next words. "Nothing. He doesn't know yet. And don't tell him, okay? It's our little secret."

My mouth falls open again. Shit. This is not good. Not good at all.