Chapter 22
COLT
The best place for the latest town gossip was the Sip N’ Serv.
That meant the best ally to spread a rumor was Mabel.
After Molly left–fuck, even her fake tears ripped at my heart–I stormed across the street to the diner and got the plan to take down Missy Simon started.
I knew with the next rush of hungry customers, she’d be telling everyone how Molly broke up with me.
Then I went home. Got Trig to meet me. Since his new wife was with my girl at Ma’s, I knew he was free and would want to stay close by.
If needed, we could grab the snowmobiles and be over the hill in minutes.
I’d pulled beers from the fridge, opened up the take out I’d brought home and we settled on the couch to watch an early season baseball game and for me to update him on what the fuck was going on.
There was no way in hell I was gonna be alone while someone as crazy as Missy came to my house. Not that I needed a chaperone not to touch her, but someone to remind me not to kill her.
I also needed a witness.
It took less than three hours for my doorbell to ring. News travelled fast but I figured it was more that Missy was desperate… and vindictive.
“Colt!” It was Molly’s voice that was shouted through the front door followed by pounding. “Please, Colt!”
I looked to Trig, who nodded.
He remained on the couch with the game while I went to the door.
I had to admit, seeing someone who looked and sounded just like my Molly was startling. Same hair. Same height. Same features. Same everything.
Hell, they even had the same pink coat.
No way in hell was I sticking my hand down this woman’s pants to see if she had a heart shaped pussy patch.
But then I eyed her like a sheriff and not a man. One look at Molly Simon from across the Cheyenne arena and I’d been hooked. My dick should stir for this woman, too, right?
But no.
I couldn’t say exactly what the differences were, but the two women weren’t exact. Her mouth was downturned. Her eyes were more cunning. The way she held her shoulders was stiffer. Her skin suffered from the drug use.
This wasn’t Molly.
“What are you doing here?” It wasn’t hard to sound angry. If we’d broken up, then I wouldn’t want her on my doorstep.
She stepped toward me. Set her hand on my chest. “I’m sorry. I came here to apologize.”
I wanted to slam the door in her face, but I stepped back and let her in, closing out the cold air.
“For what?” I asked. “You broke up with me, remember?”
She followed and put her hand back on my chest. Then it began to wander and a smile grew on her face. Not a sweet one, but a sly one.
“For thinking even for a second I could be without you,” she explained.
I faked a smile. “Yeah?”
That got her gaze gleaming. She was thinking hook, line, and–
“Let me make it up to you.” Her hand dropped down over my stomach and to my belt buckle as she sank to her knees.
Right there in my fucking entryway.
My dick didn’t stir. Not at the sight of a Molly-lookalike ready to suck me off.
“What’s going on?” Thank fuck for Trig.
Missy’s eyes widened in surprise, having assumed I was alone.
When Trig came to stand beside me, we looked down at Missy together.
“Well, cowboy, I can take care of you next,” Missy purred.
Trig crossed his arms over his broad chest. “The only woman who sucks my dick is my wife.”
“And the only woman who sucks mine is Molly,” I added.
I had to give her some credit. She held onto her performance longer than I expected. “Colt, baby, you know how much you–”
“–like your sister to suck my dick?” I nodded. “I do. Get up, Missy.”
The second she realized the charade was over, all emotion wiped off her face like an eraser and a chalkboard. No smile. No warmth.
This bitch was cold as fucking ice.
She dropped her hand and stood.
“Missy Simon, you’re under arrest for breaking and entering, impersonating a medical professional, and other charges I’m sure I’ll be adding.”
Missy shrugged. The bitch shrugged. “If I suck you off, will you let me go?”
My eyes widened and Trig laughed.
“If you suck me off, I’ll probably get an STD.”
“She’s nothing!” Missy hissed as I spun her around and very happily cuffed her. She fought against the restraints, even though it was futile. “Why would you want to be with a goodie two-shoes like Molly?”
I wasn’t telling this woman shit about the reasons why I loved her sister. Not only wouldn’t she understand, but I wasn’t giving her anything to use against us. What I shared with Molly was real. Pure. Perfect. I wasn’t letting Missy taint it in any way.
Trig opened the door and I pushed her through and toward my patrol SUV. “Because unlike you, she likes it when I cuff her.”