Page 46 of Lethal Threat

Cole grabs my bag from the backseat and opens the passenger door for me. When he offers an arm, I slide my hand inside the crook of his elbow, just below the bulging muscle.

Blustery air swirls around us. My teeth start to chatter. “When you said it was going to be cold, I seriously underestimated what that would feel like.”

Shivering sets in within seconds. I scoot closer to him so he blocks the wind. My sweater is useless against the invasion. It must be thirty degrees colder than it was in Virginia.

Soon I’m tucked against Cole and he’s moving his arm so it’s wrapped around me. Angling his body, he takes the brunt of the onslaught, unfazed by the wind, even though he’s only wearing a long sleeve thermal t-shirt.

It’s a shirt which I like immensely because the fabric shows the finely shaped muscles of his shoulders. Plus, I like how he pushes up the sleeves to reveal those mesmerizing forearms.

When we reach the top of the stairs on his porch, he positions his body to block the wind. “It won’t take long to warm the place up. I left the heat turned up because I knew a storm was coming in.”

There’s a sleek digital keypad mounted to the left of the front door. Modern updates. Upon closer inspection, not everything about the place is rustic, a state-of-art security system and an elaborate lock for starters.

Cole enters a code with quick jabs of his index finger. A light flashes, a tone sounds as he turns the knob. The door hinge squeaks faintly as he pushes the heavy wooden slab open.

I’m vibrating with curiosity. How does he live? What does Cole like?

“Welcome to Shangri-La.” There’s an air of pride in his tone.

His paradise.

A beautiful mountain cabin in the woods in Utah.

It suits him and I don’t need to know much to understand that.

As I step through the threshold, I’m filled with awe. The place is incredible. The floor plan is inviting, yet open. It’s easy to see the entire place is finely crafted.

Plush couches square off in front of a large hearth. A finely made wooden desk sits by the window. Everything is bold but classic.

Did he pick all of this out?

I’m hit with the warm smells of cinnamon, leather, cedar, and the lingering scent of Cole.

A flash of something crosses my mind. Not quite like déjà vu but enough of a sensation to make my feet falter and cause my body to sway.

In the wake of the almost-memory, a wave of nausea hits me.

God.What is that feeling?

I suck in a sharp breath as tension knots along my spine.

Instantly, Cole is tuned in to me. With lightning speed, he reaches out and catches my arm in his warm, steady hand. “You okay, sweetheart?”

I wipe a hand across my face. My fingers are shaking. “I’m not sure, something about being here… I just… I almost remembered, then I felt weird. Sort of sick, upset. Disturbed. Something. I can’t even find words for it.”

His eyes narrow as his expression darkens. The line of his mouth tightens, and his fingers flex on my arm. “You need rest.”

Before I can protest, he’s swept me into his arms and he’s climbing a set of long wooden stairs.

Chapter Seventeen

COLE

My shoulder protests as I flip over on my back again. There’s a metric ton of grit in my eyes. My mood is grittier.

I need to sleep. I need…

A do-over. No, maybe a new start would be better.