Page 6 of Falling for Cocky Cole (Shared by the Carter Brothers #2)

IVY

I 'm sitting cross-legged on Emily's bedroom floor, helping her arrange a tiny tea party for her stuffed animals, when I hear the front door open.

My hands freeze mid-pour over a miniature teacup.

Grant is home. I check my watch—six o'clock, right on time.

My heart does that stupid flutter thing it's been doing for weeks now, but I push the feeling down.

It's been seven days since he kissed me, seven days of careful distance and polite smiles.

Seven days of pretending nothing happened.

"Daddy's home!" Emily abandons Mr. Foxy and Princess Sparkleberry, rushing out of the room with the thundering enthusiasm only a five-year-old can muster.

I stand up, smoothing my jeans and sweater, taking a deep breath before following her at a more measured pace.

By the time I reach the hallway, Emily is already in Grant's arms, chattering about her day while he listens with that focused attention he gives his daughter—like she's the only person in the world.

He looks up when I appear, and our eyes meet over Emily's honey-blonde head. His gray-blue gaze is unreadable as always.

"Hello, Ivy," he says, his deep voice formal.

"Hi, Grant." My reply is equally professional, betraying none of the electricity I feel crackling between us.

Emily squirms to be put down and tugs at her father's hand. "Daddy, you have to see my drawing! Miss Ivy helped me make a picture of Carter Ridge with ALL the cabins!"

Grant smiles at his daughter. "Just give me a minute with Miss Ivy first, okay, Em? I need to hear about your day."

Emily nods and skips back toward her room, leaving us alone in the entryway. The sudden quiet feels heavy.

"So," Grant says, setting down his keys on the small table by the door. "How did it go today?"

I force myself to meet his eyes, to act normal. "Great. Emily finished all her lunch today, even the carrots. We practiced writing her name, read three books, and spent some time drawing. She had a small meltdown when her crayon broke, but we worked through it."

Grant nods, absorbing the information. "That's good. The carrots are a win. She usually hides them in her napkin."

"I know. She tried that trick on me the first day." I smile despite myself. "I told her foxes love carrots, and she didn't want to disappoint Mr. Foxy."

A small laugh escapes him, and the sound makes my stomach tighten. I haven't heard him laugh much since I started working here.

"Clever," he says, and I see a hint of warmth in his eyes before they shutter again.

I glance at my watch. "Well, I should get going.”

"Right, of course." He follows me as I grab my bag from the kitchen counter and head toward the front door. "How are your parents doing? The farm?"

The question surprises me. "They're okay. Harvest season has started, so they're busy."

Grant nods, his hands in his pockets, standing closer than necessary as I reach for the door. "Cole mentioned he's been talking with your parents about some potential deals. For Carter Ridge to purchase products from Walkers' farm."

I can't help but smile. "Really? I didn't know he was serious about that."

"So he has mentioned it to you?" Grant's expression changes subtly, a slight narrowing of his eyes.

"He brought it up at the farmers' market last weekend. Just said something about featuring Walker products at Carter Ridge. I thought he was just making conversation."

Grant shakes his head. "I thought he was joking at first too, but I was wrong. I've never seen Cole so serious about a business proposal before."

I don't know what to say to that. The skepticism in Grant's eyes makes me hesitate. Is he worried about Cole's motives? Or the viability of the partnership?

"He might've been impulsive," I say hurriedly. "I'll understand if you can't go along with the proposal."

"That's not what I'm saying," Grant replies quickly. "I'm considering it. It's not a bad idea at all. I just want to make sure your family's farm can provide a steady supply of the goods we'd need."

I pause, suddenly feeling like I'm in the middle of something I don't fully understand. "I'm not sure about the details. You could ask my parents directly if you want. They'd know better than I would."

I dig in my purse and pull out my phone, pulling up my contacts. "Here's my dad's number. He's the one to talk to about this."

Grant takes out his phone and I recite the number while he punches it in. His fingers are long and strong, with calluses that speak of hard work. I remember the feel of those hands on my face when he kissed me. I look away.

"Thanks. I'll give him a call," Grant promises, slipping his phone back into his pocket.

I nod and reach for the doorknob again. This time, I'm actually going to leave before my face betrays me.

"Wait," Grant says suddenly.

I turn back, my heart leaping stupidly. "Yes?"

He opens his mouth, then closes it. "Did Cole—" he starts, then shakes his head. "Never mind. Drive safe."

There's something in his expression I can't decipher, but before I can ask, he's opened the door for me, and the cool evening air rushes in.

"Thanks. I will. See you tomorrow morning," I say, and step outside.

The door closes behind me with a soft click, and I stand there for a second, wondering what he was going to say. Something about Cole. What about Cole?

I climb into my Subaru and start the engine, letting out a long breath as I pull away from Grant’s house.

The kiss from last week replays in my mind again—the way Grant had cupped my face in his hands, the surprising softness of his lips despite the scruff of his beard, the way he'd pulled back and immediately apologized.

But I haven't forgotten. And judging by the way he still looks at me sometimes, neither has he.

As I drive the winding mountain roads back to my parents’ place, I can’t stop thinking about Grant’s unfinished question. Did Cole what? Did he mean, Did Cole make you his conquest? Or Did Cole show up at the farmers’ market to charm my parents?

I grip the steering wheel tighter. Whatever it was, Grant thought better of asking. And maybe that's for the best. I'm already in over my head with one Carter brother—I don't need to complicate things further by analyzing every word from the other.