“Hi, Cole. What’s wrong?”

He straightened and didn’t bother trying to smile, but he did meet her gaze, and she felt herself melting a little into his troubled brown eyes in spite of herself.

“Okay if I come in?” he asked quietly.

“Of course.” She stood back to let him pass, closed and locked the door after him. “What’s going on?” she tried again.

He glanced around her apartment, which had become cluttered over the weekend. She’d planned on tidying up before bed tonight. “I just…wanted to see you.”

Those words sent a thrill through her, and she tried to rein it in. Tried, but damn, just looking at him, dressed in dark blue jeans that were nicer than the old, worn ones he usually wore to work and a faded red thermal shirt that stretched just right over his muscular chest, and standing so close she caught his masculine scent… Losing battle.

“Here’s me,” she said, throwing her arms out and trying to coax a smile from him, hoping she wasn’t what had him upset.

He seemed to try, judging by an upward flutter of one side of his lips, but she wouldn’t call it a success. “Pajamas,” he said. “I guess it’s late.”

“I was working out on the balcony. Just sent in the Eldridge app.”

“Outside?”

“It’s a beautiful evening. Up for it? We could talk—” At his instant frown, she changed direction. “Or not talk. Just sit.”

She gestured toward the still-open door to the balcony. She was curious what was up with him and hoped if she got him to relax, he might tell her. When he hesitated, she said, “I have a blanket.”

“’Course you have a blanket.” He came closer to a smile this time.

“If it’s too cold for you though…” she challenged.

“Lead the way.”

Sierra stepped out onto the small wrought-iron balcony that held the wicker love seat, a square ottoman, and a dainty side table, as well as a tall potted plant in the corner that she’d need to bring in for the winter soon. She picked up the corners of the blanket from the cushions and motioned for Cole to sit.

Glancing warily around at the surrounding balconies, all deserted and some of them even packed up for the coming winter, he went to the side farther from the door and sat. His tall frame made the furniture seem delicate and less than sturdy. He extended his arm, indicating the spot next to him, and she sat, enveloping them both under the fuzzy throw. He kept his arm around her shoulder, pulling her in closer, and she felt a little more optimistic that he wasn’t here to tell her they couldn’t be together.

“Ankle’s better?” he asked.

“Much. The swelling’s mostly gone. I’ve sat around all weekend, trying to stay off it. I can’t afford to miss work this week.”