Beautifully Broken Pieces (The Sutter Lake Series Book 1) Read online

She scowled. “It takes you two hours to drink a beer?”

  “Not all of us are lushes.” I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. Taylor’s face reddened even further. “Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I’ve just had a shitty day.” And I had. Between thoughts of Taylor distracting me, relentless texts from Caitlin, and still being unable to find the missing hiker or the woman from Willow Creek, I was about ready to snap.

  Taylor ran her tongue across her bottom lip. My teeth clenched. “Can we just forget that last night happened? I was wasted, I had no idea what I was doing.”

  Those molars of mine ground even harder together. It was for the best to play along. To let Taylor believe I bought the I-was-just-drunk act. “Of course. Come on, hop out of the pool, and I’ll feed you dinner.” She blinked up at me. “I know you didn’t eat before a swim like that one.”

  When I went for a run to clear my head that morning, I’d had a little come-to-Jesus talk with myself. I wasn’t going to hold myself back from Taylor. That sultry mix of fire and ice that flowed through her just called to me. Ignoring it was stupid. I wanted to be her friend. I wanted to soothe some of those hurts and show her that a full life had plenty of risks, but those gambles were what made the journey worth taking.

  But I knew if I wanted her in a way that wasn’t just a quick tumble in the sheets that ended with her kicking me to the curb, I would have to move at a snail’s pace. I could go as slow as I needed to.

  Taylor said nothing, just continued to study me. I cleared my throat. “Look, I’d really like it if we could try to be friends.” I felt like a five-year-old asking someone to play with me at recess—a jumble of nerves and anxiety.

  She turned her head to look out at the darkening fields, and I held my breath, hoping she’d stay. Moments passed before Taylor returned her gaze to me. “Okay.”

  “To friendship or food?”

  A small smile tipped her lips. “Both?”

  The tightness between my shoulder blades eased, relief coursing through me. I reached a hand down to help her out of the pool. Water splashed, and then she was standing in front of me. I grabbed her towel from the lounge chair and wrapped it around her shoulders. A shiver coursed through her, and I rubbed her arms. “Let’s get you inside.”

  She nodded, saying nothing as we walked up the stone path to the back door. I cleared my throat as we stood in the kitchen. “I’ll show you to the guest room, and you can shower and change while I fix you something to eat.”

  Taylor’s eyebrow quirked. “You cook?”

  I smirked. “I do. But in this case, I’ll just be heating up leftovers.” My parents had taken my grandma, Jensen, and Noah out to dinner, but I hadn’t been up for a crowded restaurant after my crappy day.

  “You’re full of surprises, Cole.” She was still uncertain around me after last night’s events, but we were slowly finding our way back to normal.

  I led her towards one of the downstairs guest rooms. “Here you go,” I said, opening the door. “There are towels and soap in the bathroom. Do you need anything else?”

  “Nope. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” I shut the door on her towel-clad form, fighting the desire to follow her into the shower. I shook my head and turned towards the kitchen.

  I busied myself heating up last night’s lasagna and reciting baseball stats in my head. Before long, I heard soft footfalls on the hardwood floor. Turning around, I took in Taylor, pink-faced and freshly showered. Her wet hair was piled on top of her head, and she was wearing short-shorts and a t-shirt that clung to her petite yet curvy frame.

  It was apparent that she wasn’t wearing a bra. My gaze zeroed in on a pair of perky little nips, and I ground my teeth together so hard, pain shot through my jaw. “Do you want to borrow a sweatshirt? It’s pretty chilly.”

  She flushed. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

  I jerked my head in a nod and went in search of one of my high school football hoodies in my old room. Finding a worn, gray one, I returned to the kitchen to see Taylor nibbling on her thumbnail. “Here you go.” My voice was rough, even to my own ears.

  “Thanks, not just for this, but for dinner too.” She slipped the sweatshirt over her head. It almost came to her knees, meaning it looked like she could be naked underneath.

  I imagined sliding a hand up one of her tanned legs to find her bare beneath. Fuck. I had to stop. “You’re welcome.” It came out half choked. Grabbing an oven mitt, I pulled the two plates out of the oven. “Hope you like lasagna.”

  “Love it.” Taylor’s eyes sparkled when she said it, in a way that told me she did indeed love food. “Can I get us drinks?”

  “Sure,” I called as I made my way to the dining table. “Help yourself to anything in the fridge and grab me a beer.”

  “Got it.” I placed our plates across from each other just as she returned with a beer and a bottle of water. “Thanks.”

  “This looks amazing,” Taylor said as she sat.

  “Tastes even better.”

  She took her first bite and moaned. Fucking moaned. I choked on my drink. Her eyes looked panicked for a moment. “Are you okay?”

  I coughed, then got out, “Yeah, fine. Just a little beer down the wrong pipe.”

  “This is delicious. Even better than my favorite Italian restaurant in LA.”

  “Gran will be happy to hear that. It’s her recipe.”

  “Impressive.”

  I took a pull on my beer. “I have a favor to ask.”

  Taylor sent a quizzical look my way. “What?”

  “You used to be a teacher, right?”

  She tensed but answered. “Yes.”

  “I was wondering if you could help Noah with his reading. His teacher thinks he’s a little behind. We’ve been trying to read with him more, get him to sound out words and stuff, but he’s still struggling.” Noah did need a little help, but I might have been exaggerating things as an excuse to have Taylor around more.

  Taylor twisted the bottle of water by her plate. “What grade is he in this year?”

  “First.”

  “I don’t know. I taught fifth grade, it’s pretty different.”

  I could see the apprehension in her eyes, the desire to run, to isolate. She didn’t want the Cole family any closer than we already were. I pushed. I had to. “But you learned the basics of how to teach reading, right?”

  “Yes…” She let the word trail off.

  “It would be a huge help. And I know it would mean a lot to Jensen.” I went for the death blow that I knew would mean her agreement. “Being a single mom, she needs all the help we can give her. It’s a lot to have on a single pair of shoulders.”

  Taylor stared me down. “You don’t fight fair.”

  I popped a crispy corner of lasagna into my mouth. “Nope. I fight to win.”

  18

  Taylor

  Balancing a pile of books at least a foot high, I reached out and knocked on the Cole family’s front door. I had spent the past week brushing up on reading techniques and going in search of books that might entice Noah. I had to admit, this project had reminded me why I had decided to go into teaching in the first place. Maybe it was time to think about going back to work.

  The door swung open, and Sarah appeared. “Oh, my goodness. Let me help you with those.” She slid the top half of my book pile into her own grasp. “Well, you’ve certainly come prepared. I’m afraid your student is sulking in the study. He’s not too excited about this.”

  I followed her inside. “Hopefully, these books will help.” Sarah sent me a quizzical look. “Part of getting a child excited about reading is giving them a wide variety of material about subjects they’re interested in. I asked Jensen to fill me in on the things he loves. So, lots of books on airplanes, fighter pilots, animals, and even a children’s biography about Muhammed Ali.”

  Sarah beamed. “This is wonderful. I can’t thank you enough for doing this.”

  I returned her smile. “I�
�m happy to help. We’ll start off with shorter sessions. Maybe thirty minutes, a break, and then another thirty?”

  “That sounds perfect. I’ll be in the kitchen, working on some cookies. They should be just about ready in time for your break.”

  “That’s great. A little reward for hard work is always good. Also, it would help to have everyone in the family read to him as much as possible. Instilling the habit now and seeing his family enjoy the activity will go a long way.”

  Sarah nodded. “We can do that. Jensen always reads to him before bed, but we can start doing some reading during the day, too.”

  “That should help. Reading before bed is wonderful, but it’s also when Noah is most tired. Picking up a book when he has more energy to focus will help him to retain more of what he learns.”

  “That makes a lot of sense. Come on, I’ll show you to the study.”

  Sarah led the way to a pair of glass French doors and swung them open as she revealed not a study but a gorgeous library. The room was large and housed floor-to-ceiling bookshelves on every wall except one—the one dominated by a large bay window. There were worn and cozy-looking chairs and a couch that just begged you to curl up on it with a good book. “This is incredible,” I whispered.

  Sarah patted my shoulder gently. “You’re welcome to come over and read anytime you’d like.”

  I chuckled. “Careful what you offer, with a room like this, you might never get rid of me.”

  She smiled in return and then turned to Noah, who was sitting in one of the chairs facing the window, clearly sulking. “Noah, Taylor is here.” He said nothing. Sarah sat the books she was holding down on a side table. “Noah Nolan Cole, you know that isn’t how we treat guests. You get your cute little butt over here before the count of three, or no TV tonight.”

  Noah slowly rose, dragging his feet as he walked over to us. “Hi, Tay Tay.”

  I had to hold my cheeks taut to fight the grin that wanted to appear. He was so freaking adorable. “Hey there, Noah.” Turning my head to Sarah, I said, “You can go. I’ve got this.”

  Sarah looked skeptical but headed out, and towards the kitchen. I placed my stack of books on the side table and got down to eye level with Noah. “This stinks, huh?”

  Noah’s eyes flared in surprise, then uncertainty filled his gaze. “Yeah…”

  “Here’s the thing, I’m always going to be straight with you, okay?”

  “Okay…” He fidgeted with the toy plane in his hands, unsure of where I was going with the conversation.

  “I love reading.” Noah’s face closed down. “But not everyone does.”

  “I like TV and playing outside.”

  “Those are both super awesome things, and I like them, too.” Noah’s face brightened. “But, sometimes, we have to do things we don’t want to do.” Noah’s lip jutted out in a pout. “I will do everything I can to make reading as fun as possible for you, but at the end of the day, we just gotta get through it, okay?”

  Silence.

  “I’m also a firm believer in rewarding myself after I do something I don’t want to do. So, how about after our first exercise, we get some of the cookies your grandma is making? And after the second one, we play outside?”

  Noah’s eyes traveled from me to the piles of books and back again. “Oh, all right.”

  I patted my knees and rose. “Great. First things first, I want you to pick out a book you think you might like to read.”

  Noah studied the titles without actually touching the books. Then, he hesitantly reached out, slowly flipping through his options. My heart warmed as I saw his interest pique. He stopped on a yellow one. He looked up, his eyes wide. “Is this one about a fighter?”

  A grin pulled at my lips. “It is. Have you ever heard of Muhammad Ali?”

  “No. Who is he?”

  I took a seat on the couch and patted the cushion next to me. Noah joined me. “He is one of the greatest boxers to ever live. Think you might want to know a little more about him?”

  “Yes,” Noah breathed reverently.

  “Awesome. Let’s do this.”

  The next thirty minutes flew by. There were a fair number of bumps in the road, but all in all, things went well. Noah was motivated enough by wanting to learn about the boxer that he pushed through the frustration of not knowing certain words. I taught him how he could use the surrounding words in a sentence that he did know to figure out the ones he didn’t.

  He would be flying through books in no time. “You did great, Noah.”

  He gave me a shy smile. “I guess it wasn’t so bad.”

  “I’m glad. Now, how about some cookies? I think I can smell them from here.”

  “Yes!” Noah cheered, sending one little fist into the air.

  “Let’s go.” I followed behind Noah as he charged from the study towards the kitchen, laughing softly as I went.

  Sarah was standing at the counter, working on her next batch of dough while the first batch of cookies sat on the cooling rack. “How’d it go?” she asked Noah.

  “Great,” he called, skidding to a stop next to her.

  “Hop on up here, and you can lick the beater.” A grin spread over Noah’s face, and Sarah bent to lift him up onto the counter. Handing him a beater from the mixer, she tapped his nose, leaving a dusting of flour there. “There you go.”

  A memory slammed into me so hard it stole all the air from my lungs. My chest burned as I saw my own mother standing in front of me while I sat on the counter, swinging my legs back and forth.

  “One for my girl, and one for me,” my mother said with a smile.

  “And maybe a spoonful of batter for me?” I asked, eyes wide with hope.

  My mom let out a laugh. “At this rate, you’ll never go to sleep.”

  I smiled widely, showing my missing front tooth. “But it’ll be worth it.”

  “It just might,” she said, tapping my nose and leaving a trail of flour in her wake that tickled my sinuses.

  Sarah’s voice dragged me back into the present moment. “Taylor, are you all right?”

  I could feel the lack of blood in my head and knew I needed air. “Yeah,” I croaked. “I just need some fresh air for a minute.” Sarah initially looked like she might go with me, but I held up a hand. “I’ll be right back.”

  She nodded hesitantly, and I rushed out the back door. I made a beeline for the pool, toeing off my sandals and submerging my feet in the cool water as I sat. My heart clenched in a rhythm of quick spasms that wouldn’t let up, and tears leaked from my eyes. I didn’t lift a hand to brush them away.

  The pain was so real, dug in so deeply, I knew I would never be able to get it out. I battled with the thought of whether I ever wanted it to. Because digging out that pain would mean forgetting my mom. I would deal with this soul-crushing, panic-inducing pain every day for the rest of my life if it meant keeping her fresh in my mind.

  I gripped the edge of the pool harder, trying to get my heartbeat under control. Willing it to relax. I jolted as someone sat down next to me. It took me a moment to recognize Walker through my blurry vision.

  I quickly wiped at my face to rid it of tears. It was useless because they just kept coming. It wasn’t the kind of crying where you sobbed and heaved. It was the silent kind. The kind where you just had so many emotions inside of you, they had to leak out somewhere.

  Walker wrapped an arm around me. I tried to escape it, but he only held me more firmly to him. “Don’t. You’re going to let me be here for you right now.”

  The tears and heart pangs kept right on coming. Walker squeezed my arm. “Let it out. You have to stop holding it all in.”

  I let the tears flow heavier then, allowed my heart to beat unchecked. Walker kept his arm around me through it all. Finally, the tears waned, my breaths slowed, and I came back to myself. “I’m so sorry—” I started to say, cheeks flushing.

  “Don’t you dare apologize.” His voice cracked like a whip. I slammed my lips together. “You don�
��t have to apologize for feeling deeply. You lost someone who meant the world to you.”

  I blinked up at him. “You know?”

  “It wouldn’t have taken a genius to figure it out, but Austin told me.”

  I gritted my teeth. “He shouldn’t have. That wasn’t his information to share.”

  “Taylor. I spent all of two hours with your friends, but it only took fifteen minutes for me to see how much they love you.” I let out a slow breath, knowing he was right. “And they’re worried about you.”

  “I know they are.” I stared at the rippling water, watching it shimmer in the sunlight. “Does your family know?”

  Walker gave my arm another squeeze. “Just my grandma. But I can tell the others if you want…so you don’t have to.”

  “Might be a good idea. So your mom doesn’t think I’m a crazy person.”

  Another squeeze. “She doesn’t. She’s worried about you, too.”

  I grimaced. “I’ll have to apologize for freaking out on her.”

  “I told you, you don’t have to apologize. What happened?”

  I let out a shuddered breath. “I–I just–Sarah was baking…and something reminded me of my mom.”

  He pulled me tighter against him, and a rush of warmth filled me. I felt safe. For the first time in a long time, I felt protected from all the overwhelming feelings. And that terrified me. “Do you want to tell me about it?” he asked.

  I stiffened beside him. “I don’t like to talk about her.”

  He tipped my face up so our eyes met. “Remember her. Sharing her with others might help you heal. Tell me a memory you have that makes you ridiculously happy.”

  I put up a mental wall to the onslaught of images that wanted to fill my mind. I shook my head. “Even the happy memories…they break my heart.”

  “Still gotta let yourself experience them. Then, maybe one day, you won’t cry because of what you’ve lost, you’ll smile because of what you had.”

  His words landed with a thud in my gut. “That might be true, but I don’t know if I’m ready to talk about her yet.”

  “Well, whenever you are, I’ll be here to listen.”