by Stacy Finz
Delaney hadn’t heard him come in. “Which one do you want to be?” she asked lamely, afraid that he would see what his mere presence did to her.
He shrugged.
“The Colten Cargo,” TJ offered. “The Win Windbreaker. The Josh Jams.”
“The TJ Gives Me a Rash ... Guard,” Colt finished, and TJ threw a Nerf ball at him. He had a collection of them and a dart gun on his desk.
“You guys are good,” she said, flustered by Colt’s sudden appearance. She hadn’t seen him since Sunday night, not since they’d had their so-called heart-to-heart and she’d delivered her conditions. He could’ve been busy—not a stretch given his intense work schedule—or he could’ve been avoiding her. With Colt she never knew. But she had missed him.
“I’ll get out of your hair now. I’ll be back tomorrow with a few more samples for you to test.” She gathered up her purse and portfolio.
“I’ll walk you out.” Colt took the large leather case from her. When they got outside he asked, “Did you come on foot or drive?”
She pointed to her car, which she’d parked on Main Street, a few doors down from Glorious Gifts, and rummaged through her handbag for the keys.
“You have lunch yet?”
“No. Why, you want to get something?”
“The diner or Old Glory?”
“Whichever you want.” She didn’t know how much time he got for lunch. He was in his uniform, so she assumed he was on duty.
“The diner’s good.”
They unloaded her portfolio first in the trunk of the Tesla, then walked to the Morning Glory. Deb was waitressing and got them a quiet booth in the back and rushed off to help someone else.
“I guess the summer crowds are gone,” Delaney observed. The restaurant was almost deserted.
“September. Everyone goes back to school. But as soon as we get our first dump of snow they’ll be back.”
“You been busy?” She tried to make it sound casual.
“Yeah. There’ve been a couple of burglaries. Vacation homes up near the resorts.”
“Oh no.” Glory Junction had a relatively low crime rate, but like any other place, bad things happened. “You catch the culprits?”
“We’re working on it. I can’t get into it, but it’s kept me busy the last few nights.” He glanced across the table at her and she wondered if he was trying to tell her that was why he hadn’t come calling. She’d left it up to him.
“I hope you catch whoever did it.” She leaned closer and asked in a soft voice, “Anything new with the mayor?”
“Nope.” His gaze ran over her, lingering on her low-cut top, male appreciation gleaming in his eyes. “I thought we should clear the air . . . you know, after last week.”
“Okay.” Delaney waited for him to say more but her cell rang and she pulled it out of her purse to look at the display. Her lawyer. “I have to get this.”
She walked outside and leaned against the diner’s exterior wall to take the call. “Do you have bad news for me?”
“Robert’s attorneys filed a request for a clarification from the court. We could hear something anytime and I wanted you to be prepared.”
“What if the judge says that I have to take the Delaney Scott label off my existing merchandise? How do we handle that?”
“We could appeal,” Liz said. “But that could cost as much money as removing the name.”
Delaney doubted it. Not only would removing the labels be a major expense but the items wouldn’t be worth much without them. The best she could hope for was selling them to an off-price store.
“Let’s wait for the clarification before we come up with a game plan,” Liz said. “I still think we were right all along.”
Delaney desperately hoped so.
Another call came in and Delaney checked the ID. “Liz, my real estate agent is on the other line. Let me know if you hear anything.” She quickly clicked over before she lost the call. “Hello.”
“We’ve got an offer,” the agent trilled in a singsong voice.
“A good one?” If the judge’s clarification was in Robert’s favor, the proceeds from her house would be a godsend.
“An excellent one. I’m sending you an e-mail with the offer attached. Take a look and call me back. We have forty-eight hours to counter.”
“Okay,” Delaney said, a bit overwhelmed. She hadn’t expected a house listed at four million dollars to have buyers this fast.
She went back in the restaurant. “I just got an offer on my house. And my lawyer called to tell me that Robert’s legal team asked for a clarification from the judge on whether I can sell existing merchandise under the Delaney Scott label.”
“What happened?”
“The judge hasn’t responded yet.”
“Is the house offer a good one?” he asked.
“I haven’t seen it yet.” She scrolled through the phone to see if her agent’s e-mail had come through yet. For some reason she felt funny about Colt knowing the price, even though anyone trolling Beverly Hills real estate listings could find it. It was just so excessive to the point of being vulgar. At least to someone who had come from her humble beginnings. “Here it is.”
Deb came to take their orders and she waited to pull up the attachment. Colt ordered a roast beef sandwich and potato salad. She got the Cobb. Customers started to filter in and Deb took off to seat them.
“Well?” Colt asked, craning his neck to see the e-mail on her phone.
She tapped on the document icon and breezed through the fine print until she got to the offer price. “It’s pretty close to what I was asking.” Delaney would let her agent advise her on whether to counter with something higher, but if the buyer wouldn’t come up, she’d take it.
“Good,” Colt said, leaning back against the pleather bench. “You gonna go back to LA to buy something else?”
“Eventually. Right now, I want to launch the outdoor line with your family’s company. I’m excited about it.” She hadn’t been this enthusiastic about a line in a long time. Adventure wear—who would’ve ever thought such a thing would appeal to her high-fashion sensibility? But the challenge of making rugged, functional clothing beautiful filled her with excitement, as did the man sitting across from her.
He was looking at her. A look so sexy, it charged through her like a jolt of electricity. “Then I suppose we’ll be working together.”
“Why? You thinking of taking over the retail end of the family business?” She didn’t see it. Colt had many facets—adventurer, crime solver, musician—but being buried in profit-and-loss statements wasn’t one of them.
“You never know.” He hitched his shoulders, his gaze darting to her lips.
She assumed Colt was alluding to his problems with the mayor but was having trouble concentrating with him looking at her the way he was.
“You want to go out tonight if I get out early enough?” he asked.
“What are we doing, Colt?” Did he not remember their last conversation?
“Yeah.” He scrubbed his hand through his hair and turned somber. “I can’t stop thinking about you and I’m tired of fighting it ... have been for a while. As long as you’re living next door, I don’t have the resolve to overcome my attraction to you.” He waited a beat and continued, “Permanently, though? We’re not gonna work, you know that?”
“Not all women are like Lisa,” she said in a soft voice. “We’ve been over this.”
“Too many similarities.”
“That’s offensive. I would never intentionally hurt someone. And I certainly wouldn’t steal their work from them.”
“That’s not what I meant. We want different things out of life. I have no interest in fame or fortune, just want to serve my community.”
“You make me out to be shallow when there’s nothing wrong with wanting success.” She’d dreamed of being a famous designer since making her first Vogue McCall dress on her mother’s Singer. “You are trying to pass your trust issues off as reverse snobber
y. It’s not working.”
He snorted. “Baby, if you say so. You’re the one moving away. But if you want to try, I’ll try. I just ask that we keep any relationship between us quiet. No telling Hannah, my brothers, not anyone, not even when it’s over.”
Deb came with their order. “One beef-on-wreck and a Cobb,” she said, placing the plates down on the table.
The interruption gave Delaney time to think about Colt’s parameters. After her spectacular breakup with Robert, Delaney didn’t need to advertise her love life any more than Colt did.
Felix came out of the kitchen and beckoned Deb, who dashed over to do his bidding.
“If that’s the way you want to handle it.”
“Yep.” He nodded with conviction.
Fine with her. It was just a fling, after all. A fling with an expiration date because he’d already decided that once she left they were doomed. Honestly, he was probably right. Relationships even under the best circumstances were difficult. Just look at her and Robert. “Okay,” she said.
He scanned the restaurant, presumably to make sure no one could hear them. “You want to go to Tahoe tonight?” Thirty miles from Glory Junction, the likelihood of running into any of their friends there was next to nil.
“All right,” she said. “Sounds fun.”
Colt got a call from dispatch—a car accident on the outskirts of town—paid their bill, and took the rest of his sandwich to go. She finished her salad, said good-bye to Deb, and drove to the seamstress to get the rest of her samples. The whole way there she thought about her and Colt’s date and how his arrival in her life had been so unexpected. Just like the adventure wear she was now designing.
The fabrics she’d chosen for the sports clothes were gorgeous. Forest green florals, winter white checks, electric blue with geometric designs, metallic silver, and pastel paisley. Nothing too loud, but definitely a swish of flair in an otherwise banal market.
She took the garments home to press and spent much of the afternoon preparing for her date with Colt, including applying a beauty mask, taking a long bath, and pawing through her lingerie drawers for maximum frill factor.
At six he called to say he was running late. At seven she heard his police car come up the easement road and watched for him through the window. He went home first. Delaney presumed he wanted to shower and change. Forty-five minutes later, he knocked at her door.
She opened and said, “Hey” when what she should’ve said was wow! He’d put on a crisp white Oxford, a pair of jeans, and cowboy boots, nothing designer, but on him the clothes could’ve been Ralph Lauren or Ryan Michael.
“Sorry I’m late.”
“Was the accident bad?”
He snaked his arm around her waist, pulled her against him, and went in for a kiss. Losing her balance, she grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his hard chest pressed against her breasts. She took a second to luxuriate in his brawn and sniff his neck, which smelled like aftershave and something distinctly Colt. Despite all his misgivings and rules, he felt inordinately safe. Like no matter what, he had her. She never remembered feeling safe with Robert. Mostly judged, like she constantly had to prove herself.
“What’s this for?” she whispered as he devoured her mouth.
“You look hot and I’ve been wanting you for days.”
And here, in the privacy of her home, no one was watching. It didn’t bother her, she told herself. Who cared if they weren’t out in the open? Discretion was good.
“Thank you, so do you.” She closed her eyes and let the kiss take her away for a while, getting more and more aroused. “Are we skipping the date part of the program?”
“Nah.” He pulled away but she could tell it was a Herculean effort. “I promised to take you to Tahoe; I don’t renege on my promises. Not even for sex.” He flashed a crooked smile that never failed to turn her inside out.
She considered forgetting dinner and leading him upstairs but wasn’t quite comfortable being the aggressor, which she knew men enjoyed but could never bring herself to do.
“I’ll grab my purse.”
“And a jacket. It’s getting cooler at night.”
She found a cashmere wrap in the coat closet and followed him outside.
He eyed her silver Delaney Scott stilettos. “Wait here while I get my truck.”
“We can take your police car,” she said, kind of liking the idea of fooling around in the backseat of a squad vehicle.
“Against policy.” He hopped over her deck railing and climbed the driveway to the garage.
A few minutes later, he drove down the hill and jumped out of the cab to help her in, intentionally grazing her butt with his hand. At this rate, they wouldn’t get through a meal. She wanted him. Bad.
He got on the road, turned at the on-ramp to the highway, and headed east. Not for the first time she noted what an excellent driver he was, taking the curves as smoothly as she drove a straight shot on the interstate. He had one hand on her leg while he steered with the other. Ordinarily that would’ve made her nervous on a dark road. Not with Colt. She wondered if he’d learned his driving skills in the police academy.
“You okay?” he asked as they headed further up the mountain.
“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?”
“You seem quiet.” He moved his palm higher on her thigh.
“Just enjoying the drive.” She put the back of her hand on the passenger-side window. “You were right, it’s getting chilly.”
“September is usually a nice month in the Sierra, but the temperature drops in the evenings. You want me to turn on the heat?”
“I’ve got the wrap.” Her dress was a sleeveless sheath that matched her shoes. Clingy knit fabric better suited for a warm summer night.
He slid her a sideways glance, which heated at the sight of her. “You have a busy rest of your day?”
“I got the pieces for Garner Adventure from the seamstress and countered on the offer.”
“What did the buyers say?”
“Nothing yet. They have twenty-four hours to respond. My agent thinks they’ll take it.”
He got quiet, mulling over what she’d just told him. “I guess that’s good, right? You’ll miss ski season, though.”
She couldn’t tell if he was being flip or a good sport about her eventual departure. “I don’t ski, so that won’t be a problem.”
He shook his head. “I still don’t get that. You live in one of the best ski towns in America.”
“I like drinking hot toddies in the lodge. Does that count?”
“No.” He said it like he still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that she didn’t ski. “If you’re still around when we get our first snow I’ll take you out for a lesson.”
“All right, but you have to promise to be gentle. I’m not the most athletic . . . or adventurous.”
“You had game when we went kayaking.” His hand slipped under the hem of her dress and the skin-to-skin contact made her wet.
“I’ve always liked the water. Ice and snow, not my favorite.”
He surprised her by pulling through the circular driveway of the Ritz-Carlton.
“We’re going to the restaurant here?”
“Yeah. That okay?”
Extravagant and not at all what she’d been expecting. “Wonderful. But do you have a reservation?”
He fixed her with a look and left the truck with the valet before escorting her inside. The maître d’ asked for their name and led them to a table. Colt glanced around the room as he pulled out her chair. She wondered if he wanted to make sure no one there knew them or was just taking in the dining room.
They sat and Colt perused the menu. “Wine?”
“Yes, please.”
“Don’t get drunk,” he teased. “I have plans for later.”
“And what might those be?” She liked this playful side of him.
Before he could answer, a waiter came over and Colt ordered a pricey bottle of Hanzell Vineyards chardonnay. Fo
r a man who preferred beer, he knew his wines.
“You like white, right?”
“I like that white in particular,” she said.
“Good.” He reached across the table and laced his fingers through hers. “Nice dress. One of yours, I presume.” When she nodded he asked, “Do you have lacey things under it?”
“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” He’d reduced her to a silly fifteen-year-old. That’s for me to know and for you to find out. She wanted to roll her eyes at herself.
He cocked his brows. “Baby, I’m looking forward to it.”
The sommelier came with the wine and started to give a dissertation on it. Colt listened politely but Delaney could tell he was in a rush for the steward to leave. Afterward, the waiter took their orders.
Coq au vin, she told the server because it was the first thing on the menu and she couldn’t concentrate. Colt had taken his hand away to order and she wanted it back. When the waiter finally left, he slipped his palm under the table and played with her leg. Careful. If his fingers slid any higher, he’d give her a spontaneous orgasm.
“Colt?”
“Hmm?” His lips slid up.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“That first time was like crack.”
Yet, he’d run off like a scared little rabbit and then had gone five days without contacting her. “For a guy who’s supposedly addicted to me, you’ve been missing in action.”
Colt’s expression turned pensive. “I had to do some serious thinking about this . . . about us.” He took another visual lap around the room. Delaney thought he was nervous that someone would see them together.
“What changed your mind?”
“The fact that you told me I was being a dick, that I needed to make up my mind. And the truth: I can’t seem to stay away. I think it probably started nine months ago, when you and I began fighting over parking. Usually I don’t get involved in petty shit like that.”
“But?”
“I enjoyed butting heads with you.” He grinned. “I kinda became that mean boy in school who’s attracted to a girl and doesn’t want to admit it. Not even to myself. But I want to keep it light, Delaney, if that’s okay with you?”