At the door he threw his cowboy hat on and nodded at her. Her heart beat a little faster. If he wasn't engaged, she'd be flirting. Perhaps it was better this way.
Colt Collins would never be hers.
Chapter 8
Vicki found the steaks in the freezer had thawed enough and needed to be cooked soon. Dusk settled in the sky, and she added charcoal to the grill in the backyard. At least she had remembered how to set something from camp. Her years on her own, without her last name or family money, taught her how to survive in cities with jobs, not camping.
Vicki turned to watch her daughter one more time. Clara had her radio, and she played in the shade on the patio. Today was perfect. Vicki turned around and lit a match, but nothing flamed. She bit her lip, added more charcoal, and lit more matches, but nothing flamed. She crossed her arms. What was she doing wrong?
She picked up a piece of charcoal and held the match to it. The black charcoal never took the flames.
Clearly she'd missed a step. She dropped the charcoal into the pit and wiped the sweat off her brow. She studied the grill like there was a huge secret. How did her brother, Peter, the born-to-be CEO who was trained from birth to run their family and the many business holding, make grilling food look easy? Her brother wasn't motivated to do anything family related, ever, and even he managed to do stuff like this.
"Step back. I'll get the grill ready." Colt's voice crackled from behind, which sent a thrill down her spine.
"Steak night." She didn't dare turn to look at him. Her body ached for him. A few seconds later, she turned and walked toward the patio as Clara and Colt grew closer to her and the grill. She stiffened her spine and refused to react to the smell of oak trees and oranges. "I'll get the food for when you're ready and bring it to you."
"And the beer," Colt called out as he went toward the barbecue.
She heard the spark of the fire catch in the grill and turned. With her jaw clenched, she asked, "How did you do that?"
With a wink, he smiled, and her heart melted. He had looked at her that way years ago, and she used to melt then. She sighed, and he answered, "I have my ways."
She placed her hand on her hip. "And I have mine, country boy. I'll get Clara to turn up her radio, and you'll dance with me before the night ends."
"Lighter fluid." He dropped his gaze as his cheeks grew red. "You had everything but lighter fluid."
Her skin ignited, and she stared at his hard body. She turned her gaze to the ground, and she cooled her jets, though her lips tingled from a memory. "Ohh."
"I'll grill." He nodded.
After the hurricane, the weather was unusually colder than the usual sauna of Miami summers. She was born and raised in the roasting humidity, but the fire now came from inside her. Colt was too dangerous for her well-being. Today was different. She let out a loud sigh, and rolled her shoulders to let the tension that crept up her spine dissipate.
On the porch, she stomped up the stairs and slammed the door behind her. Colt whistled outside, and she heard the noisy sighs she made.
At least the house wasn't stuffy anymore. Colt had taken down the shutters to let the air back in. One step ahead of her today, but then again, he was a perfect gentleman. She shook her head like that would clear it. She had to lose her attraction to Colt fast. The man was engaged to be married, and Victoria Morgan was here for Clara.
As she took out the plate of steaks, the fresh corn on the cob, and the vegetable kebabs she made, Vicki's fingers twitched. Her body was too tight and achy to be near him.
Denial was hard.
She picked out the condiments off the metallic door of the refrigerator. She clicked her tongue in her mouth, pasted a smile back on her face, and went back outside.
With her hip, she pushed open the door, and she saw how handsome Colt had become. The man she stared at across the lawn who chased after Clara was rugged, protective, and the best father she ever could imagine. Their daughter squealed in delight. Vicki licked her lips. His hard muscles and strong shoulders only added fuel to her raging desires.
A genuine smile formed on her face, but as she went toward them, acid grew in her throat. Her father had never loved her, not like Colt with Clara.
Her stomach knotted, and she lowered her gaze. Perhaps the thought related to how she hadn't told Colt this morning about that kiss. She swallowed, and the tension she suddenly had dissipated. They had to find a way to share, and Vicki swore to herself she'd ensure Clara believed that she was worth more than living her life as a man's pretty accessory.
As she joined them and slipped the plate onto the table, Colt's hand squeezed her hip. She stayed speechless, and he reached over her shoulder to take the plate. Heat coursed through her.
He winked. "Go play with the rug rat while I get this started."
"Daddy, I'm not a rug rat," Clara yelled out. "I want to play tag."
With a fast grin, Vicki took her hand from Colt and then raced to her daughter. "Yeah, Dad. She's not a rug rat, but a princess."
"No. A princess. Apparently now I have two princesses in my life." His grin gave his excitement away. "Everywhere I go, girl rug rats turn into princesses."
Clara giggled like he'd said the funniest thing ever. Then she went to sit with her toys. Vicki didn't argue, and followed her until it was clear Clara wanted to play alone.
She pointed to Clara as she met Colt's gaze. Then she nodded and told him, "I'll go and get the beer."
Colt shook his head and his eyes sparkled. "So you failed at being a proper woman. Not getting me my beer on the first trip."
Colt Collins had turned into a comedian. She twirled with her hand in the air to scold him, but his smile was contagious. His appreciative head dip caught her attention, and she didn't rise to the bait. "Country boy like you never had any manners, Colt. We'll work on that when you dance with me."
Without another word spoken, she disappeared into the house.
A cold beer whetted her appetite too. A minute later, she popped the caps off two Coronas, added lime, and headed back out.
His succulent brown eyes stayed on her as she sashayed back with the beer. She handed one to him, and he quirked his eyebrow after he tasted it. "What happened to 'I only drink wine'?"
"I definitely prefer wine, but I'll drink this for now." She shrugged. "Cheers."
They tapped their bottles, and then he elbowed her side. "John taught you about the lime. I'm impressed."
A giggle escaped her lips. "John or Peter will never drink this in public, but you snuck one or two over a few summers and always added the splash of lime. Years later, when I lived in Texas for a minute, I decided to try."
"Limon," he corrected her with his Miami Spanish.
She shook her head at him, and refused to tell him that lime was the correct American terminology for the green, tart fruit. Only in Miami, the label for yellow lemon and the green lime were inverted in the everyday lingo. She tilted her head. "Country boy still arguing with me just because he likes to be right? What did you do without me as your target overseas?"
"You were never a target, Vicki, though I do admit I like being home." He flipped the steaks and stared at his grill. "You're too easy to tease, sunshine."
Clara left her toys, settled on the bench, and picked up a book.
"I'm probably the most difficult woman you ever met." Vicki exhaled and chose to ignore how he'd called her sunshine and how her entire spirit lifted. Together, they were what a family was supposed to be. Then she winked at him. "I know it's hard for you to say you missed me…Miami and all that glitters in the Magic City. I remember you complaining all the time on how you were never coming back."
She had said me, but switched it to the city. She chewed her bottom lip.
His shoulders tensed, and her heart fell in her chest. Was he about to confront her slip with the fiancée reminder? "I was a bratty teen, but once you're in the sandbox, your viewpoint changes."
Her heart thumped for Colt. Without thinking, she h
ugged him. He stiffened then let his hands wrap around her waist. She ran her hands in his hair, and then she stepped away. His mouth was open. She placed her hand on her hip to study him. "Something bad happened to you, Colt. If you need to talk, I'll listen."
"Most people call me Collins, except you."
The storm in Colt's eyes had her step out of his arms' reach. She shivered and realized the sky above them was darkening too. Storms moved fast near hurricanes, and soon they'd have rain. "Vicki, I…"
A loud buzz sounded, and they turned their heads toward the house. All the lights flickered on, and they cheered. The air conditioner and everything else now worked.
"Never mind," he said. "It's for the best."
He'd almost said something else. Her eyes widened, but then she stilled. Some things were better left to rest.
"Get that food off the grill." Vicki took a seat at the bench. "We're hungry. And we're still dancing tonight."
Clara yawned, and Colt frowned, but took the steaks off the grill. Seconds later, he placed a plate in front of Clara and mussed his daughter's hair. Their daughter ignored him, picked up her fork, and said, "Thanks, Daddy."
Vicki's heart constricted. Colt was the one that Clara knew and loved. She'd never be able to make up for not being there right from the beginning.
Colt wrapped his arms around Clara and picked her up to hug her. Clara's face blossomed as her father spun her. Then he placed her in her seat. Vicki's heart swelled.
Then he told her, "You being here now is a good thing, Vicki. But it's gonna rain. We have to go."
Vicki's voice cracked. "I'd have been here if--"
He cut her off and kissed her cheek. Vicki's face warmed, and she didn't know what to say.
Then he pointed toward Clara. "Let's talk away from sleepy head first. Get her plate. We have to get inside fast."
The clouds above his head seemed more ominous. Perhaps there was an outer band of the hurricane about to hit. The wind blew in the trees. She swallowed, and followed Colt's orders as he picked up their daughter.
A moment later, Clara hugged her father's neck, yawned, and said, "I'm not hungry. I'm sleepy."
Vicki picked up the plates as best she could and followed behind Colt. He slowed own and walked next to her as she brought as much in as possible. He then turned and told Vicki, "Let's put the princess in bed together. Then we'll get the rest and eat. She's tuckered out from too much playing in the heat today."
"We drank a lot water," Vicki answered fast, like that alleviated guilt. "I took good care of her."
Colt stayed in step with her as a flash of lightning flew in the distant sky. "I'm sure you did fine. She's being good with you, Vicki."
In Clara's bedroom, Vicki and Colt worked as a team. He held her. She tugged on the covers. Then he took off her shoes and socks, as she changed Clara into a nightgown. Clara sighed as she snuggled into her pillow without opening her eyes. Once they were done, Colt wrapped her in the blanket, and Vicki fixed her hair into a braid. Clara twisted, but their daughter fell into a deep sleep.
Once they were finished, Colt stood first. "I'll go get the rest of the things before the storm hits."
The cool air of the air conditioning made the evening tolerable. Vicki rolled her shoulders as Colt bolted out of the door and through the house. She stood more slowly, checked on her daughter once more, and then slipped out of the room. The humid day had sucked their energy, and tonight they would sleep well.
A few minutes later, Vicki couldn't wait for him anymore, and followed Colt's footsteps. She opened the door to follow him, as thunder cracked in the air. Colt rushed like a bolt of lightning into the door, which she closed a second later. He shook his head to get out the dampness from the rain and then showed her the beers. "Thanks."
In the big, open room, he went to the kitchen to pick up his beer from the counter. Vicki fixed herself a plate, and Colt ran his hand through his hair. The rain outside thundered and poured heavily out the window. Vicki stared at him, but kept her lips sealed.
He said, "I guess I should get to bed."
Not this soon. She shook her head. "I'd like to talk, and we should finish the steaks. You must be hungry, as you didn't eat all day."
"I guess."
Vicki shrugged then went to the kitchen table. She folded her napkin on her lap and waited. He fixed himself a plate and followed her. As he sat, he said, "You're not what I expected, at all. You've become calmer. Want another beer, as you left yours outside?"
"Okay. I'll have a beer, unless you have white wine." She offered a tentative smile as she sat straighter.
He stood like he was marching to orders, went to the kitchen, and poured a glass. Then he returned next to her and handed her the wine. She nodded her thanks as he asked, "Did you go on some spiritual path to transform from high-class princess world?"
No one should know about of the few of the incidents in her past. "Without the House of Morgan title, I discovered what I liked and didn't like. I had a few jobs, moved around, saw the country, but I always felt part of me was missing."
Colt bolted out of his chair and shook the table. Her wine spilled onto the tablecloth. His cheeks reddened again. "I'm sorry. I'll get you another glass."
She inhaled his woodsy scent, and cleaned as best she could with her napkin. "Please get a towel. I want to talk."
He nodded like he'd agreed to his own funeral.
A moment later, he returned with her wine and the towel. He handed the glass to her, and cleaned the mess he'd made. Without looking up, he said, "I'm glad you were here today, Vicki. You helped with Clara, and I don't know what I would have done without you."
The fire within her grew. "I should have been here with you both from the beginning. I should have listened to my heart then and now…"
"I wish you had been."
He folded the towel, placed it next to his seat, and then bit into his food. Her heart soared. He must feel it too. She opened her mouth, but couldn't say a word. Then he wiped his mouth, gazed at his plate, and said, "I don't want to talk about that tonight. I need calm and sweet right now more than anything else. Can we talk tomorrow morning, first thing?"
She nodded. "Of course."
He swallowed and met her gaze. "Today was rough."
She cut her food into smaller pieces. What could she say? She bit a piece and then swallowed. "So what do you want to talk about now?"
She ate another bite.
He swallowed another piece of his dinner, and then stared at his glass. "Last night, I dreamed about you."
She sucked in her breath, to tell him that it wasn't a dream. She raised an eyebrow. "What?"
With a pained expression, he met her gaze. "Visions keep flashing in my mind all day, and my lips tingled from your rose-water taste."
"My what?" She choked, then schooled her expression and tried to pretend it was the food. "Colt…"
His sexy, dark eyes had a flame in them, and he finished his dinner. She did the same. Then he wiped his mouth with the napkin and rubbed his five o'clock shadow on his chin. Her lips opened, and she waited for him to say something. Finally, he broke his stare. "I'm engaged. Belle's a good woman who deserves my respect and fidelity."
Vicki couldn't stop her chin from trembling. She stood with the plates to take them to the sink and called out, "Tell me about her."
"Belle was in the Marines. Stood next to me during a bad firefight." He stared at a wall, unfocused, like he was haunted about something. "She's a lobbyist for a weapons manufacturer up in D.C. now."
"You must be proud, as you've told me what she did now. And I've seen the pictures. Your Belle is gorgeous." She washed the dishes. Then she finished, and turned toward him. He seemed like he was in a trance. She fiddled with her shirt sleeve and came closer to him. She kept her voice soft as she placed her hands on the table next to him. "What are your nightmares about?"
His jaw slackened. He motioned for her to sit with him on the couch in the other room. She picked u
p both their drinks on her way and followed him. She handed him his beer and sat beside him. He swallowed, but his eyes were almost dead. She rubbed his arm. He acted so different from the bright-eyed Colt she knew. She squeezed his knee, but kept her mouth closed, and waited.
His voice started soft. "In war, I was prepared to be executed. My men had been shot with their hands tied behind their heads. The next bullet should have gone into me, but Belle and her unit blazed in, and pulled me out of there."
A gasp escaped her mouth, and she tugged on Colt's arm.
First, he stared at her, but she'd had enough. She hugged him. She had almost lost him, and she hadn't known. Her body trembled. He stared at her without another word for a few minutes, and his face turned red. He tugged at his collar and dropped his gaze. "Belle deserves my loyalty."
"And my gratitude," Vicki added as she took his hand in hers. "I don't know what would have happened if I heard you'd died. I couldn't have held together."
He flinched. "I thought you came here only for Clara."
"I'm not a home wrecker, Colt." His hard features would scare her away, if she didn't know him. Then she brushed her wet eyes to not cry, and scooted her knees over to touch his. She kept her voice low. "In my heart, Colt, you were always the hero."
Without a word, he stood, like he was recoiling from her touch. "Night, Vicki."
Her eyes followed his departing hurry. A lump formed in her throat. If she had been honest from the beginning, everything would be different. She'd have been a mother to her daughter, and her tingling lips that ached for his kiss wouldn't be tender. There was nothing she could do about any of this.
She sipped her wine and stared out the window. The pitter-patter of the soft rain and her drink soothed her hardened stomach. After she finished, she cleaned, turned all the lights off and went to bed. Tonight, she'd dream of the life she'd almost had but lost.
Chapter 9
[House of Morgan 01.0 - 03.0] Boxed Set Page 27