Colt #3
Still petting Betty, I say, “No offense, but I don’t trust your dating choices.”
“I’ll have you know that my meddling led to your brother and Keely dating. And now look at them.” Her hand flaps around, giving a flourish to her words.
“Beau met the girl on his own. You just made him realize he was in love. That’s not the same as setting me up with a girl from your book club who’s probably ugly and knits cat hair sweaters.”
She swats my hand. “Colt. That is rude.”
“You’re not denying it, though.”
Mom’s shoulder twitches upward in a move so slight I wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t know her as well as I do.
“Yeesh. She’s a real dog, isn’t she? No offense, Betty Spaghetti.”
Betty licks my forearm, and I offer her the rest of my bread.
My mom laughs under her breath. Still not denying it. And this is exactly why I don’t trust her dating choices.
She leaves me at the table to ponder exactly how ugly this woman from book club is. Whit likes books—maybe I can send her on a recon mission to find out.
Mom slings a white tea towel over her shoulder, picking up a wooden spoon to get back to whatever she’s cooking tonight. “Is Whit pretty?”
I choke on my own spit, coughing and gasping, shakily bringing my beer to my lips.
“Um, uh, I haven’t really noticed.”
“You haven’t noticed if she’s pretty?”
“Nope.”
The word pretty doesn’t do her justice. She’s a tall, brunette, green-eyed goddess, with sharp features and sharper wit. Every time I look at her, I’m caught somewhere between intimidated and turned-on, and both feelings make my blood turn white-hot.
I don’t know what’s frying in the cast iron, but I’d love to chat about it instead of Whit.
“Whatcha cookin’?” I crane my neck for a better view. “Smells amazing. Bet it’s gonna taste great, too.”
“Caramelized onions for the hamburgers…Isn’t Denny dating her sister?”
“Please don’t talk to me about your crush on Denny again.
” Skirting around her to put my empty plate in the dishwasher, I make direct eye contact.
Study her pupils to gauge whether she’s had anything to drink today.
A couple years ago my parents came to a Christmas party at the ranch, and Mom got tipsy and talked my ear off about how cute Denny is all night.
“I’m simply making an educated guess that Denny wouldn’t date a girl who’s a ‘dog,’ so I’m sure her sister is pretty, too.”
“Did you buy mozzarella for the burgers?”
Her thin eyebrows pull together, narrowing her stare at me.
Guess there’s no mozza. Damn.
“I grew up with three brothers. I married your dad—he’d break his neck to get a glimpse of a pretty girl walking by. And I raised two sons. I know how men operate, and I refuse to believe you wouldn’t notice if she’s attractive or not.”
“I drop Jonas off a few days a week. I’ve seen Whit a handful of times when I was tired from working all day, so I wasn’t exactly thinking about that sort of thing.”
Her soft, warm palm finds my bare forearm, and she rubs slowly as she talks in a hushed, soothing voice. “Colt…do you…are you into boys? It’s okay if you are. You know I’ll love you and your brother no matter who you want to be with.”
Oh. My. God.
Face meet palm.
“I don’t notice if one woman is pretty or not, and suddenly that makes me gay?”
“No, no, no. But you’ve never brought a girl around, and you turn down all my offers to set you up. You really liked the Spice Girls when you were little.”
“Show me anybody who doesn’t like them and I’ll show you a liar.
” My hip digs into the counter, and I ignore her slapping fingers to scoop a spoonful of caramelized onions from the pan.
They burn my tongue, but it’s worth it. “I like women. Love ’em, even.
If you must know, I sleep with lots of women, but they’re nobody I’d want to bring home. ”
Okay, not entirely true. I sleep with very few women. Actually, make that past tense: I’ve slept with a few women, but none recently.
Her face falls. “Oh, Colt. I just want you to find somebody who will make you happy.”
“Yeah, well, when I find her, you’ll be the first to know.”
The hand still stroking my arm moves to slide around my waist, and she pulls her small body into mine until I hug her back. I know she isn’t old old, but she certainly feels more fragile than the sturdy farm mom I grew up hugging. And fuck, does that suck.
If there’s one thing I know, it’s that I want my mom to be happy.
With my brother traveling the world and chasing his musical dreams, having kids is likely the last thing on his mind.
I’d love to give Mom the grandkids she’s desperate to have, because she’d love the shit out of them.
She’d be baking cookies every day and taking the kids to the zoo and doing all the things she would’ve loved to do with Beau and me, had she been in a position where she wasn’t struggling to make ends meet and essentially raising two kids alone, since Dad was on the road more often than not. I want that for her.
“You should bring Whit and Jonas for dinner next time.”
I pull back from the hug to give her a look. “Ma…”
“Not trying to meddle.” She holds her hands up in surrender. “But you love that boy of hers—the way you talk about him has made that clear. And I’m your mom, which means I like to meet the people in your life.”
“He’s a pretty cool kid,” I admit. “He made a comment about knowing his dad was going to flake out, and I remember being that kid. So I kind of felt…I don’t know, called, I guess, to take him under my wing then.”
“Colt…” Mom twists at the waist to face me. A knot tangles in my throat at the sight of her eyes watering. “I’m sorry you felt like you couldn’t rely on Dad.”
It’s not that I felt like I couldn’t rely on him…that was the reality of the situation. Rodeos and cattle drives were his priority. I don’t know what Alex’s excuse is, but I do know how it feels to be a son without a present father.
And yet, I can’t bear the idea of making my mom feel guilty, so I immediately backpedal. “I didn’t mean it that way. I’m only saying that I know what it’s like to have a dad who isn’t always around—I know Dad was just working to support us. I like being there for Jonas.”
“He’s lucky to have you there.” She dabs at the inner corner of her eye with her tea towel, and a thin smile fractures her face. “Love you, bud. All I want is for you to be happy.”
“I’m happy, Ma.” Pulling her into another hug, I press a kiss to the top of her head. “It’s gonna take one hell of a woman to compete with you and Betty.”