Chapter 7
MOLLY
Forever. I stewed on that word all the way to his house.
I couldn’t do forever. Couldn’t chance my heart with that kind of word.
Anything good that happened to me was destroyed by Missy time and again.
It was safer to keep people at arms length, to fuck them in a janitor’s closet or spend the night in their hotel room, then move on.
Handcuffs and forever didn’t sound like moving on.
He’d told whomever was towing my car that was where we were headed.
It was ten minutes out of town off a dirt road.
The drive meandered a ways onto the property and to a log cabin settled up on a bluff.
There was nothing in every direction but beautiful views covered in snow.
I saw a house in the distance and the drive curving up to it like a pale snake through the prairie.
A dually pickup truck–the kind with two wheels on each side in the back instead of one–was parked by the back steps. Colt pulled his patrol SUV in beside it.
“You can take off the cuffs now. It’s not like I can go anywhere,” I muttered, reaching for the button to undo my seatbelt. The sooner we got this–whatever this was–over with, the sooner I could get back to my regularly scheduled, unexciting, safe life.
He tipped his head my way. “Not a chance.”
He came around the SUV and opened the door for me.
As I slid from the seat and stood between the vehicle, the open door, and him, I remembered just how big he was. How safe I felt with him. Safe enough to go off to a tucked away room of an event center and have sex.
Now, it felt different. There was no one else around. Perhaps for a half mile or more. I could run. He’d catch me. I could scream. No one would hear.
I was handcuffed.
He had a gun.
I was mad at him.
Yet, I knew he would take care of me.
Was I mental?
Probably.
“Come on.” He took my hand–the other one dangling beside it–and led me to his back door. Using a numbered electric keypad, he unlocked the door and led me into his kitchen.
After he shut the door behind me, he took off his utility belt and set it on the granite counter, his car keys going right beside it.
I took the time to look around. The place was immaculate.
Counters wiped down, no dirty dish in sight.
The wood floors gleamed. It was an open floorplan.
Off the kitchen was a huge family room with a two story fireplace, a wide-screen TV with a very comfortable looking sectional facing it.
Across the coffee table was a comfy lounge chair and ottoman.
A dining table was placed by a large bay window that looked out over the view.
There were a few doors along the back wall which I assumed went to the laundry, a powder room, and the attached garage.
The second floor was like a loft and I could see a large bed and dresser through the thick log slats of the railing.
It was very western. Very male.
And it smelled like Colt.
I looked at him and realized he’d been standing and watching me.
“What do you think?”
“It’s really nice,” I said, trying to remain neutral. I didn’t want to tell him I loved it, that it was cozy and in the prettiest spot I’d ever seen. I wanted to nap on his couch and snuggle up in front of a roaring fire in the winter as the snow fell.
“You’re on the family ranch. We’ve all got places.”
“All?”
“I’ve got seven brothers and a sister.”
I blinked. “You have eight siblings?”
He grinned. Nodded. “Yeah. What about you?”
“A sister.” He didn’t need to know any more about her. The less, the better.
“My parents’ place is over that bluff. Everyone but my youngest brother Zeb’s got their own house on the land. Well, Bray, too, ‘cause he lives with Hayes.”
“Wow, okay.”
“Come on, pretty girl, it’s time to talk.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want to talk.”
“Good, because I’m the one who’s got things to say.”
He tugged me once again toward the couch, dropped down on it. When I mulishly refused to settle beside him, he rolled his eyes and yanked.
I fell with a gasp, and was settled right over his thighs. Ass up.
“Hey!”