Colton

by Melissa Belle

  “Um.” I bite my lip. “Okay. Thank you. That would be nice.”

  He puts his left hand on the small of my back, guiding me down the sand. But once we reach Maxwell and Ted, Colton keeps his hand on my back, almost possessively.

  “Hey, man!” Maxwell extends his hand to Colton, who takes it. “How are you?”

  “I’m good. You looked great out there. I saw you catch a wave while I was jogging past.”

  Maxwell grins. “Yeah, that would have been an awesome ride. I pulled up on purpose, but I could have rode that wave easily.”

  Colton nods politely, and then turns to me. “This is Skylar Rosewood. Skylar’s an old friend. She and I go way back.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Maxwell’s eyes roam my soaking wet body assessingly. “Have a little accident with the sea gods, love?”

  I grit my teeth. “Nothing a hot shower can’t cure.”

  “What about a shower for two?” Maxwell winks.

  Excuse me?

  I wanted Maxwell to be nice, as kind and gentle as I made him out to be in my head. A lover of elephants should be a gentleman. But I’ve been in this business long enough to know that sexist assholes come with the job. They’re part of the terrain, like the way a helmet is part of a football game. Or a surfboard is a part of Maxwell White, as evidenced by how tightly he’s holding the beautifully painted one underneath his arm. And going all ballistic on said assholes doesn’t win me a lot of interviews.

  I let out a long breath. “Listen, Mr. White…”

  “Skylar’s a professional journalist for ARTWAVE,” Colton says quickly, his eyes turning dark as he fixes them on Maxwell. “Care to set up a time to talk with her? On the record?”

  “WACR-TV is looking to do a full-length piece on an artist and his backstory,” I jump in. “The marketing for it would be top notch, and Ted’s photography is the best. Plus, you get final approval on the list of questions before we go live.”

  Maxwell runs his hand over his chin. His gaze dips far below my face, and I nearly kick him in the nuts. Finally, I snap my fingers.

  “Hey! Up here.” I point at my eyes until he makes contact. “There you go! So, what do you say to the interview?”

  * * *

  Fifteen minutes later, I squeal excitedly as Colton walks beside me along the shoreline.

  “I can’t believe he said yes!” I break into a smile. “Do you know what this interview could do for my career? I’ve been waiting forever to get a legitimate star to sit down with me.”

  Colton’s dimple flashes. “I’m happy for you.”

  I put my hand around his bicep and squeeze. God, he’s built. “Thank you so much, Colton. I owe you one.”

  He abruptly turns me toward the cliffs and away from the ocean.

  “What are you doing?” I say as he keeps my hand on his arm and starts walking toward the road.

  “Taking you up on your offer. You said you owed me one, right? Well, I’m collecting.”

  “Already?” My heart starts beating wildly as I struggle to keep up with his long strides. “What about ‘text me and we’ll meet for a coffee?’ That would be much better for me. Because right now I’m wet, and I’m…”

  “Wet.” Colton’s eyes sweep down my body in a way that makes my toes curl. “You’re wet, and I have just the cure for that.”

  I let out a shaky breath. “What—is the cure?”

  He gestures to the wooden stairway just ahead of us. A closed gate opens as we reach it.

  “How did that open?” I demand.

  Colton reaches into his pocket and holds out his hand to me.

  “A remote opener.” I shake my head. “Nice.”

  I look up the cliff, but I can’t see anything other than brush and palm trees.

  “You can’t see the house from here.” Colton takes my hand firmly in his, but I pull away from him. “Come on. In all seriousness, Skylar, you need to take off those clothes and warm up or you’re going to get sick.”

  “Colton.” I stop walking at the edge of the open gate and just…kind of stand there on the sand. I squeeze the strap of my bag and wrap it around my wrist.

  I’m being stubborn, but the truth is that…I’m scared. I’m scared of how Colton makes me feel. I always have been. For a girl who learned since she was six years old that the world just works better when you steel your heart and throw away the key, the uncontrollable emotions I’ve always felt around this man terrify me.

  Colton stands right in front of me, his gaze penetratingly intense on mine. His blue eyes betray a vulnerability that surprises me.

  My words come out in a whisper. “What do you want me to say?”

  He cages me in gently, his large hands leaning against the fence posts on either side of me. His lips brush my ear as he murmurs in a rough voice: “Say yes.”

  I fist my hands to keep from touching him. But I take the leap. “Yes.”

  Chapter Two

  Colton

  I can’t believe she’s here. Skylar Rosewood is in my house, and I’m fucking nervous. I usher her into the guest bathroom, and show her where the towels are. Then I give her a pair of my Cougars sweatpants and a sweatshirt to wear.

  “I’m going to jump in the shower myself,” I say as I lean against the bathroom door jam.

  Skylar’s eyes go wide and her cheeks flush the sweetest pink.

  I chuckle. “Sweetheart, I’m going to shower in my bathroom.” I point down the hall.

  She flushes even redder. “Oh. Of course.” She shoos me out of the doorway. “Go away, then. Let me shower in peace.”

  I walk away quickly, hoping she didn’t see the obvious bulge in my shorts. But as I get into the shower, and let the hot water pour over me, I can’t stop thinking about her.

  I still can’t believe that the woman who caught my eye on the beach turned out to be Sky. I was so worried about making sure she was all right after our collision, and the wave, that it took me a few minutes to recognize her.

  And then we argued, just like ten years ago, and everything about it turned me on. She was all pissed off and shooting daggers at me with those gorgeous green eyes, and I was…happy. At peace. There was no awkwardness between us, no superficial conversation. It was all real. Just like her. Every time she countered me with another argumentative comment, I loved it. I was having the most fun I’ve had talking to a woman since…her. And once I was sure she was okay, I had to make sure she came home with me. Because I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance.

  Skylar Rosewood is the one that got away. The beautiful, sassy-mouthed girl I met one summer in Colorado, and spent one amazing night with. I was seventeen and on a last vacation with my parents before Dad died. We knew he was dying, and the whole trip was tinged with sadness, a pain that no one would speak of.

  As an only child, my parents were my best friends. But I couldn’t talk to them about how I felt, because they were feeling it, too. I had my cousins, the group of boys—now men—who always have my back. But when my father was sick, I felt isolated and alone, even from them. So like I always do, I threw myself into sports to numb the pain. I hung out with my parents during the days in the luxury campground at the base of the mountains, but I played football every evening with the other kids in the resort. I didn’t meet Skylar until her last night in Boulder. Her older brothers signed her up for our football game, apparently against her wishes. She was sixteen and all legs back then, thin and tall and still growing into herself. But her body was perfection, and so was her heart.

  I spotted her across the field before we’d even kicked off.

  The redhead with the creamy white skin that looked like it had never seen the sun. Her green eyes were so bright they shined like emeralds when I walked over to introduce myself. She threatened to kick me in the balls if I so much as hit on her, though, and I laughed and said she couldn’t possibly scare me off.

  I made sure to head her way every chance I got. She hated football, complained about the rules constantly. But she
was determined, and fast. She provided a spark to her team. So I started calling her Sparky. That pissed her off. But the Jackass name she appropriated to me was specifically earned when I picked her up and carried her downfield. By the third quarter, I’d gotten into a habit of brushing up close to her when I was running by, and yes—in a particularly impulsive moment, I threw her over my shoulder and carried her down the field with me. I got a hard-on from having my hand on her ass as she kicked and screamed at me to put her the fuck down. She always had a dirty mouth on her, and I loved it. For the rest of the game, I annoyed the crap out of her the way a kid would pull a girl’s pigtails in elementary school. And when the game ended, we all sat around the campfire and snuck some beers from one of the kids’ parents’ fridge in their ritzy mobile home.

  Skylar acted like she hated me, but she couldn’t take her eyes off me from where she sat across the campfire. Before I knew it, we were the only two left awake. I slid over to her log, and asked her to go for a walk with me by the creek.

  We talked all night. When everyone else was gone to bed, and the only light around was the moon above us, Skylar and I found out we had a lot in common. We talked about how her father wasn’t a part of her family any longer, we talked about how strong her mom is, and I told her about my dad. How he was my hero, and how the one thing I promised myself was that I’d make him proud someday. She held my hand and brushed away the tears that came despite my best efforts to hold them back.

  She broke all my walls down. She shattered them. Every girl that came before her meant nothing. Every date I’d ever had before suddenly seemed insignificant. Skylar was all I saw, and all I wanted. The need to be with her consumed me.

  Sitting by the stream, with the only sounds the bullfrogs mating, I leaned over and kissed her. I wanted to inhale her. She was everything that I was craving. She was so…alive. Feisty and smart but with a temper—all of her turned me on more than I ever knew possible. Our clothes came off far too easily, and her hands were all over me. She asked me if I had protection.

  I didn’t.

  We stopped.

  But not before I asked if I could taste her, and touch her, and make her feel so fucking good that she’d be sure to never forget about the boy she met her last night in Colorado.

  She turned me down.

  She put on her clothes, quickly and methodically, and then she leaned down, kissed me on the cheek, and ran off.

  I chased her down, of course. I walked her back to her camper, kissed her good-bye, and asked for her contact information. She typed her number and address into my phone, and handed it back to me.

  Then she disappeared inside a barebones trailer, the only one in the resort that wasn’t all bells and whistles. Her uncle managed the resort, so her Mom, a single parent, could stay with her kids for free. Unlike the rest of us, who were so spoiled rotten we could have used a good hard dose of financial reality.

  I waved good-bye to her one last time, and turned away for my family’s motor coach.

  I missed her already. I craved her something crazy.

  And I don’t think I ever got over it.

  I never stopped thinking about her, though. After the best damn kiss of my life, paired with lying next to the most amazing rocking body I’d ever touched, I wanted more.

  I wanted a date. I wanted a string of dates. I wanted it all, with the only girl who’d ever stolen my breath with one kiss.

  When I returned home to Montana, I made myself wait three days to call her.

  That’s when I realized she’d tricked me.

  I frown as I turn off the showerhead and step out. I want to know what made Skylar decide to type the wrong contact information into my phone. Did she not trust me? Not want to see me again?

  I towel off and pull on my favorite flannel shirt and worn pair of blue jeans. Then I walk through my house in bare feet, determined to find out exactly what Skylar Rosewood thinks of me.

  * * *

  I’m in the middle of pouring two cups of tea when she steps into the kitchen.

  “So you must have a pretty good-sized contract to be living here.” Skylar’s statement is sardonic, but even she can’t hide the hint of admiration in her voice.

  I hand her the cup of tea I just brewed and then suck in my breath.

  My sweatpants and sweatshirt are too big for her, but nothing can hide the fantastic curves of her breasts and ass. My gaze travels to her bare feet, where her toenails are painted a sexy shade of red. I drag my attention back up her body, to where her fiery red hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, and her face has been stripped of all makeup.

  “What?”

  Sky brings her hand to her head and her porcelain skin flushes everywhere I can see it. Her neck, her cheeks—all flushed pink. Jesus. I want to put my lips all over that skin of hers.

  “Colton! You’re staring—is there something wrong?” Skylar’s eyes narrow in annoyance, and she tugs at the strap of her handbag nervously.

  I let out my breath and gesture her toward the living room, and the comfy burgundy couch with the view of the Pacific.

  “Nothing’s wrong. You look younger without makeup. And with your hair back like that.” I wait for her to choose where she wants to sit down on the couch, and then I sit carefully on the other end. “I like it.”

  “Oh.” She withdraws her accusing gaze and relaxes into the couch cushions.

  Before I can respond, my intercom buzzes.

  Sky jumps. “Expecting company?” she asks, making to get up. “I’ll get out of your way.”

  But I tell her to stay where she is. “It’s just my team doctor. He’s here to make sure you’re okay.”

  “What?” Her green eyes narrow. “You called your team physician? For me?”

  “He’s my neighbor,” I explain. “He’s literally right down the road. It’s no trouble for him.”

  She tries to protest, but I cut her off gently. “I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  Something about my expression calms her, and she relaxes back on the couch.

  * * *

  Skylar

  Dr. Williams is very polite. He opens up his medical bag right there in Colton’s living room, and proceeds to look me over.

  And Colton stays.

  Through my entire work-up, from Dr. Williams’ poking and prodding of my head, to checking my blood pressure, and my heartbeat, to administering a battery of tests to check for concussion, Colton stands protectively by my side, but with his gaze averted like a gentleman.

  Which confuses me. Because Colton Wild is no gentleman. That’s what I’d convinced myself of for the past ten years.

  But I’ve been lying to myself, and even I’m not so dense to miss that. Colton was mischievous, but he was so much more. My memories of him have always been too big to put in a box, although God knows I’ve tried for a decade.

  Dr. Williams says I’m fine, and that I don’t appear to have hit my head. “Looks more like you got the wind knocked out of you, and swallowed some ocean water,” he says. “You’ll be fine. Just take it easy today, and make sure to see a doctor if you experience any of the symptoms I mentioned.”

  “I will,” I say to him. “Thank you so much.”

  As Colton shows the doctor to the door, I fidget on his couch. He and I are about to be alone again.

  * * *

  Colton

  When I return to the living room, I take my original seat at the far end of the couch.

  Sky gives me a nervous smile. “This is a really great house, Colton. I wouldn’t have thought something so expensive could feel this homey.”

  I nod and take a sip of my tea. “Yeah. I looked around for months before I found a house that felt like a home. I didn’t want just a place to sleep in; I wanted to feel comfortable here.”

  Her gaze softens. “You did a great job.”

  My voice comes out uneven. “Thanks.”

  She glances at the assortment of photographs on the wall behind the couch, an
d touches one of the frames. “Who are these handsome guys? I see you in the center, but the six of you are far too hot to be standing all together like that.”

  I chuckle. “My four cousins plus my childhood friend.” I point from one to the next in turn as I rattle off their names. “Dylan, Brayden, Cameron, and Ayden, and the last one on the right—that’s Jenson, my buddy since we were kids. Other than him, the rest of us are Wilds, in more ways than just our last name. Our fathers were brothers, and we’ve been close our whole lives. All those guys are my best friends.”

  Skylar keeps her eyes fastened on mine. “The last time we saw each other, your dad was…”

  I nod, cutting her off from having to continue. “He passed away two months later. This summer marks ten years. It’s just me and my mom now.”

  Her hand goes to her mouth and her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, God. Colton, I’m so sorry. I knew he was sick, but you didn’t say how bad it was.”

  “The doctors weren’t sure. They had us still hoping for a miracle. You know, sometimes miracles happen. But not always.”

  “No.” Her voice is barely above a whisper. “Not always.”

  Before I realize what’s happening, she’s shifted forward on the couch so our knees are touching. She puts her soft hand over mine and laces our fingers together.

  “I wish I’d been there for you. I’m such an asshole.” Her tone is tinged with self-hatred.

  I squeeze her hand in mine. “I called you. When I realized you’d purposefully given me the wrong number and address, I probably should have taken the hint. But I don’t give up easily.”

  Her lips part. “You tried to find me?”

  “After my letter to you was returned to me, and my phone call wouldn’t go through, I called every Rosewood listed in Connecticut. It wasn’t that hard; your name’s not Smith.”

  She gives a hint of a smile.

  “I couldn’t even get your actual damn address. I know social media wasn’t that big then, but still—you and your brothers leave no trace, do you?”