He gives a slight nod. “Okay, I’ll come.”
Then he gets out of the car, stumbling a little. Cole, bless him, doesn’t hesitate to get out and wrap an arm around Harry’s shoulder. He gets him to the stoop like that. I get out and go with them, and by the time we reach the front door, Tina’s opening it, a look of surprise and worry on her face.
“Harry? Safe word, stat.”
“Blue balls.”
Cole and I exchange a look, and something about the natural way it happened, our eyes seeking each other out, makes me smile.
Something settles on Tina’s face, and she wraps an arm around his shoulders. “I was so fucking worried. I thought the devil woman might have turned you into an ottoman or something.” Then she shrugs to me. “Sorry.”
“Valid fear,” I say. “As is, she dosed his drink with moonshine, and he hasn’t eaten anything for twenty-four hours. I think he needs a burger or something super heavy on the carbs.”
“I’ll send some food over from the bar,” Cole offers. It strikes me with some wonder that he’s still here, still helping, even though he’d probably much rather be doing anything else.
“It’s fine,” Tina says. “I always have spaghetti in the fridge.”
Harry mutters something about wanting anything but spaghetti, but she rolls her eyes. “You’ll eat it, and you’ll like it.” Then, “Oh, my God. I sound like my nonna. Thank you for bringing him back, Holly. I have about two dozen questions.” She pauses, her gaze assessing as it moves between Cole and me. “Including about the matching sweatpants thing you two have going on. But it’s been a hell of a night, and I’m going to drown myself in grappa before I start asking. We’ll talk later.”
“Sure,” I say. “Harry is going to come by to see the house tomorrow.”
She nods. “Good. It’s a plan.”
I can hear Zach, somewhere in the house, talking in a raised voice on the phone. Is he talking to his sister? I’m curious, but it’s obvious that Tina’s not ready to talk the whole thing through, so we say our goodbyes, and she shuts the door, leaving Cole and me together on the stoop.
“So, that was a whole thing,” I say, smiling. “I’ll bet you’re happy you get to drop me off.”
“No,” he says hesitantly. “I wouldn’t say that, but…”
“But you’ve had enough of me and my poisoning grandmother for one night?”
“No, that’s not exactly what I’d say either,” he says with a slight crook to his mouth. “Only maybe we’d better call it a night.”
There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach, because there’s been something magical about tonight—I mean, not for Harry obviously—and if we end it now, it feels like the spell might break. I don’t want to go back to the Holly and Cole that we were, always at each other’s necks.
I’d rather kiss his neck…or bite it.
But I’d also rather not be the kind of woman who makes a man pull a face and think,stage-five clinger, so I say, “Yes, maybe we’d better.”
