Free Jackson Hole Valentine by Cindy Kirk Page A

stepped onto the pavement. She put on her physical therapist’s hat and her experienced gaze turned sharp and assessing.
    The slippery path to the brightly lit store entrance was an accident waiting to happen. One fall would undo all the work the surgeon had done to reconstruct Cole’s ACL.
    Meg hurried around the front of the truck and took his arm just as he shut his door.
    He glanced down at the arm which now held him tight then lifted his gaze back to her face, a smirk on his lips. “Why, Meg, darlin’, I didn’t know you cared.”
    “I don’t, Cole, sweetheart,” she said in the same phony Southern drawl. “But if you fall on your as—ah, backside, it will impact not only Charlie’s quality of life, but mine, as well. I’m simply making sure that doesn’t happen.”
    She swore he chuckled. All she cared was that he didn’t protest as they made their way across the lot. Strangely, while holding on to the arm of a man she didn’t care about—at all—she felt like part of a couple. Which was crazy for so many reasons, but most of all she couldn’t recall ever feeling this close to him, not even when they’d been seeing each other.
    “Do you realize,” she said when the treacherous trek ended and the automatic doors slid open in welcome, “that even when we were dating, I never held your hand or took your arm?”
    “That’s because,” he said, “you wouldn’t allow it. You didn’t want anyone to know you were dating me. Especially not any of your Honor Society pals.”
    For a second Meg was struck dumb by the hint of bitterness underscoring his words. “That’s not how it was at all,” she protested when she finally found her voice. “You—”
    “Meg. Cole. What a nice surprise.”
    Meg whirled.
    Lexi Delacourt, social worker extraordinaire, looking absolutely lovely in navy leggings and a bulky navy-and-white cable-knit sweater, stood next to a cart filled with sacks of groceries, her husband, Nick, at her side. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”
    The curious look in both their eyes told Meg it wasn’t seeing her that was such a surprise, but seeing her holding on to Cole.
    “There was no food in the house.” Meg released her grip on his arm as if it were a hot potato.
    “It was either brave the grocery store aisles or starve.” Cole’s curious gaze settled on Nick.
    “Where are my manners?” Lexi said with a little laugh. “Meg has met my husband, but you haven’t.”
    The pretty social worker made quick work of the introductions.
    “A family-law attorney,” Cole said after he and Nick had shaken hands. He cast a quick glance at Meg before returning his attention to Nick. “I bet you found the provisions of Joy and Ty’s will very interesting.”
    Meg’s heart sank to the tips of her boots. He knew. Somehow without her saying a word, Cole knew Nick was the attorney she’d consulted about the will.
    “My wife doesn’t discuss her cases with me,” Nick said, an easy smile on his lips.
    “Lexi may not, but I did.” Meg lifted her chin. She had nothing to hide. “Nick verified the provisions were completely enforceable.”
    Instead of offering up his normal remark to the tune of “we’ll see about that,” Cole simply smiled.
    “Mary Karen tells me the two of you are living together.” Lexi’s eyes were bright with interest.
    “Living in the same house,” Cole clarified.
    “Not together, together.” Meg’s cheeks burned as Cole’s lips twitched.
    “What Meg is trying to say is—” he paused to place a hand on her shoulder “—we’re not sleeping together.”
    “Not yet anyway,” Lexi said with a devilish gleam in her eyes.
    Nick chuckled. “You’ll have to excuse my wife. She has the soul of a matchmaker.”
    For a second Meg was tempted to make it clear that Cole Lassiter would be the last man on earth she’d ever sleep with, or—she shuddered—to marry, but she stopped the words before they made it past her lips.
    How many times had she told