“You owe me for that one,” Cole murmurs in my ear. “Betsy has a buyer lined up for The Burial. But I had to let her run her hands all over my chest for that entire conversation. I’m practically your gigolo these days.” “Yeah, you want a commission?” I tease him. “Or you just want to run your hands over someone’s chest …” Cole lets his eyes roam down the front of my jacket, slipping his arm around my waist and pulling me close. “That might suffice …”
