by Jennie Marts
Cheese and rice. Not everything Colt said had to have a double meaning or carry a negative connotation. Maybe he hadn’t meant his earlier comment the way she’d heard it. She needed to quit overanalyzing every word out of the man’s mouth and just enjoy spending time with him and his perfectly lovely family.
And she was going home with him, so they could talk it through later and she could simply ask him what he meant. Yeah right. A confrontation was just what she wanted when they left here. And she was so awesome at fearlessly broaching uncomfortable subjects.
But the only way she would find out was to ask him. She had to. But for now, they had to eat.
The group moved toward the table, which had already been set for the meal. Colt pulled out a chair for her, then dropped into the seat next to it. Warmth bloomed in her chest as he picked up her hand, until Quinn picked up her other hand, and she realized they were just preparing to say the blessing.
Ham bent his head, and his deep voice flowed across the table. “Father, thank you for this day. Thank you for the moisture, for these good folks around the table, and for the blessings we are about to receive. Amen.” He was a man of few words, but he got the job done.
Chloe looked up in time to catch the quick wink and extra squeeze he gave Vivi’s hand before he let go and reached for the platter of roast beef. Swallowing hard, she had to look away, feeling like she’d intruded on a private moment and fighting a twinge of jealousy.
Colt’s thumb rubbed the back of her hand before the table erupted into the act of passing the food and filling plates. He let go as his brother passed him a bowl of mashed potatoes.
“So, how’s the new team look?” Rock asked. “I’m going to try to come watch their practice tomorrow night.”
“Good,” Colt answered. “We’ve got a fun group of kids, and a couple of them are pretty good. Don’t you think, Chloe?”
“Uh, yeah. They all seem excited to play.”
“That’s half the battle,” Rock said.
“The other half of the battle is finding a kid willing to play goalie, and we’ve got one of those. The Henderson twins are on the team, and they’re both beefy kids and they can skate so I think I’m going to make them our defensive line. I can’t remember their names, but they have red hair so I keep calling them Fred and George.”
Chloe grinned at the reference to her favorite books. Okay, maybe Colt was her soul mate. Or getting closer to it anyway.
“I’m going to play forward because I like to score,” Max announced.
“So does Rock,” Quinn muttered under her breath, nudging Chloe with her elbow.
She almost choked on her sip of iced tea.
Rock must have heard it too. He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at his new wife as he proclaimed, “And I’m very skilled at scoring. I strive to get a hat trick in every game.”
The table erupted in chuckles as Vivi swatted at her eldest son. “Stop it.”
“What’s a hat trick?” Max asked, wanting to be in on the joke.
“It just means you score three times in one night…er…game,” Rock said, still grinning impishly at Quinn.
“Oh. I’m going to do that then.”
Ham patted his grandson on the shoulder. “Sometimes it’s easier said than done, son. Just go out there and do your best. It still counts if you give it your all.”
“Absolutely,” Vivi agreed, avoiding looking any of her children in the eye.
Chloe bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing. She liked this family. “Speaking of giving it your all, our lone girl on the team, Maddie, is doing great as well,” she said, earning a thankful smile from Vivi. “She’s really picking up the skills, and she skates better than some of the boys after only one night of practice. She has this confidence that she can do anything and throws herself into learning it all.” She wished she could bottle up some of the girl’s enthusiasm and courage and throw back a shot of it every morning.
The conversation moved from the kids’ team to Rock’s team, then on to the happenings of the ranch and how the recent snow was much-needed moisture. Even though she had a little trouble keeping up with all the conversations, Chloe enjoyed listening to the family’s easy rapport. She liked the way they teased and joked with each other, yet the admiration and respect for each other, especially for Vivi and Hamm, was always present.
Between the time spent at the table, cleaning up, and having dessert, the afternoon flew by in a mix of laughter, teasing, and loud chaotic bedlam. Between the dogs—and the brothers—wrestling with each other and Max, and the constant clatter of dishes being served and cleaned up, Chloe’s head was swimming. She tried to pitch in and help where she could, drying dishes, wiping down counters, and carrying things to and from the kitchen, but it seemed like as soon as they got one thing cleaned up, they messed up another.
Vivi and Quinn must have been used to the pandemonium because they didn’t seemed fazed at all. They were perfectly relaxed and often jumped in with sarcastic remarks or a well-timed clever line, but Chloe’s nerves were frayed and the introvert in her needed a little peace and quiet.
It wasn’t as if she was unused to some chaos—she did teach grade-school kids. But that was controlled chaos, and at school, she was in charge, she made the rules. Here, she had no influence, no say in when or how things would go. Her classroom was the one place she did feel confident. She knew she was good with kids. If they were under four feet tall, she could handle them.
It was the over-six-foot hot-as-heck cowboy and his rowdy family that she wasn’t too sure about. The disorder and commotion she had no control over coupled with the doubts about Colt’s earlier conversation had her confidence fleeing to hide in the bathroom with the door locked and the lights off.
Colt hadn’t been overly affectionate, but several times he’d brushed his fingers over her hand, and the side of his hip had always pressed close against hers when they were standing together or sitting on the sofa next to each other.
There were a few secret moments they’d shared, a smile or a wink meant just for her, and a dart of heat had spun down her spine when he’d made the offhand comment during dessert about how he’d been craving cupcakes lately.
Finally, ready to head back, she thanked Vivi for the meal. She and Colt went through another round of hugs before they made it to the door. Quinn promised to text her the next day to confirm their plans for Taco Tuesday girls’ night out.
Colt was helping her with her coat when Aunt Sassy reached for her arm. “Hold on, honey. I’ve been thinking about you and this Rank fella, and I want to give you something.” She gestured for her nephew to pass her the purple purse hanging from the rack.
Shame and regret washed through Chloe. She dropped her gaze to the floor, wishing she could just forget the whole ordeal. They certainly didn’t need to talk about it anymore. And if Colt’s aunt passed her a well-meaning crisis-hotline brochure, she would die. But surely the likelihood she’d be carrying one of those in her purse had to be fairly slim. Although, the woman’s purse was about the size of the Front Range mountains, so who knew what she could have in there.
“Here we go,” Aunt Sassy proclaimed in victory, handing the bag back to Colt and pressing a small canister covered in pink sparkly gems into Chloe’s hand. “You take this, honey. It’s pepper spray, and all you need to do is twist the lid to open it, then point and shoot. This baby has a sixteen-foot range.”
“Oh, I couldn’t.”
“Sure, you can. Having this on your key chain helps gives you a sense of security. And I want you to feel more confident and have a way to defend yourself if that jackwad shows up again.”
Chloe stared down at the small, sparkly canister, wishing it really did hold the power to give her confidence. “But what about you?”
“Oh, don’t worry about me, hon. I’ve got another one just like this at home. I get these as two-for
-one specials from Amazon. I think I have one rolling around in every drawer in my house.”
Colt nudged his aunt’s arm. “She likes to be prepared. Even though I can’t imagine who would mess with a tough old bird like her.”
Aunt Sassy raised an eyebrow at her nephew. “This tough old bird is going to give you a sock in the mouth if you dare to compare me to an overcooked chicken again.”
He held up his hands in surrender as he chuckled. “Sorry, Aunt Sassy. What I meant to say was I can’t imagine wanting to harm someone as sweet and kind as you.”
“Damn skippy.” She nodded and winked at Chloe. “Now you take that and hook it to your keys or the side of your bag, somewhere you can easily get to it if you need it.”
Chloe closed her hand around the canister. “Thank you. It’s very thoughtful.” She unzipped her bag and strung it on her keyring, then dropped them back into the outer pocket and zipped it closed. Sassy was right. Having the canister in her bag did give her a tiny boost of confidence.
“As long as we’re giving you things to take home, why don’t you take this as well,” Vivi chimed in as she headed across the room. She lifted a silver antique revolver from the mantel of the fireplace. “I got some new candles and a floral arrangement that I want to put up here, and this throws off the look of my decor.” She hefted the gun into her hand and brought it over to give to Colt.
He grinned. “You know that’s my favorite gun.”
“I know. That’s why I’m giving it to you. You can put it on display on your fireplace.”
He aimed the gun out the front window toward the barn. “This thing has come in handy. I had to use it in a gunfight against a couple of low-life mobsters this summer,” he told Chloe as he spun the barrel around his index finger.
“You were in a fight with some low-life mobsters this summer?”
“Not an actual fight, more like a showdown at high noon, where we fended them off gunslinger style.” He grinned at his brothers and spun the gun again, landing the butt of it in his palm and handed it to her. “Here, you want to put this in your bag too? Just until we get back to the house. Then I’ll tell you the whole story.”
Chloe hesitated, staring down at the weapon, uncertain even how to hold it. Guns scared her.
“Don’t worry, it’s not loaded,” he said with a chuckle.
She wasn’t sure what was so funny about that, but everyone else seemed to be in on the joke, so she took the gun and set it gingerly inside her open purse, then zipped it back up.
* * *
Bundled back in their scarves and gloves, they headed out, Colt whistling for the dog as they walked down the front porch steps toward the four-wheeler. He brushed the seat off, and Chloe climbed on behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle. The afternoon had been full of crazy thoughts and confusing concerns about what was happening with them, and she struggled to make sense of it all as they rode back to the cabin. She had no idea what would happen when they made it back, so she savored the feeling of pressing her body to his and laying her head against his muscled back. The air smelled like pine and the distant earthy scent of the horse stable.
He took it a little slow, she assumed for Watson since he’d been playing with the other dogs all afternoon and should be worn out. But the golden raced along the trail next to them with as much enthusiasm as he had on the way there.
The sun was setting, and like the impending night, a darkness settled in her as she replayed the afternoon in her mind. It should have been great. They’d had such a wonderful weekend together, but her insecurities and doubts kept messing with her head. She analyzed every look and touch of the afternoon.
He hadn’t come right out and told his family they were involved. But why would he? Maybe he assumed they would figure it out. Or maybe he simply wasn’t big on public displays of affection. Or did he play down their involvement because he was ashamed of her?
Back up there, sister.
No one said the two of them were dating. In fact, neither of them had said anything about what was going to happen when they left the cabin and went back to their real lives.
They pulled up in front of the house, and she tried to shake off the darkness and not let her feelings show. But apparently she was even worse at disguising her feelings than she was at learning to ice skate.
“You all right there, darlin’?” Colt asked her as they walked into the cabin and hung up their coats. “You seemed awful quiet this afternoon.”
“I’m fine,” she said. Tell him. The easiest way to answer all her questions and doubts was to simply ask him what he was thinking—to tell him what was bothering her and clear the air. Just ask him what that crack about saving another person had meant, what this whole weekend had meant. She opened her mouth to speak, the questions on her tongue, but she couldn’t do it. The anxiety of him confirming her fears outweighed the desire for the truth about his feelings. If she didn’t ask him, he wouldn’t be forced to tell her the truth, and she could go on pretending this was all real and that he really did care about her. “I’ve just got a little headache, that’s all.”
His brow furrowed. “Ah, hell, why didn’t you say something? I could have found you some aspirin or ibuprofen.”
This was the kind of thing that fed right into her insecurities. Why did he act so attentive, like he really cared? Because he really did care about her, or because he acted that way with everyone, because he was genuinely a nice guy?
“It’s all right. But I think I should probably head home. I didn’t bring any clothes for work, and I’ve got to be to the school early in the morning for a faculty meeting. It’ll probably be easier for me to get there on time if I’m in town.”
“Yeah, sure, that makes sense.”
Wow. Her stomach turned at the ease with which he gave in. He didn’t even try to convince her to stay. She tried to read his expression, but he’d already turned away. Her shoulders sagged as she made her way down the hall toward his bedroom. “I’ll just get my things together.”
“Okay. I’ll pack up the cat’s stuff.”
“You don’t have to. I can do it,” she said from the bedroom.
As if she knew he was talking about her, Agatha crept out of Colt’s closet and sauntered toward her. Chloe was so frustrated by his silence, and maybe a little disappointed that he hadn’t fought harder for her to stay, that a horrible part of her secretly hoped the cat had yakked in one of his shoes.
What is wrong with me? She didn’t usually wish cat yak on anyone. Everything about her was out of sorts—like her whole rhythm was off-kilter. She knew what was wrong—her heart was breaking. And she felt like an idiot. Spending the day with his family, with this group of people who were so self-assured, so easy in their own skin, and so loving and supportive of each other only reminded her of how alone and screwed up she was. She didn’t know how to handle, how to be around all of them. And she didn’t know how to manage the wild extreme of feelings that had been rocketing through her the last week.
She didn’t do impulsive, didn’t throw things in a bag to spend a weekend with a hot guy. For that matter, she didn’t spend weekends with hot guys at all. But the last few days, she’d thrown caution to the wind, let the chips fall, and every other cliché that basically equaled the fact that she’d done her best to act brave and let her defenses down, and this is what she got.
Leaving now was the best thing, before she sank any deeper into the idea that a future existed for her with a guy like Colton James. She needed to get home and get back into her routines. That’s what made her feel strong, where she drew her confidence, in her schedules and making sure all the pieces in her life went exactly so. She understood order and routine. When she could control those, she felt more in control of everything.
The cat weaved back and forth between her legs and let out a soft mewl of affection. The show of unconditional love almost did her
in, and she sank onto the bed as tears burned the back of her eyes. She pressed her palm against her mouth to keep Colt from hearing her cry.
They hadn’t made the bed that morning; she’d tried, but Colt had made her leave it. The rumpled sheets only served to remind her of the amazing weekend they’d shared and what a fool she’d been to believe it was anything more than purely physical. She ran her hand across the soft cotton, whispers of their lovemaking sighing up from the fabric.
You’ve always known you weren’t good enough, her dad’s voice whispered bitterly into her ear. Her fingers closed, her nails digging into her palm as she twisted a handful of the sheets tightly between them.
Enough. Stop bawling and go home.
Chloe swiped the stray tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand, then pushed up from the bed and collected her things. At the last second, she dropped her bag and quickly made the bed. She couldn’t help herself.
She’d thought the smoothed comforter and perfectly plumped pillows would help her to breathe a little easier. Instead, they shot a tortured ache through her heart, as if her time there with Colt had now been erased, as if Colt’s room had been set back to normal and any traces of her and their weekend together had been dispelled.
Chapter 17
Colt was in the kitchen washing the cat’s food and water bowls as she came out of the bedroom. She set her bag on the sofa next to her purse. “I’ll finish this,” she told him.
It only took a few minutes to finish cleaning up and crating the cat. Agatha yowled her protest, telling her in cat terms that Chloe wasn’t the only one who was unhappy about leaving the cozy cabin. Despite her cool attitude, the cat had seemed at home at Colt’s, stretching out on the warm stones of the fireplace and lounging in the patches of sunlight that came through the big windows in the living room.