He's So Fine Read online

  Tanner made a sound of affirmation that didn’t fool Cole for a second, but then he walked off in the opposite direction as Sam.

  Alone, Cole crossed the street and hit the pier. The arcade and Ferris wheel were open until Halloween, and Cole headed straight for the ice cream stand. He bought a chocolate shake from Lance, who ran the stand.

  “Heard you’re dating that hot Unique Boutique chick,” Lance said.

  Lance and Cole went way back. Cole had been a sickly kid, though not like Lance, who had suffered his entire life with cystic fibrosis. The guy meant a whole hell of a lot to Cole, and he was a walking time bomb, which sucked so hard that Cole tried not to think about it much. “I’m not dating anyone,” he said.

  “Tumblr says otherwise,” Lance said.

  Cole groaned, and Lance laughed. “So it’s true? You’re finally seeing someone again?”

  “Not you too,” Cole grumbled.

  “Hey,” Lance said, losing the teasing tone. “Life’s too fucking short, man. You know that better than anyone else I know.”

  True statement. He and Lance bumped fists and then Cole kept moving down the pier, sucking down his shake.

  Ahead was the Ferris wheel, backlit against the deepening purple sky. It was operated by Tiny, the six-foot-nine badass biker who owned both the Ferris wheel and the arcade.

  Tiny wasn’t alone. There was one other person standing there with him, a dark brunette who Cole had no trouble recognizing, even from the back.

  Olivia.

  Olivia stared up at the Ferris wheel, which was lit with strings of lights that twinkled like stars far above. The thing was huge against the quickly darkening sky. Huge, and both a little terrifying and exciting, she thought as she just watched, slurping her chocolate shake.

  She hadn’t had a shake since she was a kid.

  And she’d never been on a real Ferris wheel. She’d been on a pretend one on a set once. She’d also been pretend horseback riding. And on a pretend helicopter.

  Hell, she’d been to the White House.

  Also a set.

  Maybe it was time to start doing stuff for real.

  “You want to buy a ticket?” This was asked by a giant linebacker of a guy in head-to-toe leather and studs. He smiled at her with straight white teeth. “Half off,” he said, “just for you.”

  “Why?” she asked.

  He shrugged his broad-as-a-mountain shoulders. “You’ve been standing here for five minutes looking up at the Ferris wheel like it’s your Kryptonite. You’re either chicken or broke. I figured I’d find out. So…which is it? You want a ticket?”

  No way was she going up alone. “Yeah, I don’t think—”

  “Two tickets.”

  Olivia whirled around and came face-to-face with, of all people, Cole. “What are you doing?” she asked.

  He touched his shake cup to hers. “Same thing as you, apparently.” He turned to Biker Dude. “Hey, Tiny.”

  Tiny?

  The two of them did some complicated male bonding handshake thing, and then Cole pulled a five out of his pocket and handed it over.

  And then she was being ushered onto the Ferris wheel.

  “Wait,” she said, stopping. “Wait a damn minute. I didn’t say yes.”

  “She’s chicken,” Tiny said helpfully. “I thought maybe she was broke, but you just offered to pay for her and she’s still dragging her feet.”

  Cole cocked his head at her. “You’re afraid?”

  Try petrified. “Of course not.”

  He smiled as if delighted by her big, fat, obvious lie.

  Tiny did the same.

  With a low laugh, Cole took her hand.

  “I’m not afraid,” she told him, as if repeating this statement would make it more true, as they—deep breath—took a seat on the ride.

  Tiny locked them in and winked at Olivia.

  “It’s okay,” he said. “I hardly ever kill people on this thing anymore.”

  Oh, God.

  Cole grinned at Tiny.

  Tiny pointed at him. “You get a kiss because of me, you owe me.”

  Cole saluted him and turned to Olivia.

  “You’re not getting a kiss,” she said.

  Ignoring that, he put a big, warm hand over the cold-fingered clench she had on the bar in front of her. “Wait till you get a glimpse of the view from the top,” he said. “You can see everything, the whole world in a glance.”

  “I don’t need to see— Oh, crap,” she whispered as the Ferris wheel jerked and began to move.

  Cole laughed softly but tightened his grip on her hand.

  “This isn’t funny,” she said.

  “It’s okay, I’m right here.”

  She’d been staring down at her shoes to avoid the dizzying view, but she turned to eyeball him. “What are you going to do if we get stuck up here?”

  “Get us unstuck.”

  He said this so calmly, so reasonably, that she had to laugh too, but it was a breathless laugh.

  He sipped at his shake, looking steady as a rock.

  “We’re both drinking shakes,” she said inanely.

  He nodded.

  “And walking the pier,” she said.

  Another nod.

  “Do you do this a lot?” she asked.

  “Always have,” he said. “Started when I was young. I told you I was the runt of the house, right? I’d escape and come here.”

  The idea that he’d had anything to escape from caught at her, even more than the night air in her face, ocean-scented and chilly. “What was wrong at your house?”

  “Estrogen overload in the form of three bossy older sisters,” he said. “Ever been held down and had your hair curled, makeup put on, and your toenails painted?”

  Actually, yes. It was called the makeup trailer. She took in his long, leanly muscled build. He was strong as hell, and she knew it. “You were the runt?” she asked in disbelief.

  “Yep,” he said. “Small and puny. I weighed about eighty-five pounds soaking wet until high school.”

  “What happened in high school?” she asked, unable to help herself.

  “I caught up.” He met her gaze, his smile fading. “So we both came looking for comfort tonight.”

  “I hardly call being a million feet in the air comfort,” she said. And though she hadn’t looked out, she could feel her stomach drop, signaling that they were getting higher. And higher. She closed her eyes.

  “What were you seeking comfort from?” he asked.

  “Oh, no,” she said, shaking her head. “Not going there. Not in space.” Or ever.

  “All right,” he said. “I’ll go first.” She felt him shift slightly and risked a quick peek. He was leaning back now, long legs stretched out in front of him as if he didn’t have a care. He was staring out into the admittedly glorious night, and still they were rising, rising, rising, and she slammed her eyes closed again.

  “I just left a meeting with Sam and Tanner,” he said casually. “It was a good meeting. Our business is solid, we’re solid. But it’s a lot of pressure to keep up with our expectations. Open your eyes, Olivia.”

  She squeezed them tighter. “Hell no.”

  She felt him shift again, felt his arm settle along the back of the bench, brushing her shoulders comfortingly, his fingers lightly stroking the nape of her neck.

  She shivered. “Still no.”

  Something brushed her jaw. His mouth? Her entire body tightened at the thought and her eyes flew involuntarily open.

  And met his.

  It wasn’t his mouth touching her, it was his thumb, though he was close enough that they could—and did—share their next breath. He stroked her jaw again. “We’re at the top.”

  Chapter 11

  We’re at the top…

  That’s what Olivia used to hear every week when the ratings would come in. And then the network would shower her with love and appreciation, and life would go on.

  Until it’d come to a crashing halt.