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Cole: Chapter 13

COLE

“So, is this the part where I ask you what you do for a living?” Molly asked.

I chuckled. “That depends.”

She tilted her head. “On what?”

I shrugged. “On whether or not you want to know what I do for a living.”

She snickered. “All right, Cole. What is it that you do for a living?”

“Well, I’m currently a mechanic in a bike shop.”

“Oh, nice! How long have you been doing that now? Do you enjoy it?”

I leaned forward, resting my forearms on the table. “Eh, a few years now. I was in the army before that.”

She gawked. “You served? For how long?”

“Six years before I decided I wanted my life to be filled with something else.”

She grew those puppy dog eyes that told me someone pitied me. “Thank you for your service, Cole. I’d never be able to do something like that. I can’t imagine some of the things you’ve seen.”

Yeah, and we aren’t getting into it. “It’s amazing what one person is capable of when put in a situation where the only option they have is to fight.”

Her cheeks puffed out with a sigh. “That’s also very true.”

I cleared my throat. “So, I know you’re a nanny for a living. Is that a part-time gig or a full-time one?”

She smiled softly and leaned back in her chair. “Full-time. I’m not a live-in nanny or anything, though it helps that my clients live less than five minutes from me. I’ve been watching their two kiddos for about four years now.”

“And their dog.”

She giggled. “Yes, and their dog, Max.”

“What made you want to be a nanny? I mean, it sounds great and all, but I kind of get the feeling that ‘being a nanny’ isn’t something a little girl dreams about being when she grows up. I mean, not that it’s a bad thing, I just—”

She barked with laughter. “It’s totally okay, I understand what you’re asking.”

I sighed. “Thank fuck, because that went off the rails quickly.”

Her laughter died down before she spoke again. “At first, it was born out of necessity. After I graduated college, I had a hard time finding a job in the field I specialized in. I needed a higher dedication to education than I realized going in, and I didn’t have the money to pursue the Master’s degree that I wanted.”

My head fell off to the side. “What did you major in?”

She sighed. “You really want to know?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“All right but promise me one thing.”

“Sure, shoot.”

Her stare held my own. “Don’t laugh.”

I furrowed my brow. “That won’t be an issue. I don’t see why you getting an education is funny.”

She crossed her leg over her knee. “I got my degree in Fermentation Studies from Appalachian State.”

I stared at her for a long time as I mentally turned over the information she had just poured forth from that tongue of hers.

“So, you got your degree in… making wine.”

Molly rolled her eyes. “It’s a bit more complicated than that, but essentially that’s the gist of it.”

I chewed on the inside of my cheek to keep from chuckling. “Wine making. And that required a higher form of education you didn’t want to get?”

She narrowed her eyes. “You want to laugh, don’t you?”

I tried my hardest not to smile as I shook my head. “Not at all.”

She plucked a paper napkin from the dispenser and threw it at me. “You suck, you know that?”

I drew in a deep breath as I let the napkin flutter to the floor. “What was the dream with that one? Huh? Did you want to make your own wine out of bath water or something?”

She groaned. “I hate you.”

I smirked. “Hey, that’s a world record for me. I usually can’t get women out on a date first before they start hating me.”

She shot me a look. “Look, I had a dream when I was a teenager that one day I’d own my own little winery. I’d create all of these concoctions and I’d live in this miniature castle with acres of growing grapes and I’d enjoy the romance and atmosphere of it all. At one point in time, I even wanted to move to Italy. You know, buy out one of their smaller vineyards and really live the life.”

My smirk turned into a genuine smile. “That… actually doesn’t sound that bad. It makes your degree make more sense.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, well, I figured I could be unique and really get to know all about the techniques of fermentation and learn about vineyard establishment and all of that shit.”

“So, what happened? Why didn’t you jet off to Italy and pursue your dream?”

She swallowed hard. “There’s a reason why people who want their own business get a Business degree. What I should have done was make Business my major and I should have pulled a minor in Fermentation Sciences. By the time I graduated, it was either use my knowledge to obtain a Master’s in Business so I have all of the information at my disposal, or risk at least half a million dollars on a venture I was only partially ready for.”

“So, you decided to nanny.”

“So, I decided I needed to first save up the money on my own. That’s what the nannying job is for. I live on what I need, I don’t own anything extravagant, and one of these years I’m going to own my own vineyard with the knowledge I’ve gained from my college experience as well as the textbooks I’m reading that Business Schools use all over the country. They aren’t cheap books, but I’ve learned a hell of a lot so far.”

I was in awe of her, and her drive, and her dreams. “Well, if anyone can do it, it’s you. Because if there’s anything I’ve learned in life, it’s that you have to be passionate about what you’re doing. And I can definitely tell you’re passionate about this.”

Her cheeks blushed. “Thanks. I appreciate that.”

While I felt like shit for not telling her the whole truth about my time in the army–or about the patch on my arm–I still enjoyed our date. We placed our order and continued talking until we had so much food in front of us that we couldn’t do anything else but shut up and stuff ourselves stupid. I was simply glad that we had opted for a slightly later lunch.

Because if I played my cards right with our time, we’d be taking our private walk on the beach around sunset.

“My God,” Molly said with her mouth full, “this food is insanely good. How have I never been here before?”

I chuckled as I stabbed at a piece of crab. “Not a lot of people know this little place exists, and I think they keep it that way for a reason. They have unfettered fishing access on this little stretch of beach land that they sit on, and it makes for some seriously good food. Their fish specials change with the catch every day, and you should eat the kind of shit they can throw down for breakfast.”

She quirked her eyebrow. “Seafood for breakfast?”

I pointed my fork at her. “Trust me, I’ll treat you to it sometime. It’s to fucking die for.”

We kept stealing glances at one another and running our conversations into territory that I had to steer out of, but I didn’t mind. I mean, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell her any of this shit, it was just that it wasn’t the kind of shit you told someone on a first date. Eventually, I’d tell her about my PTSD. About my nightmares. About how Opie is really my service dog from the bullshit I saw while I was a combat medic in the army.

But that certainly wasn’t the type of stuff one talked about on a first date.

“So, Appalachian State. That’s on the East Coast, right?” I asked.

Molly nodded as she took a bite of her shrimp scampi. “It is, yes. In the mountains of North Carolina, to be exact.”

“So, what brought you to the West Coast?”

“Oh! I grew up here. In San Diego, actually. I went to North Carolina for college but found my way back after I came up with the plan I’m pursuing now.”

“Nice, nice. How far into saving up are you for this vineyard dream of yours?”

She bounced her head softly before she took another bite of food. “About fifty grand in.”

My eyebrows rose. “That’s pretty impressive.”

She shrugged. “Eh, it’s not nearly the kind of money I need to start this thing. But I figure if I can really knuckle down and keep saving at the rate I am, in another eight years I’ll have the money I need for a down payment for a place. The rest I can loan out like any regular business owner, and then I can get to work.”

“Is the dream still Italy? Because California has some really decent vineyards that have gone downhill in recent years.”

She paused. “Yes, I know. How do you know that?”

I grinned. “A guy can have his secrets, can’t he? The truth of the matter was, I once had a friend-with-benefits situation with a girl that was a wine-o nut. She was constantly making me tag along with her to “wine country.”

She smiled. “I’m familiar with it. I travel up there to treat myself every once in a while. Every year, I treat myself to a weekend there full of wine tastings, touring the properties, and picking the brains of the owners and the parts of their operations that they’re willing to talk about.”

I held out my hand. “See? That shit sounds like a great time. All this chick wanted to do was go, get drunk, make an ass out of herself, then pass out on the floor of our hotel room.”

“How unadventurous of her. The least she could do is fall asleep right on that dick, you know?”

I almost choked on my food as I laughed. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

Dinner was effortless, and I had never experienced something like that before. We kept talking and eating. We sat there long enough to get ourselves in the mood for coffee and dessert. And by the time I settled the tab, the sun was in its prime position.

So, I whisked Molly away to our final destination.

“Where are we headed now!?” she exclaimed over the wind rushing around us.

I love the way she clings to me. “We’re going to go work down our food with a nice walk on the beach! It’s almost sunset. How’s that sound!?”

She pressed her cheek against my back. “Sounds perfect, Cole.”

I smiled the entire way to the beach I had in mind. We pulled off the highway and I inched my bike down a narrow road that led directly into a white patch of sand with its own private beach. Even though there were cars whizzing ahead of us, the alcove of the beach acted like a sound-filtering mechanism that only allowed the people standing in its wake to enjoy the sounds of the ocean while blocking out the sounds from above, and I loved it. This place was my safe spot. My haven for when my soul needed rest. And as I spread my leather jacket onto the sand, I took Molly’s hand and we both sat down.

Before her head fell against my shoulder.

“This is beautiful, Cole. Do you come here often?”

I nodded. “When things get to be a bit too much, yeah.”

She scooted a little closer to me. “Well, thank you for bringing me here. This is much better than you taking me home.”

I peered down at her. “Yeah?”

She looked up at me. “Yeah.”

And as our lips hovered deathly close to each other, I decided to take a risk. I let my lips fall against hers as I lightly captured them, hoping and praying she wouldn’t push me away.

Her body stiffened, which signaled to me that I might have made a mistake. But my body told me to hold steady. To stay there and allow her to experience it however she wished.

Then, she turned toward me as her tongue pressed against the slit of my lips.


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