by Jennie Marts
He seemed like a good man, and the idea that Tina and the kids would have the cop as their friend, or maybe more, filled Chloe’s heart with joy and put her mind at ease. He could do a lot more to protect them than their neighbor who had just used a lighter to fight off a maniac.
She shook her head, still astonished at that fact. And a little embarrassed as she relayed what had happened to Mike when she gave her statement.
Colt put his arm around her shoulders. “I think she’s had enough,” he told the officer. “I’m taking her home. If you need something more, she can come down to the station tomorrow.”
He led her to the car, easing her into the passenger seat, then driving them back to her house. They didn’t talk on the short drive, but she noticed his hands weren’t quite steady as he held the steering wheel.
They pulled into the garage, and this time the door shut behind them without incident. Exhaustion overtook her as the shock and adrenaline started to wear off. Her eyes and skin still burned from the pepper spray, but it seemed to have dissipated from the air.
As they walked through the garage and into the kitchen, Chloe tried to figure out what she was going to say, rehearsing different scripts in her head. She wanted to fight for him, to tell him how she felt, but now that he was here, all six-foot massive something of him, her words seemed to have escaped her.
Just say how I feel. Be honest. Start with that.
He hit the switch to turn on the kitchen light, and she turned to face him, ready to tell him how much she cared about him. But words failed her as she took in the smeared blood surrounding a cut above his eyebrow and the purple bruise around his eye.
“Oh my gosh, you’re bleeding. What happened? Did Rank hit you?” She thought back to him pulling the other man from the car but couldn’t remember Rank getting off a single hit aimed at Colt.
He raised his hand and gently touched his cheek. “Nah. I think I hit my head on the steering wheel.”
“On the steering wheel?” She’d already moved to the sink and was wetting a clean blue washcloth with warm water. “What happened?” She pulled out a kitchen chair and pushed him into it, then raised the cloth to his face.
He pulled his head back. “It’s nothing. A little cut and a minor goose egg. I had the EMT give it a quick look when you were talking to Mike, and I’m fine. It’s no big deal, and I don’t want you to get blood on your nice washcloth.”
“I don’t care about the washcloth.” And she surprisingly didn’t. I care about you, she thought as she dabbed at the blood on his forehead and tried to clean the wound.
He winced, but didn’t draw his head away this time. “I put my truck in a ditch and must have hit my head when I slammed into a couple of trees.”
“You were in an accident?”
“Not much of one. I was trying to turn around and hit a patch of black ice and slid off the road. Thank God the truck didn’t roll. But I might have passed out when I whacked my head. I remember coming to, then climbing up the embankment, and I just started walking until I hailed down a passing truck. It was a stroke of luck that it was Guy, a buddy of mine, who happened to be plowing that particular stretch of road. He gave me a ride back to town.”
Chloe’s hand stilled in the middle of his story. Her mouth had gone dry, but she was afraid to hope for his answer. “Why were you turning around?”
He lifted his hand and set it on top of hers. “To come back to you.”
She caught her breath as he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. “Me? Or the team?”
“Both. I was trying to get back for the game, but my main focus was getting back to you. I had some stuff to tell you, and when I realized I’d missed the game, I had Guy bring me here.”
“What kind of stuff?” she whispered.
“Stuff like I’m an idiot and a fool. I’m sorry for what I said and how I treated you.” He reached up and tenderly touched her face. “I really care about you but was afraid to tell you because I thought I would scare you off.”
“I was scared.” She set the washcloth on the kitchen table, then turned to look into his eyes. She swallowed. “I was terrified. Not from imagining you cared about me, but from knowing with all certainty that you couldn’t possibly like someone like me.”
“Someone like you?” His brow furrowed. “You mean someone smart and beautiful, and one of the kindest, most thoughtful people of anyone I know. Someone who is funny and sweet and sexy as hell?”
She shook her head. “No, someone like me who is a shy introvert and a control freak who alphabetizes her spice rack. Someone who had mousy-brown hair and leads a dull and uninteresting life. I’m an ordinary schoolteacher who spends her spare time reading, watching British dramas on PBS, and knitting. How could that possibly interest someone like you, a man who is handsome and charming and has muscles where I didn’t even know muscles existed?”
He chuckled and shook his head. But before he could respond, she touched her finger to his lips. “I was raised to believe I was nothing, an insignificant speck who wasn’t even wanted by her own mother. I had this small existence that included my students and fixing up my little house and buying matching blue accessories for my kitchen.”
“Aqua,” he said against her finger.
A small smile tugged at her mouth, but tears of shame burned her eyes. “Yes, aqua. I had convinced myself I was happy—that aqua measuring spoons and perfectly knitted rows of yarn could equal a contented life. But then you came along, and you smiled and touched my hand and made me cupcakes. You laughed with me and seemed to like my cat.”
“I do like your cat.”
“I know. But it was more than that. So much more. You kissed me and said such sweet words, and you opened my eyes to what happiness could be. When we were together, I felt like a different woman. Then you would drop me off for work or go home to the ranch, and I would lapse back into my insecurities. My emotions were all over the place, and I was terrified of all these big feelings I had for you. They took over my every waking thought, and I was feeling smothered by my doubts and fears and by the sheer enormity of how much I was feeling and how utterly petrified I was that you weren’t feeling the same way.”
“But I was feeling the same way. How could you not tell? I came over every day. I asked you to coach the team with me. I fixed your door. I brought you to Sunday dinner at my mom’s house.”
“I thought you were just being nice. I thought you just wanted to be friends.”
His eyes widened. “At what point could you possibly think that? Did you think I just wanted to be friends when I carried you naked into my bed? Or how about when I stripped off your clothes and soaped you up in the shower? Or maybe when I did that thing to you in front of the fireplace? Or was it when I wanted you so badly that I tore off your panties and took you on the counter of your aqua kitchen?”
Heat warmed her cheeks—from both embarrassment and the sudden heat that coiled between her legs as he talked about wanting her and stripping off her clothes. “That was all great—amazing. All that was mind-blowingly incredible. For me. But I didn’t know what it meant for you. I don’t have a lot of experience with that stuff. I didn’t know if that was just sex or if that’s how you were with everyone.” She lowered her eyes, unable to face him. “I thought maybe you were just being nice to me—you know, doing me a favor, like you do for everyone else—because you felt sorry for me.”
“Doing you a favor? Are you kidding me? A favor is shoveling the snow from your walk or passing you the salt. It’s not spending hours in bed with you, exploring your body and looking for ways to get you to make that sexy sighing sound you do when I touch you just right.”
She ducked her head, feeling the heat in her cheeks but also secretly pleased at his words.
“Where did you even get these ideas?” he asked, shaking his head.
“From you. And Log
an. That day at your mom’s house. When he was teasing you about Tina. He said you were into saving wounded women, and you said you didn’t need another person to save. Like I was already enough.”
He scrubbed a hand across his face and let out a sigh. “I wasn’t talking about you. I was talking about how much work it was taking to try to save myself. And I have never seen you as a wounded sparrow, so it never crossed my mind to try to save you. When all that stuff happened with Rank, I wanted to protect you, but that’s not the same as saving you—not the way you’re saying it. I never believed you weren’t strong enough or capable enough to take care of yourself.”
He lifted her chin until he could see her eyes. “I felt bad for what happened to you and angry at your father for the way he treated you, but I have never once felt sorry for you or pitied you or thought I was saving you. And I sure as hell didn’t kiss you, or do any of the other things I did to you, out of pity or as some sort of charity. I did them because I liked you, and I wanted you so bad I couldn’t take another minute of not being able to get my hands on you.”
His bold statements were like balm to her wounded soul. And she wanted to believe him—wanted to trust everything he said. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because I was an idiot, and I was afraid. And I wasn’t sure how you felt about me. Especially after I saw you dancing with Huge at The Creed. You looked like you were having so much fun. And I was so jealous, I wanted to punch the guy in the throat.”
“I wasn’t having fun. I was just trying to prove something to Quinn and Tess. And I tried to apologize for that—tried to talk to you that night, but I couldn’t.”
“Obviously not. You didn’t seem like you wanted to talk.”
“I did.”
“Then why did you leave?”
“Because your ex-girlfriend, Ashley, showed up, and all I could think about was how she was your first love and how you’d told me you screwed up when you lost her. And now she was going to be back in town, and I figured you’d want a second chance with her. She seems like such a perfect fit for you—she’s pretty and so much better suited for you than me.”
He shook his head. “What in the Sam Hill are you talking about? Why would I ever want Ashley back? She left me the summer we graduated—ran off with a carny who’d been in town for two weeks working the carnival at the county fair. She took off with him, and I didn’t see or hear from her for years. We only just started speaking again a few years ago. Why the hell would that make her a good fit for me?”
Chloe winced. “Why are you getting angry at me?”
He sighed. “I’m not angry at you. It just pisses me off to think about that time and reminds me what a tool I had to have been to make a carny seem like a better choice than me.”
“Well, I don’t even like carnivals. I detest cotton candy, wouldn’t eat a corn dog on a bet, and just the thought of the Tilt-A-Whirl makes me want to barf.”
He chuckled. “Good. That somehow does make me feel better. But I still can’t imagine how you could possibly think I would want Ashley over you.”
“She seemed perfect for you.”
He brushed her bangs from her forehead, and the light touch of his fingers sent a dart of heat down her spine. “You’re perfect for me. You’re kind and thoughtful, and you make me want to be a better man. I’ve been falling for you since the first time I met you. But I couldn’t tell you, because I was afraid if I said it out loud, the curse would kick in, and I would lose you. So, I tried to show you how much I cared about you. I tried to show you every time I kissed you, every time I touched you. I tried to show you by doing things for you, but I kept getting them wrong, like when you were upset the other day when I picked you up from school and then you got so angry about the garage.”
“I’m sorry about the garage. I was upset about what I’d overheard the other teachers saying about me, and I overreacted. That was more about my issues and things that happened with my dad, and me using the act of getting rid of those boxes as a way to break free from the control he still had over me. But I know now that getting rid of all that stupid stuff wasn’t the key to my freedom. It was all the risks I was taking with you, all the times that I took a bold step out of my box, that I tried something new, challenged myself to try something different, be someone different—those things were what truly set me free.
“And I really do love what you did in the garage. It was thoughtful, and I know it must have been a lot of work. I do appreciate it, and I was going to apologize and tell you that when I saw you at the game tonight.” A sudden thought struck her. “You said you turned around on the road, so what happened to the interview?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t go. I called the coach and told him I couldn’t bail on my team.”
“But, that job sounded like a dream—like you would finally get your chance to be with the NHL. I know you dreamed of being a player, but this would still let you be part of the game.”
He rubbed a hand up her back. “Funny you should say that. I was talking to Jesse last night. I gave him a ride home, and we were talking about life and relationships and getting in the game. That’s what made me turn around tonight. I realized I’d been sitting on the sidelines, so sure I was going to lose, that I was afraid to even get in the game. But that’s not what I want.
“I’m tired of being afraid—tired of letting this fictional curse rule my life. So much of what’s happened to me has been my own fault, like I’m my own worst enemy. But I don’t want to live like that anymore. I don’t want to get in the way of my own chance at having something real.”
She nodded. “I get it. I feel the same way. I think I was pushing you away before you had a chance to hurt me.”
He lifted his hands to her cheeks, holding them on either side of her face. “How about we stop pushing each other away? Can we do that?”
“Yes,” she whispered. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she couldn’t tear her eyes from his.
Still holding her face, he dropped his gaze to her mouth and grazed her bottom lip with his thumb. He took a deep shuddering breath. “So here goes. I’m stepping into the game, darlin’, and telling you flat-out I’m in love with you. I love your smile and the way you hug my dog. I love the way you treat people and the way you take care of everyone else’s kids. I love the way you touch the side of my hand with your pinkie, and I love the way you gnaw your bottom lip when you’re thinking really hard. I don’t care that you have to alphabetize your books or color-code your kitchen. I don’t care that you have to check the locks three times every night, or that you can’t swear to save your life. I want to protect you, to keep you safe, to ease your mind, and to make you laugh. I want to kiss you and touch you and hold you when you’re scared. I know I keep talking, but I really just want to say one thing. I love you, Chloe. That’s all.”
“That’s enough.” Tears welled in her eyes. He’d taken the first step, skated into the rink, and passed her the puck. Now it was her turn, and she was taking a shot at the goal. “I love you too.”
His lips curved into a grin, and he leaned forward and kissed her. Tenderly at first, but then he deepened the kiss as he picked her up and carried her to her room.
Score.
Chapter 24
Chloe staggered into the kitchen the next morning, drawn by the scent of bacon and in dire need of coffee. What she found gave her more energy than any shot of caffeine. A hot cowboy was standing at the stove dishing her up a plate of scrambled eggs.
“Good morning, beautiful,” Colt said, leaning down to give her a kiss before handing her the plate.
She grinned. “Yes, it is. Especially since the district gave us a rare snow day. So, it’s a good morning and was an excellent night.” She scooped a bite into her mouth and groaned at the delicious flavor of eggs, bacon, and cheese.
He passed her a cup of coffee. “Just the way you like it,
two exact teaspoons of sugar and a full tablespoon of cream.”
She put her plate on the table and took a sip. “Perfect. Just like you.” Setting the cup on the kitchen counter, she reached up and pulled his face down to press a kiss to his lips.
As he deepened the kiss, he bent his knees and slid his arms down her back, over the rounded curve of her rear, then lifted her up and set her on the counter next to her cup. Heat bloomed along her spine as she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him to her as she ran her fingers through his thick hair.
A low growl sounded in the back of his throat as he slid his hand under the hem of her jersey and up her thigh.
Oh boy. This was shaping up to be a really good morning. She arched into him, anticipating his touch, but was interrupted as his phone buzzed on the counter. She swallowed, her mouth dry as he pulled his hand free of her jersey and reached for the phone.
He peered at the screen, and narrowed his eyes as he held it up for her to see. The display read “Joe Forsberg.” He answered and put the phone to his ear. “Hello, this is Colt.”
Her head was still so close to his, she could hear the booming voice of the coach.
“Hey, Colt, this is Coach Forsberg. Sorry to call so early, but I wanted to talk to you about last night.”
“Yes, sir. I’m sure you do. I’d like to apologize again for not showing up. I really appreciated the offer, but I couldn’t let my team down.”
“That’s what I’m calling about. It takes a lot of guts to turn down an opportunity like this one for a bunch of kids.”
“Beggin’ your pardon, sir, but they’re not just a bunch of kids to me. They’re my team.”
“I understand. And that’s why I wanted to call you. To tell you the job is yours, if you still want it.”