Coldhearted King: Chapter 45

I park Mom’s battered old car in the driveway and collect the groceries from the back seat before carrying them up the path to the house. Before I can put the key in the lock, the door opens, and I smile at Mom. “I got all the ingredients you wanted, and I picked up some ice cream for dessert. Do you—” I stop when I notice the serious expression on her face. “Is everything okay?”

She reaches to take the bags from my hands. “Cole’s here.”

My heart almost stops. “What?”

“He’s here. But it’s up to you if he stays.”

I throttle the feeling of betrayal that swells in my chest—Mom wouldn’t have let him in if he hadn’t given her a good enough reason. I just don’t have a clue what that could be.

I draw in a long breath, then another one, my heart beating a rapid tattoo in my chest. Mom gives me a reassuring smile, nods toward the small living room, then heads for the kitchen with the groceries.

He’s standing, watching me as I approach, and my breath catches in my throat at the sight of him. I don’t know why he’s here. I don’t know why he isn’t back in New York with Jessica. I’m torn between drinking him in and wanting to walk straight past him into my bedroom.

But my mom didn’t raise a coward, so I stop in front of him and look up. He’s just as gorgeous as I remember. What I don’t remember is the drawn look to his face, and the glimmer of desperation in his gaze.

“Delilah,” he says, and just my name spoken in that deep, velvety voice makes me tremble.

I don’t beat around the bush. “Does Jessica know you’re here?”

If I expect him to flinch or act evasive, I’m disappointed. He holds my gaze steadily. “I don’t care if she does or not. I ended it with her.”

My traitorous heart leaps at that news before I remember that he still traded me in for a woman who’s part of his world. That he stood in front of me and told me he planned to marry someone else, meaning he never felt for me what I felt for him. I stand firm. “Why are you here, Cole? I’m pretty sure I said everything I had to say to you at the awards night.”

His eyes bore into me. “You did. And you had every right to say all of it. I . . .” For the first time, he looks uncertain, his eyes flicking away as he rubs his hand over his chin. “I fucked up more than I thought it was possible to fuck up. I put my company first. I put myself first. I hurt you in a way I never imagined I could hurt someone because I never believed someone could feel about me the way you did.”

My resolve wavers, but I can’t let down my guard. He’s hurt me once, and there’s nothing to stop him from doing it again when his position, his status, and his need to hold on to his wealth and power require it of him. “Is that an apology?” I ask.

His brow creases a little, his hands coming up as if he wants to grip my arms and pull me toward him. Thankfully, he doesn’t make contact, letting them fall back to his side. “Not enough of one. I’m sorry, Delilah. I’m sorry for all of it—every bit of pain I caused you. But I’m here to make it right. I’m here to win you back.”

“Win me back?” I shake my head. “Cole, there is no winning me back. I may not have said the words, but I was offering you my heart. I stood there in front of you, begging you not to leave me, and you walked away and put a ring on Jessica’s finger. I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you two, but that doesn’t mean you get to come running back to me to pass the time until the next society princess comes along to share your crown.”

Icy fire flashes in his eyes. “That isn’t what this is.”

“Then what is it?”

He takes a step forward, his voice lowering. “The only reason I got engaged to Jessica was for the King Group. The minute I realized what a mistake I was making, I ended it.” He reaches for me again, and for a moment I weaken, letting him cup my jaw. His gaze sears into me. “I never fucking touched her, kitten. You need to know that. I couldn’t bear the thought.”

I hate the surge of relief that hits me at his words. It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter. I step back and his hand drops.

He doesn’t let that deter him, though. “I want another chance to be the man you need, Delilah.”

“No.” Tears fill my eyes and I shake my head. “I already gave you a second chance. I’m sick of having to give everyone a second chance. My father was given all the chances in the world to be in my life. I gave Paul a second chance and look where that got me. I shouldn’t have to give everyone more than one chance to love me.”

“Delilah—”

“I want you to leave.” I ignore the way my voice trembles.

“No, Delilah. Just let me—”

I turn my back on him and walk to the front door, opening it and standing there, waiting for him to leave. For a moment, I think he won’t. That he’ll force me to face him again. To listen to the words that my heart will try too desperately to cling to. Because I want to believe him. I want it so much that the longing threatens to choke me. But I can’t. I can’t believe him.

Then his presence looms behind me. “You’re right. You shouldn’t need to give me another chance, because I should have realized what I had before I lost you. But I’m going to fix this. I’m going to fix us.”

“There is no us, Cole.” Exhaustion leaches through my veins, and I need him to go.

He ducks his head so he can meet my gaze with unwavering eyes. “There’ll be an us in my heart forever, Delilah. Even if there isn’t in yours anymore. I’m not leaving until I’ve done everything in my power to convince you that you’ll never have to give anyone else a second chance again. I’ll be the last chance you’ll ever need to take.”

He turns and strides down the path without looking back, although he glances at Mom’s rusty car as he passes. It’s lucky he doesn’t turn, because if he had, he might have seen the way my legs went weak at his words. He might have seen the tears that sprang to my eyes with the almost overwhelming urge to reach for him. To bury my face in his chest and believe him.

But I’m too hurt, and my heart is too scarred to open for him again so easily.

He says he’ll stay until he convinces me there’s still an us, but I bet he’ll be gone as soon as he’s needed in New York.

And then I’ll know.

I’ll know exactly what I’m worth to Cole King.

THE NEXT EVENING, I return home after my jog, my feet stuttering to a halt as I pull out my earphones.

What the hell?

My first thought is that Cole’s back, having driven himself this time, but I know that’s not it. The shiny red car in the driveway is brand new. It doesn’t even look like it was driven here. It looks like someone picked it up from the car lot and dropped it in front of Mom’s garage where her car normally sits.

I walk up the path and let myself into the house, spotting his dark head straight away. He’s sitting on the couch, the same place as yesterday, and Mom’s sitting opposite him, serenely sipping a cup of tea.

I take a deep breath, then drop my keys on the sideboard. “Please tell me that’s your car outside.” I direct the comment to Cole.

He stands immediately, his deep blue eyes raking over me in a way that still has the power to make my heart flutter. He looks from me to my mom, who’s sitting back in her chair, watching me with a tiny smile that I don’t understand. She should be the last person encouraging Cole. She knows exactly how reckless men like him are with the hearts that are given to them.

“It’s your mother’s,” Cole says.

“You bought it for her.” It’s a statement, not a question, because of course he did.

“The other one seemed like it was on its last legs.”

My gaze goes to Mom. “I’m assuming you didn’t accept it.”

She laughs. “Of course not. I thanked Cole but told him I don’t accept cars from strangers, no matter how rich they might be. We’re just waiting for the dealership to pick it up again.”

I return my glare to Cole. “I can’t believe you bought a car.”

“He also bought a plot of land,” Mom says calmly.

My gaze ping-pongs between her and Cole. “What?”

“For my dream house that you’re apparently designing for me.” Her smile is soft. “I’d like to see the plan sometime.”

“I—Of course. I just wanted to be closer to affording it before I told you. I’m not quite there yet, and we definitely don’t need the land yet.” I pin Cole with my stare, not sure if I’m more annoyed at him for buying land or spilling my secret.

“It’s a good plot,” he says. “It’s on the river. I thought you could put in a boat dock—”

I let out a slightly hysterical laugh. “A boat dock? Cole, Mom’s not rich. I’m not rich. We’re not going to spend our weekends on a boat, sipping champagne. That’s your life, not ours. And if Mom doesn’t want a car from you, I can guarantee she doesn’t want an expensive plot of land.”

Mom stands and brushes down her skirt. “I might give you two a moment alone.”

“Don’t worry, Mom,” I say. “Cole’s just leaving.”

I stare at him until he clenches his jaw, nods, and turns to Mom. “Thank you for the tea, Beth.” For the first time I notice the empty teacup on the coffee table in front of him, and something warm flutters to life in my belly at the thought of Cole and my mom drinking tea and talking. That feeling doesn’t bear looking at too closely right now.

“It was my pleasure, Cole. And thank you for your thoughtful gifts. I hope you understand why I can’t accept them.”

A smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “I do now.” He inclines his head to her. “I’ll see you next time.”

“Next time?” I question, but Mom merely smiles benignly as Cole moves toward me.

“We need to talk outside,” I say.

He follows me onto the porch, and I close the front door behind us before whirling on him. “I can’t believe you thought you could buy your way back into my life. And using my mother to do it. You should know I don’t want your money, Cole. Stop throwing it around and thinking it’s going to fix things.”

“I’m not throwing it around,” he says, his voice pitched low. “I’m not trying to buy your heart back. It’s worth far more than I have.”

A lick of warmth spreads through me. Why does he keep saying such sweet things? “Then why did you think turning up here with a new car and a plot of land would win you any favors?”

His eyes darken. “Because it’s the only thing I can offer you—the only thing I can give you that you need.”

I stare at him, then shake my head, sadness welling up in my chest. “No. It’s not, Cole. I don’t need your money or what it can buy me. A relationship isn’t supposed to be transactional that way. It’s about being with someone because you can’t imagine not being with them. It’s about sharing your heart and soul with someone, knowing they see you for who you really are—that they understand you in a way no one else can.”

His jaw is tight as he watches me. “Okay,” he says.

That wasn’t what I was expecting. “Okay?”

He nods, steps closer, and reaches up to brush a strand of hair off my face. “I’ll do better next time.”

“Next time?” I say weakly. “I thought you’d have to go back to New York soon.”

“I don’t need New York. I need you.”

He says it so simply that my heart almost bursts free from the prison I’ve put it in, but I manage to hold firm. I want to believe. I want it so much I’m practically vibrating with the need to throw myself into his arms. But words are meaningless, and I don’t know if I can trust his.

He reads my indecision and takes a step back. “The truck will be here to pick up the car soon.”

“Okay,” I whisper.

His lips tip up at the corners a little. “I’m not giving up, Delilah.” It’s all he says before he turns and walks down the path toward the driver and car waiting for him. I don’t stay to watch him get in and drive away, too scared I’ll suddenly cave and run after him.

I go back into the house and find Mom in the kitchen, washing up the teacups. I slump against the counter and bury my face in my hands, tears threatening to spill. “What am I going to do, Mom? He thinks using his money is the way to prove he cares, but that just shows he doesn’t know me at all.” I pause, my voice trembling. “If he doesn’t understand something so fundamental about me, how can he possibly feel the way he says he does?”

Mom dries her hands on a dishcloth, then rubs her hand up and down my back. “I think you might need to look at it differently.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was using his money, that’s true, and it’s not how he should try to win you back. But you have to remember, that’s all he knows. It’s how he’s lived his life, and it’s not always easy to change that way of thinking. And . . .” Mom pauses for a moment, her expression turning soft. “He knows you, Delilah. It might not look that way on the face of it, but he knows you.”

I should be surprised that Mom’s defending Cole, but somehow, I’m not. “What do you mean?”

She strokes my hand. “What do you care about?”

I shake my head, bewildered.

“For better or worse, you’ve driven yourself so hard all your life. Why is that?”

I swallow past the lump in my throat. “Because I want to give you a better life.” I admit it, saying the words to her for the first time. “The life stolen from you when you got pregnant with me. I want you to be happy and have nice things—” I suck in a sharp breath.

Mom nods, her love for me shining in her eyes as she smooths a strand of hair away from my wet cheek. “If he was just throwing his money around, he would have used it to buy you jewelry or fancy clothes you don’t want. He would have bought you a car. He wasn’t using his money to impress you. He was using it to give you something you care deeply about.”

Tears blur my vision at the truth of what she’s saying.

“I think you should give him a chance, Delilah. If I didn’t believe he was truly sorry and that he cares about you, I’d never say it. But he does care. A lot. He just hasn’t quite figured out the best way to show you yet.”

“Mom,” I whisper, hope warring with pain in my chest. “He hurt me so badly.”

She wraps her arms around me. “I know, sweetheart. I know he did. And I know I’ve spent your life telling you to be cautious with men—with giving them your body and your heart—because I didn’t want you to go through the same pain I did with your dad. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you to experience great love, and you’ll never know if Cole could be that for you if you don’t take a chance. From what you’ve told me, he didn’t have much love growing up, so maybe he doesn’t know how to express that part of himself. But he’s trying, Delilah. It might take him some practice, and it might take you to show him the way, but I can’t think of anyone better to show him how to love with his whole heart than you.”

I lay my head on her shoulder and let myself cry silently for a few minutes, and then I pull myself together and wipe my eyes. “I don’t even know where he’s staying. I didn’t ask. What if he doesn’t come back?”

She brushes away a tear I missed. “If he doesn’t, then it will just prove you were right and his heart wasn’t in it. But I don’t think you have to worry about that. I think you’ll see him sooner rather than later.” She squeezes my hand. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

And it’s that hope that I hold on to as I lie in bed, trying to fall asleep that night. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance for Cole and me after all.