He had gotten George home safely, but now that he saw Carrie, he quickly shut down the engine and threw open his door. Her head swung around at the sound, and her eyes narrowed as though she was trying to see in the dark.
“Sheriff Hudson!” Jack called out, darting off the porch.
Colt grinned down as Jack came skidding to a halt right in front of him, his face turned up.
“What are you doing here at our house?”
Placing his hand on Jack's shoulder, he turned him slightly, and they walked toward the porch. He caught Carrie’s wide-eyed face, her lips slightly parted as though she was going to speak, then her attention was recaptured by George.
“I told you. Stanley left me in town after the meeting, and Sheriff Hudson was good enough to give me a ride home.”
Jack’s smile had not faded as he stared up at Colt. Poking his chest with his thumb, he pronounced, “Today was the last day of elementary school for me, so I’m now officially in middle school. And, since summer vacation has officially started, Mom was letting me sit up late, and we were having a popcorn party.”
Colt glanced at Carrie, seeing her open her mouth to speak, but Jack was not finished.
“Hey! I’ve got an idea! You and George need to come in and join our popcorn party. There’s tons for us to share!”
“Jack! I’m sure that Sheriff Hudson has other things to—”
“I’d love to.” Colt smiled at Carrie, watching her blink in surprise. “George, what do you say?”
George swung his gaze from Colt to Carrie and then back to Colt again, his lips curving slightly and the crinkles at his eyes deepening. “I think I’ll pass and let you young people enjoy the popcorn. The dang hulls get stuck in my false teeth.” George patted Carrie on the shoulder, and she walked with him to his front door, making sure that he got in and his door was locked.
While she saw to George, Colt allowed Jack to lead him inside their home. He was immediately struck with two thoughts: one, their house was tiny, and two, their house was a home. The front door opened to the living room, which took up the entire front of their duplex. The back wall held a small cabinet with a television, and facing that, along the front wall, was a dark green sofa. It was worn but clean and brightened with pillows in a blue, green, and yellow pattern. The outside wall had a dark blue comfy chair next to a small bookcase that appeared to be filled with a mixture of paperbacks and children’s books. A coffee table sat in front of the sofa, a variety of popcorn-filled bowls covering it.
The inside wall that was next to George’s duplex was covered in framed pictures, and at a quick glance, Colt could see that they were family pictures depicting the years of Jack’s life. Directly in front of him were the stairs leading to the second floor. A large blue and green rug covered the wooden floor, also worn but clean.
Hearing the door shut behind him, he turned, seeing Carrie step into her house. Her hair, normally pulled up for work at the diner, was loose and much longer than he imagined. She always caught his attention when she was dressed in jeans and work polo, but seeing her in black yoga pants that clung to her generous ass and a pale green T-shirt worn thin with many washings hanging off her lush breasts, and he knew he would always remember her the way she looked right now.
7
Colt and Carrie stood staring at each other for a moment, neither saying anything. Finally, he tilted his head down toward the coffee table and asked, “Popcorn party?”
Not giving her a chance to speak, Jack answered, “Yeah! It’s the best! Mom fixes a bunch of popcorn, and we mix a whole lotta different stuff with it and put it in different bowls. That one over there has peanuts and M&Ms mixed with popcorn. That one over there has Chex mix in it as well. That one over there has raisins and dried cranberries. And that one over there is cheesy—”
“Jack!” Carrie admonished, “I think Sheriff Hudson gets it.” She looked up at Colt and asked, “Would you like something to drink? Soda? Beer?”
“I’ll take a soda, thanks.”
She sucked in her lips, almost as though she wanted to say something but was holding it in. She gave a quick nod before walking down the short hall into the kitchen. In a moment she walked back with a soda in one hand and what looked like lemonade in the other. Handing the soda to him, she said, “Jack, this is your last drink for the night, or you’ll be jumping up all night long.”
He watched Jack roll his eyes before plopping back on the chair. Looking up, Jack encouraged, “Have a seat and dig in!”
Carrie laughed and rolled her eyes, and it hit him how much mother and son were alike. “Please, make yourself at home.” She handed him an empty bowl and indicated for him to grab whatever popcorn flavors he wanted.
He sat on the sofa, choosing a position that left plenty of room for Carrie while making sure they would be close together. She hesitated, then sat next to him, leaning forward to refill her bowl. The TV was showing a west coast college baseball game, and in between shoving popcorn into his mouth, Jack began chattering about the game. Carrie would smile indulgently at her son, occasionally offering gentle reminders about his manners.
After a few minutes, Colt settled back into the comfortable cushions of the sofa. The game was interesting, but his attention was focused on the warm room, the laughter between mother and son, the tasty popcorn treats—a snack he had not had in years—and the realization that Carrie had not only created a home for her son but was giving Jack great memories as well. Neither of which Colt had had, and both of which he had craved.
“So which is your favorite?” Jack asked, shoving a handful of popcorn and M&Ms into his mouth.
“I gotta tell you, boy, it’s been a long time since I’ve had plain, boring popcorn. Right now, I love all of this.” He glanced to the side, seeing Carrie staring at him, and he hoped she understood his double meaning. She looked away quickly, her gaze going back to the television, but he noted two spots of red high on her cheeks.
Thirty minutes later, the ball game was over, the popcorn bowls were empty, the drinks were sipped dry, and Jack was still bouncing, although whispering instead of his usual exuberant shout.
“She gets like this late at night. Of course, I’m usually in bed by now, but if we have a late night, then Mom crashes.”
Carrie had slowly been slipping further down against the cushions until her head rested on a pillow and her feet were tucked tightly against Colt’s thighs. Colt had never had a chance to see Carrie when she was not bustling around the diner or rushing to and from the AL baseball games. She always seemed to be in motion, but now, sleeping on the sofa next to him, he had the opportunity to stare at her features, soft in slumber.
Her hair was thick and glossy, and his fingers itched to slide through the tresses to see if they were as soft as he imagined. Her eyelashes lay in dark crescents on top of her cheeks, and as pretty as she was with a little bit of makeup on, he could now see a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.
Not wanting to disturb her, he looked toward Jack and said, “How about we clean up this mess for your mom?”
Jack readily agreed, and Colt could easily tell that Jack was not only a good kid who would do that for his mom, but he seemed to suck up male attention, and Colt was more than glad to give it to him.
Standing, he and Jack stacked the empty popcorn bowls on top of each other and carried them into the kitchen. He could easily see that the downstairs was essentially two large rooms, the living room in the front and eat-in kitchen in the back. A staircase with a tiny half bathroom was in the middle. Squirting some detergent in the sink, it did not take long to get the bowls washed and rinsed and placed in the drying rack.
“Are you going to be at practice tomorrow, Sheriff Hudson?”
Nodding, he said, “Yep. I try never to miss unless there’s something I’m doing that can’t wait.”
“Like catching bad guys?”
He could see Jack’s eager excitement over the idea of Colt catching bad guys. He remembered what it was li
ke being a young boy and thinking that wearing a badge and a gun would be the greatest job ever. He also remembered that his own father put down that idea every chance he got. “I’ll admit that sometimes my job is doing a lot of paperwork, and some of the investigations aren’t very exciting. But, yeah, when we get to catch a bad guy, it’s a great feeling.”
Jack nodded his agreement with all the wisdom that an almost-eleven-year-old could have. The sugar rush that Jack had exhibited earlier was beginning to fade, and Colt knew it was getting late, and he should leave. “Why don’t you go wake your mom, and once she’s up and I’m sure she’s not going to face-plant on the stairs, then I’ll leave.”
Jack grinned, and they walked back into the living room. He wanted to stand and stare at her some more but hated for her to wake up to his unabashed perusal. Instead, he walked to the wall next to George’s duplex and looked at the pictures hanging there. Framed photographs of a younger Carrie, her mom, and a man Colt assumed was her dad. Photographs of a young exhausted-but-smiling Carrie holding a newborn. Pictures of the last eleven years, showcasing Jack with his mom, his grandparents, Joe and Mavis, even George…but no father.
When he first saw Carrie at Joe’s Place five years ago, he noted right away that she did not wear a wedding ring, and he was interested. When he found out she was a mom, he assumed she was married and just did not wear a ring. When he found out she was a single mom, he assumed she was divorced. Now, it appeared that Jack’s father had never been in his life.
Turning around, he watched Jack bend over Carrie and shake her gently. “Mom. Mom,” Jack whispered. “Sheriff Hudson is ready to leave, Mom.”
As though the words suddenly hit her brain, Carrie bolted up, her eyes flew open, and she muttered, “I’m awake. I’m awake.”
Jack giggled, and Colt was unable to keep the chuckle from slipping out. Carrie rubbed her eyes and scowled at both of them.
“It’s rude to stare at somebody who’s been sleeping,” she groused.
“Well, you were snoring like a—” Jack began, his grin still wide.
Standing quickly, Carrie wobbled, and Colt took a step forward with his hands out, but she regained her balance. “I did not snore,” she announced. “I never snore.”
Jack and Colt laughed, and he watched as she was unable to keep her lips from curving into a smile as well. She looked at the clock on the TV and said, “Oh, my goodness. Jack, you need to get to bed. Say goodnight to Sheriff Hudson, go on up and get ready, and I’ll be up in just a few minutes.” She leaned over and kissed the top of Jack's head, and Colt heard her whisper, “Thanks for cleaning up, Bud.”
Jack hugged his mom, then bounced over and threw his hand up to high-five Colt. “Thanks for coming and having a popcorn party with us, Sheriff Hudson. It was a blast!” With that, he turned and ran up the stairs, leaving Colt and Carrie staring at each other.
They both walked to the front door at the same time, and as she placed her hand on the doorknob, she looked up, smiling. “It was really nice of you to bring George home tonight. I’m sure you probably have lots of things to do besides hang with us and eat popcorn…even if it was really awesome popcorn.”
Her smile struck him straight to the heart, and he tried to remember if he had ever seen her when she did not appear happy. If he had only seen her at Joe’s Place, he would have assumed it was all an act to keep her tips high. But the times he had seen her away from work, she generally had a smile on her face.
“You’re wrong, and you’re right,” he said. Before she had a chance to question him, he continued, “You’re wrong that I had lots of other things to do tonight, but you’re right about the popcorn. It was awesome.”
They stood smiling at each other for a moment, then she startled as though realizing her hand was still on the doorknob. Pulling it open, she stepped back and allowed him to walk through. He turned around, towering over her, very much in her space, but she did not move back. Instead, she looked up at him, her lips parted slightly, and he battled the desire to kiss her.
“Good night, Sheriff Hudson.” Her voice was soft as she held his gaze.
She had not stepped back, and he hoped he was reading the signals right, not wanting to fuck things up with her. He placed his hand on the curve of her waist, bent, and whispered, “I think we’re getting to the time where you can call me Colt,” just before he barely brushed his lips across hers before leaning back again. “Good night, Carrie. Make sure to lock up behind me.”
He turned and headed to his SUV, and as he pulled himself up into the driver’s seat, he looked toward the house and saw her still standing there, one hand resting on the doorframe, and the other hand lifted, her fingers touching her lips. She startled, then tossed a wave toward him, and stepped back inside the house. He watched as the downstairs light flipped off, and the light upstairs turned on.
It only took a little over ten minutes for him to pull into his own driveway. As his headlights hit the front of his house, he was struck with how much larger it was than her small duplex. Walking inside, he was struck once again with how warm and inviting her home was. Compared to his cold, empty house, she had created a haven from very little.
What the hell was that? Carrie jolted out of her Colt-kiss stupor, closed the door quickly, flipped the lock, then turned around and pressed her back against it. Her lips still tingled, and yet the kiss had lasted no more than two seconds and had been so light that she could have imagined it.
Before she had a chance to consider Colt’s actions further, Jack called from upstairs. “Mom! I’m ready!”
Sucking in a deep breath, she let it out slowly before she said, “I’m coming.” She flipped off the living room lights and walked up the stairs. Going into Jack’s room, she looked at him already in bed. “Wash your face?”
“Yep.”
“Brush your teeth?”
“Yep.”
“Well, I can see you’re in your pajamas, so I guess you're all ready.” She grinned, sitting on the side of his bed.
“Wasn’t that cool for Colt to stay for a party?” Jack asked. “Do you think he’ll come again?”
She thought about how Colt said he would come to Jack’s birthday party and how he was going to buy him the pitching net. Then she thought of the surprise visit tonight. Sucking in her lips, she was not sure how to answer her son. She wanted to say ‘Yes, Colt is interested in us, and he’ll come around more’. But she tried to never make a promise to Jack that she could not keep. She knew that if Jack got used to Colt and then Colt moved on, it would devastate him. Of course, it would not do her any good either, but she figured she could handle it.
“I don’t know, baby. Tonight, he just happened to find us living next door to the man he brought home. I think he likes hanging with you, and he’s one of your coaches, and so he probably felt comfortable coming over and hanging with us a bit. As far as coming back, I don’t know.”
Jack was silent for a moment, and she felt his contemplative perusal. Tilting her head, she waited to see what he was going to say.
“He was watching you.”
That was not what she was expecting, and her eyes widened in surprise. “Huh? He was watching me?”
“We carried the bowls into the kitchen and then he went back to grab some more. I wondered where he went when he didn’t come back right away. He was just standing and stared at you for a moment. When he came back into the kitchen, he had a smile on his face.”
Uncertain how she felt about Colt staring at her while she slept, and even more uncertain about how she felt about Jack witnessing that, she tried to joke. “He must have been listening to me snore.”
Jack shook his head and said, “Nah, Mom. I was only kidding. You don’t snore. He just seemed to like watching you sleep. Then, when he had me wake you up after we washed the dishes, he was looking at all the pictures on the wall downstairs. He didn’t just glance at them. He was really looking at them.”
She sucked in her lips, once more uncertai
n what to do with any of the information Jack was feeding to her. He suddenly yawned widely, and she said, “Oh, my goodness. You’ve got to go to sleep.” She leaned over and kissed his head, and his arms came around her neck to give her a hug. Embracing him in return, she whispered, “Sleep tight.”
Just as she was getting ready to flip off his light, he said, “I like Sheriff Hudson, Mom. I hope he hangs around us some more. I think he likes you.”
Heading into her own bedroom, she went through her nightly routine and climbed into bed. Deciding she was too tired to read, she slid down under the covers. This time not only did thoughts of Colt move through her mind, but she could have sworn her lips were still tingling.
8
“Mom! We’re going to be late!” Jack complained as Carrie pushed the speed of her old car to the exact speed limit, careful not to go over.
“We’re fine, we’re fine,” she claimed, looking at the clock on the dashboard.
She had gone in to work the breakfast crowd at the diner, leaving Jack next door with George. She left as soon the breakfast rush was over, made it back home, ran upstairs, got out of her jeans and polo and jerked on cute capris, pulled her T-shirt over her head, and slid her feet into sandals. Without skipping a beat, she ran a brush through her hair and slid on a baseball cap. Running downstairs, she saw Jack jumping up and down at the door, raring to go.
Now, in the car, she turned onto the road to get to Baytown but knew that she had to slow down to twenty-five miles an hour as they approached.
“Mom!”
“Jack, you might as well settle down and chill out, boy, because I’m not going to get a speeding ticket just to get you to a ballgame.”
“You know Sheriff Hudson, Mom. If you get a speeding ticket, he can just tear it up for you.”
She shook her head, casting a glance toward Jack. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work that way in real life. And anyway, this is Baytown. If I get a speeding ticket, it would be from Chief Evans.”
Our Time (Baytown Boys Book 11) Page 6