Colt was shocked, but he wasn’t about to let an opportunity like that pass. He wanted to know more. “You’d talk to him about us? The things we used to do together?”
“No, not really.” She took a sip of her water. “But we’d go to parties and events around town, and he’d hear me talking to high school friends about some of the crazy stunts we pulled, things we used to do together for fun. Our friends didn’t mean to be disrespectful to my husband, but they couldn’t talk about the old days without mentioning you. You were a huge part of my life, a big part of all of our lives.”
Colt had never expected to feel sorry for her ex, but competing with some faceless dude who’d been his wife’s first couldn’t have been easy for him. “I guess I never thought too much about our friends after I left. It was easier not to, you know?”
“Was it easier to just forget about me too?”
“I never forgot about you, Gabby. You know that.”
Paula returned with their food. “Can I get you kids anything else?”
Colt smiled, thinking how long it had been since someone had referred to him as a kid. In a lot of ways, it was nice to return home to the people who’d known him way back when. “No, I think we’re good. Thanks.”
“Actually”—Gabby bit her lip—“it’s been ages since I’ve had a vanilla milkshake.”
“Coming right up, hon,” Paula said before hustling back to the kitchen.
“God, I forgot how much you used to love those things.” Colt grinned. “Those and banana splits.”
“Yeah, I can’t indulge the way I used to though.” She patted her flat stomach. “I swear something happens to your metabolism when you turn thirty. You can’t eat the way you used to unless you’re willing to sweat it out in the gym, and that is not my thing.”
“No.” He brought his burger to his lips. “I remember you liked to work up a sweat other ways.”
She blushed before popping a fry in her mouth. “You are so bad.”
He liked that he could tease her again, that things seemed to be getting easier the more time they spent together. Maybe they could make this friends thing work… if that was his only option. They ate in silence for a few minutes before Paula returned with the milkshake.
As she took a sip, Gabby’s eyes widened before she groaned. “God, this is so good.”
“Anything that makes you moan like that must be.” He chuckled when she shook her head.
“Want some?” She extended the straw, reminding him of the days they used to come to this very diner and she’d share her decadent treats with him.
“Sure.” There was something intimate about watching her while wrapping his mouth around the same straw she’d used. “You’re right. It is good.” He licked his lips. “Even better than I remember, but then a lot of things are.”
She withdrew her glass and took another sip before she set it down. “Does that mean you like being back here?”
“I do.” He hadn’t expected to feel at home, yet he did. “I’m thinking it could work this time, especially if you and I can figure out a way to be… friends?”
“Is that what we are?” She took a bite of her tuna melt. “Friends?”
“I’d like us to be. Wouldn’t you?”
She nodded. “Yeah, I would.”
He raised his glass and tapped it against hers. “To good friends, the kind who know all your deepest, darkest secrets.”
She smiled. “To friends.”
***
Gabby was dying for Colt to kiss her good night on her front porch, but that would have meant breaking her own rule.
“I guess this is good night,” he said, looking as though he didn’t want the evening to end any more than she did. “Thanks for hanging out with me. I had fun.”
“I did too.” She gave him a quick, friendly hug. It seemed to catch him off guard because it took a second for his arms to close around her.
“Uh, maybe we could do it again sometime. You know, as friends.”
“Maybe.” She knew she was flirting with trouble, agreeing to the possibility of spending more time with Colt. He’d always been like a drug to her—one hit and she was hooked. That was why it had been so much easier when he’d been living out state. Out of sight… but never really out of mind.
He leaned against her red wood door, looking as though he was in no hurry to leave. “I know I’m probably not making things easy for you.”
“Meaning?”
“Like you said, this is a small town. If people see us out today, all the single guys in town will assume we’re dating and won’t ask you out.”
She pursed her lips, trying not to indulge him. “I’m willing to risk it.”
“You are?” he asked, looking genuinely surprised. “But I thought you were ready for another relationship.”
She shrugged, letting her heavy purse slide off her shoulder to rest at her feet. “I am. If it happens, great. If it doesn’t, I’m okay with that too.”
She didn’t want to be single forever, but she was in no hurry to commit to someone new, especially since she suspected her newfound friendship with Colt would cause problems unless the man in her life was very secure.
“I feel like maybe I’m being unfair to you, monopolizing your time when you could be spending it with someone else.”
“It’s a little late for a fishing expedition, isn’t it, Colt?”
He flashed her a quick grin before dipping his head. “Okay, you got me. Maybe I want to hear you tell me that there’s no one you’d rather spend your time with than me.”
It was true, but that admission would lead to others, and before she knew it, she’d be right back where she’d started—in a half-assed relationship with a man she still loved. She couldn’t risk that.
“I don’t know that I’d go that far.” She curled her hand around his wrist, stepping closer. “But I will say I’m glad you’re back.” I’ve missed you.
“I am too.” He curled his hand around her jaw, and it was obvious he was fighting the urge to kiss her. “Being here with you makes sense. It feels right.”
She bit her lip, trying to hold back. It would be so easy to tell him the truth—that being with him made her feel as though everything was clicking into place for the first time in a really long time.
“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he whispered, stepping closer.
They were standing toe-to-toe, and she barely had room to breathe, much less think. “I’m thinking there’s no room for rational thought where you’re concerned.” It was embarrassing but true. He made it feel scatterbrained and confused but somehow clear at the same time.
“You’re not alone in that.” His half smile reassured her that he was torn between happiness and confusion just as she was. “I can make split-second decisions at work, where millions of dollars and long-standing relationships are on the line, but with you, I feel paralyzed sometimes. As though there’s too much riding on the outcome for me to make a decision.”
“I thought you’d already made your decision about me.” She was holding her breath, torn between hoping he’d changed his mind and terrified he had.
“Yeah, well, I waver about that every other minute.”
“You?” Wide-eyed, she feigned surprised. “The guy who’s always been so sure of himself, who knows exactly what he wants and how to get it?”
“I don’t know how to get this.” His voice was a raspy whisper, his lips floating just above hers. “I keep telling myself that I have no business wanting you, that I’m being a selfish bastard for not leaving you alone.”
“What if I don’t want you to leave me alone?” Gabby knew that she was sinking deeper into quicksand when the thought of never seeing Colt again left her with a familiar ache in her chest.
“What are we doing?” he asked, sounding frustrated as he dropped his head.
“We’re”—falling in love all over again—“trying to figure things out.”
“I’m not all that hard to figure out. I a
lready told you all you need to know about me.”
“I know what you told me.” She smoothed her skirt, needing something to hold on to so she wouldn’t reach for him. “But I’m not sure if I believe you.”
“You have to believe me, sweetheart.” The pain was evident in his eyes when he said, “For your own good.”
“Isn’t it possible that you have so much rage inside you because you’ve never dealt with it?”
“It’s not that I haven’t tried.”
“Have you? Really?” Challenging him seemed to be the only way she could get through to him, but if his temper had become as volatile as he claimed, she knew she was taking a risk. “When was the last time you visited the house you grew up in… or saw your mother?”
His jaw clenched as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, making it obvious he had no intention of touching her now. “It’s been a while.”
“You’re still angry with her. You think that she should have done a better job of protecting her children.”
“No, I’m over that.”
“You’re lying.” Despite his warnings, she’d never really been afraid of Colt. He might scream or throw things or tear out of her driveway in a fit of anger, but he’d never hurt her. Physically.
“Think what you want. I don’t have—”
“Do you want to change?” She’d been asking herself for the past year whether Colt was content to be a prisoner to his rage, but she’d been afraid to ask.
“Of course I do.”
“Then you have to find the courage. Man up.” Questioning Colt’s masculinity was one surefire way to throw down the gauntlet. “Tell your parents all the things you should have told them years ago. Confront them both. Let it all out.”
He released a shuddering breath. “If I come face-to-face with my father again, I’m afraid of what I might do to him.” He shook his head. “How messed up am I? I hate his guts, yet I’m paying for his care and making sure he has the best of everything.”
“You’re doing that because you’re a good man,” Gabby said, wrapping her hand around the back of his neck as she coaxed him to look her in the eye. “You don’t want him to be a burden to the state, so you stepped up and took responsibility. I admire that. He may not deserve you, Colt, but he’s damn lucky to have you.”
“I don’t know.” He closed his eyes. “I don’t know that going to see him would solve anything. It might make things worse.”
“Can they get any worse? You’re afraid to live your life, afraid to take chances, afraid to love. How much worse could it get?”
“What I’m afraid of is hurting you.”
“You are hurting me.” She slid her hand from around his neck and let it slide down his chest. “Being here with you, knowing that I can never really be with you the way I want to because of all of your baggage… that’s hurting me.”
“Does that mean if I dealt with all this shit, you’d be willing to give me another chance? I thought you didn’t trust me to stick around?”
“Trust doesn’t happen overnight,” she said, knowing she needed more time to figure out whether Colt would really make Vista Falls his permanent home. “It happens one day at a time.”
“Does that mean you could forgive? And maybe forget?”
“I’ll never forget.” She patted his chest. “The good and the bad is a part of us. I remember it all, and I wouldn’t want it any other way.” His obvious disappointment made her add, “All relationships are like that, you know. A combination of good and bad. If someone has been with their partner a long time and they tell you they have no bad memories, they’re either lying or they suffer from dementia.”
He smiled. “So you’re saying even though I’ve given you plenty of bad memories—”
“You’ve given me plenty of good too. Some of the best of my life, in fact.”
“Thanks for saying that.” He brushed his lips across hers. “I really needed to hear that tonight.”
Chapter Seven
The following morning, Colt was standing on the front lawn, looking up at the House of Horrors, a.k.a. his childhood home. It looked different than he remembered. The dingy old brown façade was a new gray, and the weathered porch and steps had a fresh coat of white paint. There were even some red flowers poking out of planter boxes under the windows. It was nice to see that his mother had been putting the monthly checks he sent her to good use.
He should have called first, but he wasn’t sure he’d actually have the nerve to ring the doorbell, and he didn’t want her to be expecting him in case he decided to bail at the last second. He stared at the new red door, thinking it was almost the same shade as Gabby’s. If it weren’t for her, he wouldn’t be here at all. Last night, she’d given him something he hadn’t had in a long time—hope. So he was here for her. Willing to “man up,” as she put it, if it meant he could get a shot at a real future with her.
He was about to knock on the door when it opened.
“Oh my God,” his mother said, stepping back.
He looked at the plastic watering can in her hand. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you, Mom.”
“You didn’t!” She set the can down before opening her arms to him. “It’s so good to see you, honey. This is a wonderful surprise.”
Honey? He couldn’t remember his mother ever using a term of endearment when she addressed her children. He gave her a quick hug as he cleared his throat then took a step back. “Sorry to just drop by like this. I know I should have called first, but—”
“Nonsense,” she said, grabbing his hand. “You’re welcome here any time. Now get in here and tell me what you’ve been up to.”
As soon as Colt stepped inside, he had a flashback of soiled plaid furniture, walls with holes the size of fists, and empty beer cans cluttering every surface. Except the house didn’t look anything like that now.
The walls were painted a soft gray, and the furniture was light blue with colorful throw cushions. There was a flat screen TV in the corner and framed family photos on the mantel. For the first time ever, it looked like a real family home.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, tears filling her blue eyes. “It looks different, huh? I decided when your dad moved out that it was time for some changes. I set aside a bit of that money you were generous enough to send me every month and made the improvements gradually. I did most of the work myself to save.”
“You did this?” He was shocked. When he was growing up, his mother had barely had the energy to throw a frozen dinner in the oven or grab a garbage bag to collect all the empty beer cans.
“I sure did.” A blush crept up her neck, fanning up to her silver hairline. “It’s kind of been a hobby of mine for a little while now. DIY, they call it.” She smiled. “Bet you didn’t think your old Ma had it in her to do anything worthwhile, did you?”
“This place looks great.” Realizing he wouldn’t have believed his mother had any special skills if he hadn’t seen them with his own eyes hurt Colt. He looked at the wood banister, thinking of all the times he’d run up those stairs to escape his old man’s wrath. Trying to banish the bad memories, he cleared his throat. “Uh, the banister and stairs were dark wood before, weren’t they?” Now they were white, and there was a blue green glass mosaic on the risers.
“Everything in this house was so dark and depressing,” she said with a sigh. “I wanted to brighten it up, make it more cheerful and welcoming if I could.” She reached for his hand, seeming hesitant. “I kept hoping you or your brother and sister might want to come home for a visit sometime. If you did, I wanted this to be a place you’d be proud of, one that wouldn’t remind you of what you came up from.”
He discreetly withdrew his hand, shoving both in his pockets. He wasn’t ready to pretend a coat of paint could erase all those memories. “It looks like you keep in touch with Kaley and Joe,” he said, gesturing to the framed pictures on the mantel.
“Oh, they email me pictures now and again,” she sai
d, stepping back to admire her little collage in mosaic frames. “I wish you did. The only pictures I have of you are ones I pulled off of the Internet.”
Upon closer inspection, he realized she’d framed his headshot from their company website and one of him and Wes providing a big check at a fundraiser on behalf of Backwoods. “I guess I didn’t think you’d want them.”
Tears filled her eyes. “Colt, why would you think that? You’re my firstborn—”
“Let’s be real for a minute.” He’d come to lay it out there, not to hide behind good manners. “You never cared about me when I was growing up. Why should I believe you care now?”
She swallowed, but her gaze never wavered from his. “Fair enough. But will you at least give me a chance to tell you my side of the story?”
“You don’t have to,” he said, feeling as though his visit was about to spiral out of control as all of his repressed anger came back to the surface. “I was there, remember? I lived it!”
“Come in here,” she said, gesturing toward the living room. “Please, just sit down with me for a minute. Listen to what I have to say. If you don’t believe me or you don’t want to believe me, you can leave and I’ll understand, I promise.”
Since he’d come with questions, he decided to let her say her piece, and he hoped he’d leave with a better understanding of the woman who’d allowed her children to live with a monster instead of protecting them the way she should have. He sat in a pale blue armchair that looked a little feminine, but at least he could be sure his father had never sat in it. “Fine, but I don’t have a lot of time. I have to get to the office.”
“Would you like something to drink or—”
“No, what I want is some answers. Why?” He let the question hang in the air, knowing she could draw her own conclusions. Why did you stay? Why did you let him hurt us? Why didn’t you protect us or try to defend us? Why didn’t you love us?
Letting Go (Vista Falls #3) Page 7