CHAPTER 14
BLAIRE
I ’ve made a lot of stupid decisions in my life but driving up Colt’s driveway with my suitcase in my trunk might be the worst.
It had been almost a week since I picked up Ruby from school, and I’d spent every day avoiding him.
I’d finished helping June sort through her mountains of paperwork, we finally decided on the labels for June’s Jams, and I’d laughed hysterically when I tried to get her to do a dance for June’s Jams new social media accounts.
All the while, I tried like hell not to think about Colt.
But somehow, his name kept slipping into conversation. Ruby had been over twice since I decided I was avoiding him. She was feeling much better, and even if she wasn’t constantly telling me stories about her daddy, I couldn’t look at her without thinking about him.
I was losing my mind.
I was supposed to hate Colt Calloway.
It was the one thing I was certain of, the one constant that I could count on, and yet, I sat in my car with my palms sweating around the steering wheel as I stared up at his house.
The big house on the Calloway Ranch stood tall, all weathered siding and river stone, with a sprawling wraparound porch.
White rocking chairs lined the eastern side, positioned perfectly to catch both the sunrise and the sweeping view of golden wheat fields that stretched toward the mountains on the horizon.
But Colt’s place was a whole different world. It sat much farther back on the property, almost hidden by a wall of trees, and it was so close to the lake that the water seemed to lap right up to his back steps.
It was beautiful and unmistakably his.
Wildflowers spilled from the flower beds that lined his porch, all of them slightly untamed, as if allowed to grow however they pleased. And there were small sunflowers everywhere I looked.
Ruby’s pink bike lay tipped against the bottom step, training wheels caked in mud and sparkling tassels streaming from the handlebars. A helmet decorated in butterfly stickers lay upside down farther up the porch as if tossed there mid-adventure.
The wraparound porch itself was nothing like the grand, sweeping one of the big house. This was smaller with mismatched chairs and a porch swing that overlooked the lake.
Where the big house was grand and open, Colt and Ruby’s felt like a secret hideaway meant just for them.
Except now I was here too.
But this was temporary. I had no other choice. I could have asked to stay in the main house with June, but the Calloways were already juggling enough. I had seen how exhausted Lou looked, and after what I’d learned about the loan, I couldn’t bear to be another burden they had to shoulder.
I killed the engine and took a long, steadying breath before opening the door.
The air was warm, and I could hear the soft lapping of the lake beyond the house.
My hands trembled as I grabbed my suitcase from the back seat and forced my legs to move toward the house before what little courage I had disappeared.
The flagstone walkway leading to the porch was a riot of color.
There were chalk rainbows arched between the stepping stones, unicorns with impossible proportions smiling up at me, and two stick figures holding hands with a giant sunshine above their heads.
“Ruby” and “Daddy” were written above them, and I paused, picturing Colt crouched here, gripping the pink chalk and writing their names as Ruby instructed.
The front door opened before I even made it up the steps, and Colt was there in the doorway, leaning a shoulder against the frame as he watched me. His damp hair was pushed out of his face and curling against the nape of his neck as if he’d just stepped out of the shower.
I tore my eyes from his face, only to stare at a threadbare white T-shirt and a pair of gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
I became acutely aware of the dust and debris that still caked my clothes and the musty scent that clung to me from the disaster at June’s, and he stood in the doorway like some domestic god in sweatpants.
“Hey,” he said as he wiped his hands on a dishtowel, but he was drinking me in. “You find the place okay?”
“Yeah.” I laughed, feeling so out of my depth. “You told me your house was down near the lake, and I did practically live on this ranch once upon a time.”
“I remember,” he said quietly, his gaze skimmed down, then back up. Heat slid under my skin.
“Did you build this?” I asked, nodding to his house to avoid looking at him.
“Yeah.” He nodded, and I wondered if he could see how affected I was by him. “You want a hand with that?” He glanced down at my luggage.
“I’ve got it,” I answered quickly, and I climbed up the steps, my heavy suitcase thunking along behind me.
He didn’t move as I reached the threshold. Standing this close, I caught the scent of him, spiced cedar and worn leather that used to cling to my skin, and my traitorous body tensed with the recognition of what it was like to be wrapped in that scent until I was drunk on it.
“Are you just going to stand there and block the door?” I huffed, my pulse quickening as his eyes drifted down to my lips, lingering there.
He leaned forward slightly, his forearm braced on the doorframe above his head. “Just taking you in, Strawberry,” he murmured, voice dropping to a rasp. “I didn’t think your stubborn ass would actually show up.”
That nickname slid through me like warm honey, pooling low in my belly even as I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, well,” I stammered, suddenly aware of how close we were standing. “I could come here or succumb to death by black mold. It took me a while to decide.”
He chuckled as he finally stepped back enough for me to slip past. I had to turn sideways to squeeze past him, my stomach tightening as my breasts grazed his chest. My gaze caught on the tiny scar below his jaw, the one I’d given him the night he pushed me away, when I hurled the necklace he’d given me years before back in his face.
His eyes darkened as they snagged on my parted lips, and when he swallowed, I watched the movement in his throat with a hunger that terrified me.
His lips twitched as he looked down at me, as if he knew exactly what I was thinking, and I darted past him before I did anything both of us would regret.
His soft chuckle trailed after me. “Need me to grab anything else from your car?” he asked, and I could feel him still watching me.
“No, this is it,” I said, my voice betraying me with a slight tremor. I tried to seem unaffected as he finally closed the door with a soft click that jolted through me.
His house was so viscerally domestic— and so him. This was where he lived and slept, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from tracking over every inch.
His work boots stood beside her tiny pink sneakers near the door, while a pair of fairy wings hung from a hook beside Ruby’s rain jacket.
The entryway opened up directly into the living room and kitchen, with no walls between them.
There were exposed beams and sunlight pouring in from the large windows that had a breathtaking view of the lake.
Ruby’s drawings covered the fridge, pinned between mismatched magnets and a photo of her and Colt by the water. Children’s books were stacked haphazardly on the coffee table next to a teacup set, and a stuffed unicorn was sprawled across the couch.
Everywhere I turned, there were signs of happiness.
My chest tightened as Colt’s eyes tracked me as I took in his home, and his jaw flexed before he retreated to the kitchen.
“Ruby should be out here in a minute,” he said, lifting a wooden spoon from the counter and giving a quick stir to the pot on the stove. “I’m going to apologize in advance for all the stuffed animals she moved to your room. She said it looked boring in there.”
He laughed as he turned back to face me. I was still standing exactly where he’d left me, white knuckling my suitcase handle. His gaze traveled over me slowly, like he was trying to figure me out.
“This is weird, right?” I blurted out, and heat crawled up my neck as his smile grew until his dimples appeared.
“It’s so weird.” He nodded, leaning back against the counter, his T-shirt pulled taut against his chest.
He gripped the edge of the counter behind him, the veins in his forearms standing out beneath tanned skin, and I couldn’t stop myself from imagining what it would be like if he wrapped his hands around my hips and lifted me onto that very counter.
“We don’t have to do this,” I said, suddenly desperate for air. “If you’ll let me shower, I’ll head back to June’s for the night. I can come up with a new plan tomorrow.”
He snorted. “You’re not running back to that mess. I’d catch hell from June and my mom, and Ruby would be devastated.” He fixed me with a look that was half amusement, half warning. “And we are both adults.”
“Who hate each other,” I interjected, and he cocked his head, a muscle in his cheek twitching. His eyes traced over my face, lingering on my mouth, and I bit down on my lip to stop the plea that wanted to escape.
“Do we hate each other?” His voice dropped to a rasp that vibrated through me.
My skin prickled with goosebumps, and I shifted my weight, hands twisting on my suitcase handle until I feared it would break.
“We do,” I whispered, but even I could hear the want beneath my words. “We absolutely do.”
“You sure about that, Strawberry?” The nickname slid from his lips like a caress.
“Stop calling me that,” I snapped, but my stomach fluttered.
“I don’t hate you, Blaire.” His eyes darkened, and I hated how my body responded, how I swayed toward him without permission. “Things just got complicated.”
“Right,” I said, my voice sharp. “My world was turned upside down because things got complicated.”
The words tasted like acid, and I watched them land. Colt’s jaw clenched, and a muscle ticked beneath the stubble. But it wasn’t anger in his eyes. It was worse—regret.