Here's another jazz song: That Red Head Gal by the Atlantic Dance Orchestra
XXVI: Bubble
IT'S BEEN A STRANGE FEW DAYS. A permanent goofy grin had been etched on my face since I saw the house, in all it's baby pink glory. This embarrassingly huge grin stayed, because Cole has been...Cole.
We've done the most silly touristy things I could ever think of. We've gone on a steamboat along the Mississippi River, dined in the some of the local spots where I could never have envisioned New York City's favorite playboy billionaire, and explored the streets of the timeless French Quarters.
Sitting beside him in the library, I watch him over the top of my book as he responds to some emails back home. His foot taps along to the beat emanating from the vintage record player, and I can't help to look on at the carefree look in his eyes. I can't help but notice the tension gone from his shoulders, the smirk back on his soft lips, his dirty blond hair in a disarray. He was clothed in khakis and a soft blue button-down. I realized then that the last time I saw him out of a suit was in Napa, when I finally surrendered to him.
I think I like Casual Cole more than Monkeysuit Cole. He looks like himself now, like the silly, wild man I fell for. He's much different from the one I left behind in the city, the one I argue with and kick out of my house on a regular basis.
I was reminded then of when we still weren't together and we were flirty and fun with one another. Now I had him back, but for how long? Until our week here was up and we had to return to reality?
His phone buzzed beside him. Cole glanced at the screen before looking up at me and finding that my eyes were already on him. He shot me an apologetic look and pointed at the phone as an apology.
I signed as I watched him close the door, cutting out the sound of the music. I followed by shutting my book and sitting up.
Where was my common sense? I knew this would happen. I knew it when he fought for my attentions in California, I knew he would hurt me. I knew it when we arrived back and I saw him with Gemma Hamilton. I knew it then and I know it now, yet it took me seeing him with his work to be reminded of what awaits when we return from this fantasy.
We are good when we're away, I see that now. In our own little Cole and Poppy bubble. But that bubble is too fragile, it bursts as soon as we float back into reality.
Getting up, I placed my book back on the shelf and I switched off the 1923 Atlantic Dance Orchestra vinyl. I was met by silence, until Cole opened the door and stepped back inside.
"Choosing a new record?" he asked with a smile.
"No," I said softly. "I thought I'd turn in for the night."
"Oh." Cole said a moment later. "But we haven't even had dinner yet."
"I'm quite tired," I said lamely. He registered my mood and wisely didn't push me.
"Goodnight then." I turned and looked at him with a polite look. He looked torn--almost as if he wanted to say something but couldn't. Cole's icy blues looked confused. He was trying to figure out what he did wrong.
He didn't do anything. He just reminded me that life can't always be French pastries and jazz records. "Night, Poppy."
I nodded and stepped around him to leave but his hand pulled me back. There was so much longing and emotion swimming in his eyes, so much confusion, regret even.
Wordlessly he leaned forward, staring deep into my eyes. I froze when he was but a breath away and pulled back. His lips landed on my cheek, on the corner of my mouth. I tingled everywhere, and I knew if I didn't walk out that door then he and I would end up exploring the coat closet in the foyer.
Im not sure who moved first. But one moment we were standing frozen in the library and the next I was pressed against the wall of books.
I was so rash when it came to Cole, he infected me with compulsiveness. It was alluring, like a good wine. Intoxicating like an aged whiskey, strong like Moonshine. Sweet like a cocktail, equal parts bubbly and exciting like champagne. His is taste tangy and sweet, both subtle and strong--he makes me drunk with just a taste.
He groaned and deepened the kiss. I gasped, twisting my tongue with his. The fervor was there, the hunger, the thirst brewing since the last time we had been this desperate for each other bubbled to the surface.
That was the first and last time I shared my body with him, over a year ago at that Christmas party. The day I met this wicked tongued, blue eyed demon.
His hands snaked down my sides, and he gave an appreciative moan as he squeezed my arse like the night of the gala for my charity fund.
Cole's phone buzzed again, interrupting us just as my fingers had snaked under his shirt to feel his washboard abs.
It sprung me back to reality and with a start I pushed him back. Cole leaned his forehead against mine and sighed. "Sure I can't persuade you to have dinner with me?"
I stepped around him and blushed, "I doubt I could sit still through it. Not after..."
He smirked, the look he gave me was equal parts hot and teasing, "I'll make it quick." The double meaning wasn't lost on me. "One course then straight to dessert."
I blushed again and shook my head, "I'll be going off to bed now."
He watched me leave, but I lingered behind the closed door. I heard Cole sigh then groan, and I could practically imagine him running his hands through his wild hair. "I'm such a freaking idiot," he muttered, "Everything was going to plan. I just had to go and kiss her."
I TOSSED AND TURNED ALL NIGHT. Thoughts of his lips on me kept me up until late and woke me up early. Wrapped in the Egyptian cotton sheets and my hair spread all over the feather pillows, I couldn't help but stare at the ceiling in exasperation.
Cole Richmond confused me, he utterly and completely confused me. We were so different, he was the blistering fire to my cool ice, yet somehow outside the boundaries of the Upper East side we fit like two old puzzle pieces.
With a frown, I pushed the hot covers off and readied myself for a cold shower. The water felt good against my overheated skin, cool and refreshing.
When I emerged dressed in khaki shorts and a dove grey v-neck, I felt shy. They way I left things yesterday...it wasn't one of my proudest moments.
I passed the sweet voluptuous woman that took care of the property going down the stairs. She smiled and tipped her chin down ever so slightly, "Ma'am."
I nodded at her in greeting, "Good day, Lucy. How do you do?"
"Just dandy, ma'am. Looks like the sun is toning down today. It'll agree with your complexion."
I sighed in relief. The Louisiana sun could be brutal, and I've already begun to burn a bit on my shoulders. "That's great news!"
She sent me another kind smile, her warm cocoa eyes taking in my wary expression. "Mister Cole is in the kitchen. He's having breakfast."
"I-I'll go join him, thank you."
She held up the laundry basket in her hands and offered me a reassuring look, "Well these clothes won't wash themselves. Enjoy yourself Miss Poppy."
I went off on my way and entered the kitchen, my footsteps muted by my soft brown leather boots.
Cole looked up when the door swung closed behind me. His eyes brightened and a big smile shaped his lips. "Hey."
"Erm hello."
I stood frozen for a second, my fingers tangled behind my back. He popped a strawberry in his mouth and pointed with his fork to the seat across from him in the island. I pushed off the closed door and walked forward to pull the stool away to sit down.
"Lucy put on a pot of tea for you."
"Thank you." My hands reached for the pot. When I picked it up the porcelain top rattled with how shaky my hands were.
I managed to serve a cup and then dug into the fruit salad in front of me. The berries were sweet and juicy.
I stopped eating when I realized Cole was studying me. I chewed slowly and swallowed, mumbling a muffled, "What?"
The smallest of smiles graced his lips before he stood, "Nothing. Once you've finished, we can go."
"What's on the itinerary today?" I asked taking a sip of the tea.
"We're taking a couple's cooking class." I choked on my drink and slammed the delicate--and most likely antique--tea cup down.
"Cooking class?" I asked with uncertainty lacing my voice.
He smiled, "After our pottery class."
I gave a snort and leaned forward to rest my chin on my palm. "Pottery class? What's next on this team building retreat?"
Cole have me a pointed look and walked around the island towards me. He spun me on the stool and stepped between my knees. I was too surprised to move a muscle.
He leaned his hands on the counter behind me, effectively trapping me, and smiled a predatory smile. "Then we're going to a couple's dance class. Got a problem with that, White?"
I gulped and shook my head. He smiled and nodded once, "Good. We leave in twenty."
I watched him go, and only once the door was closed behind him did I exhale and sag against the counter.
A day of activities to force us to bond, but why?And what about last night's kiss, was he just going to pretend it didn't happen?
Oh how my head hurt. Eating my breakfast and contemplating the complicated mind of Cole Richmond, all I could do was pout and chew.
I LOST COUNT OF ALL THE TIMES I BLUSHED TODAY. In our pottery class, all the women had given us not-so subtle looks while the older retired ladies didn't withhold their glee at watching the way Cole fretted over me.
When my clumsy hands had destroyed the clump of clay into a pile of mush, Cole had sat behind me and held my hands, gently guiding my fingers to sculpt the general shape of a vase.
The teacher had nearly swooned on the spot and even changed the music to the Righteous Brothers' Unchained Melody. I of course was mortified, even more when the ladies started calling Cole "Sam" at which I had rolled my eyes at.
I admit I had enjoyed myself, I had even decided to let last night's kiss go. After all, he hadn't brought it up or acted weird about it.
Spending the day learning to make Gumbo wasn't as blush-worthy as the pottery class except for the very end when Cole offered me the wooden spoon to taste. With my eyes closed I had leaned in expecting to taste the warm stew but instead I got a kiss. It was safe to say it got a little heated in the kitchen, to the point where we attracted the attention of the other couples.
One in particular stuck out. They smiled wide, identical grins and asked if we were on our honeymoon too.
My eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Oh no," I had said, "we're not--"
Cole had kissed the back of my palm then to hide my bare left finger and smiled at the couple. "Mrs. Richmond and I are just visiting."
The bride had offered me a conspiratorial look and a big thumbs up while Cole shook the groom's hand.
Dancing, I soon realized, was painful. Cole was very hard to keep up with, partly due to his ability to do just about anything but also because I have the grace of a three-legged elephant. Finally the instructor took pity on me and we transitioned from the jitter bug to a slow waltz.
Cole dipped me, and for a second it was perfect. But then he leaned in and I panicked. I lost my balance on my heel-clad foot and tumbled to the ground.
Cole stared down at me with wide eyes before laughing so hard he was gasping for air on the smooth wooden floors beside me.
"Oh no!" The dance instructor shrieked. "Baby girl are you alright?"
Embarrassed, I laughed and rolled over to hide my face in the crook of his neck. Cole's laughs finally faded away and he lightly ran his hand down the length of my messy hair. "C'mon, I think you've had enough."
He stood and pulled me up with him. With a courteous thank you to the instructor, Cole lead me out of the dance studio and towards our car.
THE DRIVE BACK TO THE FRENCH QUARTERS LULLED ME TO SLEEP. It wasn't until the car was parked in front of our pink place in the Garden District that I finally woke.
"Let's get you to bed," Cole said softly. I gave a groggy nod and stepped out of the car.
I didn't have the energy to climb the stairs by myself. Cole had to help me all the way to my room, and even then I was too exhausted with the day's events to do so much as stand let alone prepare for bed.
"Thank you for today," I said to him when my room doors closed behind us.
He signed and nodded, "I'm trying here, Poppy. I'm really trying."
I felt something break inside me. Here he was being the sweet man I fell for, taking me out of the city and planning a whole week of fun for us to rekindle our relationship and what have I done to fix us? Run for the hills, hide in my room, hide within myself.
I looked up at his beautiful face illuminated by the moonlight and shook my head sadly. I wanted this, I want him. More than that, I need him with me. He's what I've been waiting for, if only we could make it work when it's not just the two of us.
She's gone, a voice in my head reminded me; he chose me over her.
Biting my lip, my hand came up to caress his cheek. It was scratchy with his five o'clock shadow but it was a feeling I've come to appreciate. His breath hitched when my fingers moved around to tangle in the hair on the nape of his neck.
"Poppy," he said in a soft, gentle warning. I wasn't sure what he was so worried about, wasn't this what he wanted last night when he kissed me?
"Hmmm?" I hummed as I leaned up on the tips of my toes and kissed the skin at the base of his neck. I felt his pulse on my lips, racing at a hundred miles per hour.
"I don't want to rush us," he whispered.
I frowned a little in confusion. Not waiting to see if he'd elaborate, I clutched his hair firmly and pulled his head down to mine.
I felt his groan vibrate through me, down down all the way to the tips of my toes. My hands snaked down his firm chest and slid under the thin cotton of his shirt.
Our lips smashed, our teeth clashed, tongues fought, hands explored. He touched me like he knew exactly what he was doing, like he remembered that night in the supply closet. I was his familiar, he knew, he remembered.
My shirt was ripped off and thrown across the room, my hair freed from its sloppy ponytail. We stumbled down on the bed, Cole's body pressing down on me, his weight a reminder of how real our reality in this fantasy was.
His knee was between my own, my hands stoking down the curve of his naked spine to the brown leather belt low on his hips.
His lips never left mine as his hands took mine and he pinned them on either side of my head. Cole pulled back for a second, gasping, and simply looked down at me in my shorts and white bra.
"I thought you were tired," he breathed.
My chest rose up and down as I fought to control my breathing, "I'm suddenly very awake."
"What brought this on, Poppy?" He said, his voice low.
I shrugged and he raised an eyebrow. He was received by silence, one he obviously didn't appreciate, and pursed his lips. With deliberate ease, he dipped his head and pressed a kiss on my left collarbone.
His lips skimmed down between the valley of pale skin that almost blended into the bra and down my belly, leaving a trail of kisses as he went.
Cole paused on the button of my shorts and raised his head. "I'll ask again, Poppy: why the change of heart? Last night you practically flew upstairs after I kissed you."
I squirmed under his weight, at the touch of his skin, at the thrill of his hands pinning my fisted ones against the feather duvet. "Well?"
"I don't know, Cole. You've brought me where you can listen to Etta James all day long, the best I can do is try to laugh."
His eyes shine with some unidentifiable emotion, and then his lips were on mine again. Softer this time, slower. Sweeter.
Cole freed my hands and instinctively they came up to caress his face. He tapped my hip and I responded a moment later, rising up so he could pull the covers down.
My hands slid down his toned abs and paused at his belt buckle. Cole pulled away fast and leaned back on his heels.
His eyes looked conflicted as he stared down at me, my burgundy hair spread like spilled wine on the white sheets. Finally he leaned forward to unbutton my shorts, and I helped him slide them down my legs.
I reached for him but he swung himself off the bed. Next thing I know the duvet was up to my shoulders. Cole pressed a kiss on my forehead and stepped away.
"Sleep Poppy."
"B-But I thought..." I rose up to my elbows and stared at his figure leaning against the vanity across from the bed.
He shook his head and bent to pick up his shirt. "I'm not going to fuck up this week. I have plans for us, plans that won't happen if I stay here tonight."
I shook my head as if to clear it, "What plans?"
Cole smiled and blushed, or at least I think he did. It was hard to tell, it was so dark. "You'll see soon. Goodnight, love."
"Hey. I'm the English one here, love."
Cole let out a weak laugh and turned to leave. "Fine then, I'll try again. Goodnight, my love."
My jaw fell slack, but before I could say anything he was gone.
I fell back on the soft mattress and rolled over to scream into the pillows. He just called me his love...he's never called me that before.
I curled up and smiled into the cool covers. Could it be--was he in love with me?
I already was, maybe since the moment I saw his icy blues at that Christmas party.
Maybe even before that. Maybe I've loved him all my life, and I've just barely realized it.
And now I think he has too.