by Holly Rayner
“What would you like?” he asked. He had to shout to be heard over the buzz of the crowd and the booming music.
She leaned into him and spoke close to his ear, loudly, in order to be heard. “I guess I’ll stick with whiskey,” she said. “Since that seems to be the theme of the evening.”
“I’ll see what they have,” Colt promised with a friendly wink. “I won’t get you one that’ll make you regret it, like back in your college days.”
She grinned, flattered that he’d remembered her small off-handed comment from earlier.
As he threaded his way through the tight-packed throng of people around the bar, she thought about how lucky she’d been to meet him. She watched women in the vicinity ogle him, and she felt a sense of satisfaction when Colt ignored their come-hither glances.
When he returned with two drinks in hand, he gave her a grin. “Well, it’s clear that it’s the rodeo’s opening night. This place isn’t usually so crowded. Come on—let’s see if there’s a seat in the back.” He handed her one of the drinks and beckoned for her to follow him. At the very back of the bar, one two-top table was open. Marissa climbed up onto one of the stools, and Colt perched on the other.
She sipped her drink and felt the fluttering sensation of her nervousness blossoming to life again. Though she’d just walked a block under Colt’s strong arm, it was different sitting across from him. Walking in the darkness felt natural—as she matched her stride to his and felt the strong girth of his fingers between hers, she’d felt no pressure to speak. Now, separated from him by the table and under the sparkling lights of the bar, she felt the need to carry a conversation. The problem was, it was hard to speak. She felt completely and utterly starstruck by Colt’s good looks. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he was a famous country singer or actor of some sort. He was almost painfully good-looking.
She averted her gaze from him and instead looked down at her drink. She moved the little red stir-straw in a few quick circles, mixing the liquid around with the ice.
“This feels like a first date all of a sudden, doesn’t it?” Colt said. The words stretched with humor, as though there was a laugh hidden just behind them.
She looked up at him. “A little bit,” she said. “I guess I’m not very good at the whole small-talk, getting-to-know-you thing. I never have been.”
“Me either,” he said. “So, let’s just skip it.”
This made her laugh. As the giggle erupted from deep within, she instantly felt more at ease. “How does that work?” she asked.
She eyed him as she lifted her drink and finally took a sip. It was delicious—some kind of bourbon mixed with soda water, by the taste of it.
He chuckled, too. “It works just like it sounds like it works,” he said. “We just skip the small talk completely. We pretend that I already know what you do for work, which is…” he paused.
“Teach kids,” she supplied.
“And that you live in…”
“Kansas,” she said.
“And that you have two cats and a vegetable garden,” he joked.
“A goldfish,” she said with a chuckle. “And no vegetable garden—but I do grow mums and roses.”
He laughed. “There. See? We skip right over it, and instead pretend we’ve known each other for years.”
It felt natural to laugh now, and Marissa did so happily. “It does feel a little bit that way,” she said. “I have to admit, I’ve never connected with someone like this so instantly. You’re really easy to talk to.”
He didn’t speak, and for a moment she wondered if she’d overstepped some kind of boundary. Maybe she’d been too forward.
He spoke, washing away her concerns. “You know what? Not many people say that about me. But there’s something about you that I just… I don’t know, I just understand it.”
She nodded. She felt the same thing about Colt.
After a beat, she said, “If we skip over the small talk, I might never find out that you’re actually a famous…” she paused, waiting for him to fill in the blank.
He did not. Instead, his eyes sparkled, as he caught on to her game and dared her to hazard a guess.
“Rockstar,” she said, after a prolonged silence.
He tilted his head back and smiled. “Nope,” he said.
“Action movie star,” she said.
He shook his head.
“Race car driver.”
He chuckled some more and shook his head again.
“Football player?”
For the third time, he shook his head.
As he took a swallow of his drink, she said, “I swear, I’ve seen your face somewhere before.”
“You may have,” he said easily, “you just may have.”
He left it at that, and she decided not to press him. Instead she said, “Since we’re skipping over the small talk, we won’t talk about your house in…”
“Penthouse,” he said. “Here in Austin.”
“Right,” she said. “And we definitely won’t talk about your horse… named Hank.”
This made him tilt his head back again. “Oh, you’re good!” he said. “I do have a horse. But his name is Cassidy. I call him Cass.”
She laughed. “Hank, Cass… I think that was pretty darn close.”
He eyed her with appreciation. “You’re perceptive, you know that? Have you always been like that?”
“I just get feelings,” she answered. “Plus, it really helps when working with six-year-olds. How did you know that I had a garden?”
“You seem like the type,” he said. “Sweet, nurturing… kind of grounded in a way that I don’t find around here in the city very often.”
They drank in silence for a minute, and a heady buzz whirled through Marissa, thanks to the stiff drink in her hand. She didn’t drink that often, and the alcohol affected her almost instantly.
“Seeing as we’re going to proceed as though we’ve known each other for years… can I ask you something?” she said.
“Anything,” he said.
She leaned forward in her seat a little and narrowed her eyes. “How is it that you’re not married? With two kids, a house, and a white picket fence? You’ve got to be in your thirties… All my friends that I grew up with back in the Midwest followed the same path: school, career, marriage, house, two kids, and a dog. You know the drill.”
“Well, I’ve got the pet part covered at least,” he joked. “But Cass is a horse, not a dog.”
She smiled. “I’m serious, Colt,” she said.
He leaned forward, too. “I am in my thirties—just celebrated thirty-six about three weeks ago.”
“Happy birthday,” she said.
He nodded. “Thank you,” he said. “And as for the rest, I guess I’ve never been one to follow along with the crowds. Seemed to me like everyone I grew up with was on one path, and I was on the other. Then, in college, that got even more pronounced. I went through something that changed me in a profound way, and…”
His expression turned thoughtful, and for a moment, Marissa thought she saw the sparkling light in his eyes dim, just briefly. But then it came back, and he continued. “I just never got over that. I don’t bother with following the norms. I do my own thing, and I don’t worry about the rest. When I meet the right woman, I’ll know.”
The air felt charged between them as his eyes searched hers.
Marissa felt her breath catch in her throat. A crazy thought overcame her: Am I that woman?
It seemed so bizarre that she pushed it aside. Instead, she picked up her drink and turned slightly to look out over the crowd as she sipped. The liquid was almost gone; ice clinked against her glass in the silence between songs. A new tune amped up, and soon, the bass was thudding in her ears again.
“Same…” she said, trying to sound casual and not at all insane. “I’ve been to so many weddings and baby showers over the past decade, I swear it almost drove me to bankruptcy—and I work full-time. But I’m intent on waiting for the
right guy. I refuse to rush into a relationship just because I’m ready to settle down. There has to be chemistry.”
She set her empty glass on the table. A cocktail waitress passed by them, and Colt held up two fingers. Soon, the waitress returned with two more drinks.
“How long are you in town for?” Colt asked.
“A whole week,” Marissa said. “This is day one.”
“That’s great,” he said. “Vacation is good for the soul, hm? Lots of fun stuff planned?”
Marissa thought about the itinerary that Jen had emailed her earlier in the month. “My friend Jen usually likes to play ‘travel agent’ for us while we’re here,” she said. “She booked all kinds of stuff for us—a rock concert later in the week, the fair, a brewery tour, and some kind of escape room adventure that, to be honest, I was dreading.”
She rolled her eyes. “We’re complete opposites, Jen and I. She likes the loud, high-stimulation kind of activities, and I’d be perfectly happy just sitting out on a bench in a park, listening to the birds.”
He chuckled. “So, you’re going to bail on the rock concert?” he asked. “Definitely,” Marissa said with a laugh. “As well as everything else. I’m going to take this vacation at my own pace and enjoy some of the simpler things that this city has to offer.”
“If it’s a top-notch bench-sitting experience you’re after, I know the perfect place,” Colt said. Then he stood. “Kidrick Park… it’s not that far. I think you’ll like it.”
Getting out of the noisy bar sounded good to Marissa, and she could think of nothing that sounded better than sitting on a park bench with Colt.
She took one last sip of her drink, and then followed Colt to the exit.
Outside of the bar, he looped an arm around her shoulders and steered her to the right. “You know how there are just some spots—spots that feel perfect?” Colt said. “This bench is one of those spots. It’s like… what do hippies call them?”
Marissa grinned. Jen was a bit of a hippie at heart, and had talked about this to her before. “Vortexes,” she said.
“Right!” he said. “Vortexes. I heard there’s a few in Arizona. I’ve never gone. I seem to stumble upon places that are energetically perfect, without even trying. I guess it’s a talent of mine. Thing is, some people don’t seem to appreciate them.”
“I know what you mean,” Marissa said.
He squeezed her to him gently. “I had a feeling you would,” he said.
“It’s like some places are just special,” she said. “The air feels sweet, the view is perfectly serene, and everything is peaceful. I found a spot like that when I was a kid growing up in Peabody. Out in Kansas, the big thing is baseball. My parents made a big deal about me being on the girls’ softball team, and I always got into trouble for skipping out on the games.”
She smiled at the memory of being a child. “I’d get into my uniform and head out to the game, but somehow my feet would never walk me to the playing field. Instead, I’d run out to an old oak tree that was up on a hill kind of at the edge of town. I’d spend the whole day out there, and my parents were usually furious when I got back home just as the sky was getting dark.”
As she spoke, she remembered how it felt to spend hours playing under the oak tree, with the birds and squirrels for company, along with a good book or two. “It was like time ceased to exist when I was under that tree,” she said. “I always felt surprised when the sun went down, not sure how it had gotten so late.”
They turned a corner, and an iron archway with Kidrick Park written across the top came into view. They strolled through the park entrance and then along a winding path. Moonlight danced off the thick tree trunks on either side and filtered through the canopy of newly sprouted green leaves above. On both sides of the path, just beyond the trees, green grass spread out like thick carpeting.
“Sounds like you found one of those energy vortexes,” Colt said. “If you believe in that sort of thing.”
“I guess I’ve never thought about putting words to it,” Marissa said. “Until right now. I just thought of it as my tree… my place… a spot where life made perfect sense.”
They climbed the hill, and just as Marissa started to get out of breath, a clearing came into view off to their right. There was a bench in the middle of the clearing, and beyond the bench, a view of the sparkling lights of the city stretched out.
“I didn’t realize we’d climbed so high,” Marissa said, taking in the view.
“That’s the magic of this spot,” Colt said. “It’s such a gradual climb, you barely notice it until the very end. But the truth is, we’re at about five-hundred feet above the city up here.”
He guided her toward the bench.
When Marissa sat, she immediately knew that Colt was like her—he was tuned in to his environment enough to appreciate a good spot when he found one.
“You’re right,” she said softly. “This is wonderful. A real gem.”
He took a seat at her side. Then, he moved in closer to her, until she felt the heat of his body radiate through the fabric of his button-up and jeans.
“It’s perfect,” she said, taking it all in.
“Almost perfect,” he said. “There’s one thing that’s missing.”
She turned to look at him and saw him gazing down at her. “Really?” she asked. “I can’t imagine how it could possibly get any better.”
“Then you’re not trying hard enough,” he said.
He leaned in, and instantly, Marissa knew what he was talking about.
She knew exactly how the moment could be more perfect.
She gravitated toward him until her lips met his. His kiss was strong and gentle at the same time. His hand moved from her shoulder to the nape of her neck and drew her in closer still.
She melted into him, enjoying the subtle taste of whiskey on his lips and tongue. Time seemed to slip away. Her thoughts slipped away too, and soon their kiss was all that existed for her. When he moved, she moved, her lips dancing against his.
When they parted, she ached to experience more of him—all of him. She wanted to feel more than just the warmth of his palm against hers. She wanted more, and she saw in his eyes that he wanted the same.
For the second time that night, he stood and offered her his hand. She felt so in-synch with him—so in tune with his internal rhythm—that she didn’t even have to hear his invitation formed into words. She knew what his extended hand meant; he was inviting her home with him.
She accepted his outstretched hand. She felt like she was floating as she followed him down the winding, moonlit path, into a cab, and then into his penthouse.
His bedroom was gorgeous, his bed was large, and the sheets felt soft and silky against her bare skin. She could barely think straight, as Colt unbuttoned his top, stepped out of his jeans, and joined her in the bed. She could manage one coherent thought: if kissing on the park bench was perfection, then what is this?
Is there a word that means “beyond perfection”?
Her knowledge of vocabulary failed her, and she allowed herself to slip into the wordless bliss of Colt, his weight pressing down on top of her.
For the next few hours, she simply didn’t think at all.
Then, completely satiated, she fell into a blissful sleep with Colt’s strong arms wrapped around her.
Chapter 4
Marissa
Marissa awoke and lay in what she assumed was her hotel bed, with her eyes closed. What an amazing dream, she thought, as she enjoyed the last few little wisps of images that floated through her mind.
A handsome cowboy…
She stretched languidly, and as her arms swept back down to her side, one hand brushed something. A shoulder.
A shoulder!
Her eyes flew open, as memories of the night before flooded her mind.
The whiskey sampling booth. The rodeo. The bar, the bench, the kiss…
And the hours of bliss that unfolded when she and Colt had returned to his be
droom.
She looked at Colt, who was still asleep.
As though he could feel her gaze pinned on him, Colt opened his eyes. He grinned immediately. “Hey there, pretty lady,” he drawled.
She recalled the way he’d called her that the night before, several times. “Will you stop calling me that?” she said playfully. “It doesn’t sound like me.”
“Why?” he said. “You’re a lady, and you sure are pretty.”
She giggled as he pulled her into him. The feel of his bare arms around her filled her with happiness.
“I have a question for you,” he whispered, as he kissed her neck.
“Ask away,” she said.
“How does breakfast sound? Maybe a shower? I can have my staff launder your clothes, and they’ll be dry in no time.”
“Breakfast sounds good,” she said, while playing with his fingers. She kissed the back of his hand and then turned in his arms and looked into his eyes. “But don’t feel like you have to do this just to be a gentleman. If you have other things today, I will completely understand.”
His eyes were so blue. He’d put on briefs, at some point, but that was all he wore. Her body yearned to hold him closer, but she resisted the urge.
After all, she didn’t want to make a fool of herself.
Last night was just a one-night stand. It had to be. She was only in town on vacation, and Colt knew it. She pulled away slightly and made her way to the edge of the bed.
“Actually,” Colt said, getting up as well, “I do have a few meetings planned for the day.” He stood and walked around the bed. He moved into the master bathroom.
Great, thought Marissa. He is eager to get me out of here. I knew he was just trying to be polite.
She heard the water turn on in the bathroom; Colt had turned on the shower.
Then he reappeared, holding a fluffy white towel. “But I’m going to cancel all of them,” he said. “A man’s got to have priorities, you know.” He gave her a wink.
She grinned.
He approached with the towel in hand and said, “Enjoy your shower. There’s a bathrobe in there on the hooks. I’ll get your clothing to my staff and ask them to put breakfast on.”