Sophie stared at her, the question written all over her shocked face.

"We had this food incident in Rosita's and-"

"Not that, the other. The barbecue invitation."

"Cole hasn't told his aunt that all this dating is a big pretense, and she's getting the wrong idea about Cole and me. She thinks that there's more between us than there is."

Sophie pinned Christy with her piercing eyes. "Are you sure you have this under control?"

Christy nodded as rea.s.suringly as she could. She had everything under control. Yes, she was annoyed at the groupies, and yes, she might feel a smidgen of jealousy and territoriality where it came to Cole, but she could handle it. It wasn't a big deal...really.

Probably.

Five minutes into the movie, she saw Cole approaching, and as he winked at her, her stomach flipped. They'd been f.u.c.king for a while now, and she'd had his tongue, his fingers, and his d.i.c.k on her, in her many times, in many places actually, but still the mere sight of him made her insides flutter. He just had to smile at her and she felt sixteen again.

"h.e.l.lo, beautiful," he whispered so that Sophie wouldn't hear and, taking the lollipop from her mouth, kissed her. "I told you you don't need these. Every time you feel the need to do something with your mouth, just come get me."

She laughed softly.

"How did it go in the gym?" Christy asked.

"It was fun. I don't get to cover for Mike too often. You should have come to see me."

Oh no, thank you, she'd done that once. The whole thing was too s.e.xy.

"We could have sparred a bit together."

"Me? In a gym? I don't know if you've noticed, but my natural state includes a bed, a TV, and a bucket of ice cream. I've made some improvements with time, but that's basically it. Me working in a gym is a far cry from reality, buddy."

He rolled his eyes. "What did I miss?"

"Nothing much."

Just his aunt inviting her to a family event and his groupies publicly unsheathing their claws on her. Not that they'd been saving their punches up until now, but they'd been more discreet, if not less insulting.

This last week she'd discovered that fending off barbs was d.a.m.n hard work. The snooty b.i.t.c.hes were mean. Never in front of Cole, though. He wouldn't have stood for it and they knew it, but when he wasn't around, they were plain nasty.

"Where's Annie and Holly?" Cole asked her.

"Holly doesn't do outdoor movies, and Annie is enjoying my birthday present. She's probably now meeting the stud of all studs while I'm here being secretly hated by almost all the females around."

A smirk spread across his face. "That's only one part of the deal. After the movie, we could go to my place and I'll pay you back with o.r.g.a.s.ms for these nice, uncomplicated dates you're offering me."

As they watched the movie, her phone vibrated several times, but she didn't answer. It was her mother.

"Are you up for taking a swim in my tub?" he said at the end of the movie after Sophie had said her good-byes.

"Sure."

On their way back home, she took off the silent mode on her cell and right away came the surfer ringtone.

"I have to answer this," she said, looking at the ID. "It's my mother's husband." He never called her if it wasn't an emergency. "What's wrong, Fred?"

She heard a relieved sigh from the other end of the line. "Oh thank G.o.d and all the angels you answered. Christy darling, your mom is driving me crazy. Please, please talk to her."

Poor Fred. She so understood him. "Put her on. h.e.l.lo, Martha, what do you want?"

"What do I want? What do I want?" she shrieked. "Isn't talking to my own flesh and blood too much to ask?"

Oh boy, she was in drama-queen mode. Christy drew in a calming breath. "I was at the movies."

"The whole day?"

She had a point there. "No, I was working the whole day." And avoiding her calls.

"It's not work if you don't even get minimum wage."

"What do you want?"

"I spoke with Todd today. He said you're blocking his calls."

"You speak to him all the time. Maybe he should marry you."

Cole looked at her, amused, and she signaled for him to come close, after which she turned the cell so both could hear.

"Don't speak nonsense. I'm just trying to prevent you from making a huge mistake. Leaving just like that. It's a miracle he still wants you back."

"Well, maybe he should have kept his c.o.c.k inside his pants. Besides, I don't want him back."

"You're just being unreasonable, Christy. I know he disappointed you, but it is your fault. What did you expect? Men are like that, sometimes they go a bit...wild. They need s.p.a.ce to do their things."

Do their things? Please! "You make it sound as if I caught him playing computer games. His d.i.c.k was in her mouth, Martha."

"Don't be crude, Christy. Besides, where did you expect it to end up? He told me about you not making yourself available to him. That was...ill-advised, Christy. If you don't give a man what he needs, he'll go find it somewhere else."

"I made myself availab-You know what? Just forget it. Sure, it's all my fault. Are we done now? Can I continue with my evening?"

Her mother didn't seem to catch the irony in her tone. "At your age you should not walk out on a man who has proposed. You don't want to end up alone, darling. You need a man. Work with me here, so that we can get past this silly misunderstanding and get back on track with the wedding."

Christy rolled her eyes and covered the speaker. "Can you believe this?"

Cole smirked. "Come on, sweetheart, I'm waiting for you," he said the second she freed the speaker, loud enough for her mom to hear him. At Christy's questioning glance, he mouthed to her, Use me.

At first she didn't understand, but then it dawned on her.

Oh...he might have a point there.

"Who's that?" her mother asked.

"I hooked up with someone, Martha. I'm not without a man anymore. You can relax."

Martha was silent. "Has he proposed?"

"Actually he has. In a restaurant. I turned him down."

"What?" her mother shrieked while Cole arched his brow at her, a c.o.c.ky smile spreading on his face.

"Kidding, Martha. I don't want him to propose. Women also need s.p.a.ce to do their things."

"Is he a good man at least? You should introduce him to me."

Christy broke into laughter. "Sure, because you're such a great judge of character." The only good man her mother had met in her life was Fred. Christy still wondered how she'd managed that feat.

By the time her mother had finished lecturing her, they'd arrived at Cole's place.

"Do you want to grab a quick bite before the tub?"

"Hmm...okay," she answered, following him into the kitchen.

He opened the fridge. "I got a salad and a platter of sushi from the deli."

So much for food. Good thing she wasn't really that hungry.

He frowned, picking up on her uneasiness. "Something wrong? Sushi is healthy. And I asked about the salad-no croutons."

This was so embarra.s.sing. "Yes, sushi is healthy, but I don't like raw fish. And deli salads come with dressing, which is basically seasoned liquid sugar. And this one has nuts. I don't..."

He was quiet for a second, and Christy braced herself. This was the moment when Cole would realize this food thing was too much of a bother and would get p.i.s.sed at her. Or he'd try to talk her into being more "agreeable." But he just shook his head and chuckled. "We're going to have to go to buy food, you and I. That or I'll kill you from starvation."

"I'm not hungry. Really. Don't worry about me. I'll just wait for you to finish."

"f.u.c.k the food," he said, closing the fridge and taking her by the hand.

In no time he was undressing her on his deck. It was quite secluded, and he'd left the outdoors lights off, so she didn't put up any resistance, although she truly wondered how much resistance she would put up if the lights were on. For the past week Cole had been systematically working on smashing all her hang-ups.

"Do you really prefer it without lights?" he'd asked her a couple of days ago, tired of her hinting about it. When she'd nodded, he'd stared pensively at her for a couple of seconds. "Okay. Whatever you say."

Then he'd reached for that d.a.m.n drawer where the cuffs and the bindings always came from, and in no time he'd had her blindfolded.

"There, problem solved," he'd whispered in her ear, a hint of amus.e.m.e.nt in his tone. "No more lights."

She hadn't complained about it ever since. Being deprived of sight had heightened her other senses-and her sense of vulnerability-to such an extent she'd almost come on the spot. Although what was new there? She always came on the spot with Cole. It was something about his commanding ways, about how he took charge and always seemed to know what she needed to drive her out of her mind. She'd always been too self-conscious and anxious to really enjoy s.e.x. Too frigging aware of her body's inadequacies to ever let go. Not with Cole. He took her to her limits, but surprisingly enough she could manage that.

After getting her naked, he shucked off his clothes and came to join her in the tub.

"You call your mother by her name?"

"She insisted. Calling her 'Mom' would have cramped her style. She was always searching for the right man...the one. Having a brat on her heels was already enough of a handicap. She liked to believe she could pa.s.s for my sister."

"What about your dad?"

"Never knew him. He didn't stick around long enough for me to be born." It felt so nice to sit there, in the quiet of the night, talking to Cole, that she let the words flow. "In spite of how crazy Martha must have sounded to you on the phone, my mother is not a bad person per se. She just doesn't know how to be without a man. She spent all her life compromising her already shaky values in order to keep whatever guy she was dating from leaving her. You wouldn't believe the things she did to that end: she moved us across the country, several times actually, left jobs she liked, took jobs she didn't, financially supported him. Put up with his friends, his habits, his demeaning att.i.tude. But she wasn't a shrinking violet herself and didn't hesitate to use emotional blackmail and manipulation to get her way. When the guy invariably walked away, she went ballistic and blamed it on me.

"My mom had two settings: either she was desperately on the make, or trying desperately to keep the guy. Either way I was scared s.h.i.tless every time I went home. You never knew what you'd find there, a war zone or a tomb. It was not very soothing, let me tell you."

"s.h.i.t, sweetheart. That must have been hard."

She shrugged. "You get used to it. I was born in a circus. I spent all my childhood riding a h.e.l.l of a roller coaster, walking the tightrope. Trying not to be squashed by the stampeding horses."

"Come here, baby," he said, dragging her onto his lap. "No wonder you comforted yourself with food. It's actually a miracle you didn't take up drugs or alcohol."

She snorted. "I started young. At age four the only mood-altering substances available to me were doughnuts and peanut b.u.t.ter sandwiches."

Food was around, and given the right amount, it worked. It took the edge off. And thank G.o.d for that; if she hadn't had food, she didn't know how she would have survived. She probably wouldn't have.

"Although you don't know how much s.h.i.t I took at the AA meetings Lora made me drive her and the other old-timers to. As addictions go, being hooked on food is not that...glamorous. Or recognized. When you talk about other addictions, the image you have of addicts is of rough guys in bars getting drunk, getting into fights, driving away from the cops, getting into trouble... What did I do? Sit on the coach and stuff my face until I pa.s.sed out. So not cool."

Cole laughed. "I wouldn't say getting into fights and driving away from cops is cool."

She waved dismissively. "You know what I mean." Others battled big bad evils. She battled candy bars!

It figured she'd end up with the dorky disease.

"Nevertheless it was my way to cope with life. Sugar just did it for me. My mom, for example, is wired differently; she needs men for coping. Every time my mother was dumped, she went totally off the deep end. If living with her and her losers was hard, living alone with her was even harder, even more scary. It was like going through a train wreck in slow motion. She was hysterical. Out of control. If she didn't have a man with her, nothing was good enough in her life. Not her, and certainly not me. Every time a relationship went to h.e.l.l, she would be out there, in full-blown psycho-queen act, screaming and buying compulsively, adding financial angst into the mix. She did her thing, and I did mine-eating. I could do anything on food. Roll over me with an 18-wheeler and I'd swing it. As long as I had some pizza and some chocolate set aside, I was okay, I could handle it."

And as her weight piled on, her mother had been horrified by it, lecturing her about how men didn't like fat women. She scolded her and embarra.s.sed her, as if that would have done anything to solve Christy's problem. Then she'd get a man and her focus would shift. When it came to concern for her own daughter, Martha had a short memory.

"You're tense, baby," Cole said, ma.s.saging her neck.

"Of course I'm tense. We're talking about my mother." Lora used to say that family knew how to push your b.u.t.tons because they had installed them all, and boy was she right. "Nothing in the world can make me tenser than that. Except for having her near me or getting a phone call from her."

"That's easy to solve, sweetheart. Block her calls."

Christy laughed. "Oh, you don't know her. That would definitely make things worse."

"What about disconnecting your cell for a few hours a day?"

"No, I can't do that. I take a lot of calls from friends in the program. I need to be reachable. For better or for worse, I can't get rid of my mother, so I'm learning to live with her. Besides, things are much better now with Fred around." In fact, the only thing that was keeping her mother from coming to Alden to make Christy "see reason" was probably him.

"Tell me about him."

"Fred is great. She really lucked out with him. Don't get me wrong; the men that my mom used to hook up with weren't always losers. Some of them were quite nice, but she always ended up freaking those out and sending them packing by being her old self, making scenes and being too needy. Normal men have a sixth sense for crazy women, and she always managed to get all the alarms ringing in their heads. Desperation has its own smell. Fred seems to be immune to all her craziness. The man is a total saint. They've been married for three years-a miracle, I a.s.sure you. I really thought that would never ever happen." Martha had been married three times before, but she never lasted more than a handful of months. Once she made it to a record of only three weeks. They hadn't yet taken Martha's maiden name off the mailbox and changed it for her married name when the guy was gone and she was divorced again.

"Fred is the manager of a small bank, a widower with no kids, which is perfect for her, because she needs to be number-one priority. She'd go into hysterics if she had to share him with kids or ex-wives. She has to be the prima donna of her own opera, and n.o.body should overshadow her."

"Quite a character, your mother."

"You could say that. It's a miracle that with such a role model I've managed to survive only slightly damaged."