“What?!” I yelped. I was the absolute worst at playing it cool about anything. Of course, heat flashed into my cheeks.
Casey happened to be walking out from the kitchen and glanced across the counter. Her brows arched high. “Whoa. I think maybe you might have a thing for Cole,” she teased lightly.
“I do not,” I said, almost primly. “I donothave a thing for Cole. Or for anybody.”
“What’s wrong with having a thing for Cole? He’s a nice guy and pretty easy on the eyes.” The teasing look in Casey’s eyes held, but faded slightly.
“Nothing. I just… I don’t know. I don’t have a thing for Cole.”
“Okay. I won’t point out anything about you maybe protesting too much.”
Janet was busy wiping down the espresso machine and glanced up with a brow waggle. I bit back a sigh.
“Bye,” I said a little too loudly as I left.
Chapter Twelve
COLE
Four bags & a heartbeat
“Cole, hon, I need you over at the barn,” my mother said.
“Me?” I gestured to myself.
“I said your name,” she replied tartly.
I eyed her warily. “Why do you need me over there?”
“Adele needs help moving in.”
Of course I wanted to see Adele, but I wasn’t about to say that out loud. Not around this crowd.
“She has a heart condition,” my mother added.
I knew she said that to elicit twinges of guilt, and it was completely effective.
I tried to hedge. “Excuse me? You hired her to help us lead hikes, and now you’re saying she can’t move into an apartment?”
Before my mother could reply, Tommy, who was busy getting something ready in the kitchen, chimed in, “I already told you, I like you and Adele together. I’m the matchmaker in this family.”
“You’re the cook,” I pointed out, deciding to ignore this entire line of conversation around Adele.
“I’m thechef,” Tommy corrected, with great dignity.
“Please help Adele. We want her to feel welcome,” my mother pressed.
“Of course I’ll help her, Mom,” I ground out.
“Enough with the attitude. You know you want to see her.”
I refused to even make eye contact with my mother at that comment. She’d read right through me. “When’s she gonna be here?” I glanced at the clock on the wall above the doorway.
“She’s probably already there.”
“And you’re not over there to help?” I questioned.
“I’m not. I’m old and my knees aren’t in the best shape.” This from my mother who almost never acknowledged any weakness.
