Chapter 25 Colt #2
“Another few weeks. Dad would probably love to see you too, once you’re back home. I’m guessing what we heard is true, then?” He gives me a sidelong glance. “You’re not with Ranger anymore.”
Denver lets out a high-pitched laugh, then slaps her hand over her mouth. “I’m not laughing at that, I’m … Colt and I aren’t …” She waves a hand between us. “I didn’t leave Ranger for Colt.”
Rude. Really fucking rude. Why is that so unbelievable?
“Well, either way, Dad and I are here if you need us,” Noah says. “You always have the Merricks on side.” I snort, and they both stare at me. “My number is the same. Just call me when you want to go out.”
“I will.” She hugs him goodbye, and I don’t even bother offering to shake his hand again because I’m being childish.
Denver fills Lewis in on the conversation on the drive back, and I say nothing. I don’t know why Noah Merrick has bothered me so much. He seems fine. The Merricks are fine. They’re not a big family, but they don’t have a terrible reputation.
Denver Merrick is a ridiculous name, though. It doesn’t suit her.
Why am I even thinking about that?
Finn’s house is still empty when we get back, and while Lewis goes upstairs, Denver leans against the kitchen side, texting.
Texting Noah, probably. I open the refrigerator far too aggressively. “Noah seems nice.”
“Mmhm.”
Taking out a water bottle, I open it, staring at her. “He’s a little short.”
She raises her gaze to mine. “Everyone is short next to you.” I shrug and take a swig. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Colt?” she asks sweetly, placing her phone down. “Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?”
“I have absolutely no thoughts.”
“Clearly.”
I glare at her. “I just think he’s a little …” I gesture with the bottle. “Beige.”
Why am I insulting a man I don’t even know? I’m being pathetic. No, fuck that. I’m being protective. Denver has been through hell, and maybe if she’d had a friend a year ago, she wouldn’t have married Ranger. I could be the friend that saves her from another crappy relationship.
“Beige,” she repeats, and I nod. “Elaborate.”
“Well, for one, I could beat him up.”
She laughs loudly. “Wow.”
“What? I could. And he didn’t recognize my name, which means he’s massively uninformed, and therefore … beige.”
Denver claps slowly. “Congratulations on sounding both arrogant and nonsensical at the same time. I bet his wife thinks he’s lovely.”
I pause the bottle at my lips. “Wife.”
“Yes, he’s on his honeymoon,” she says. “He invited me for coffee to meet her. He thinks we’ll get along.”
I finish the bottle of water while she watches me, and then wet my lips, placing the empty bottle down. “Good for him.”
She turns on her heel and walks out. “You’re a jerk.”
But I’m smiling. Smiling like a jerk. Because she isn’t meeting Noah Merrick for a date, and that shouldn’t make me feel good, but it does. My smile vanishes when she comes back into the room.
“Why do you care?”
“Care?”
“Yes.” She puts her hands on her hips, frowning. “Why do you care if I go for coffee with Noah Merrick?”
“I don’t. Do coffee with him. Even though coffee isn’t a verb.”
She narrows her eyes and closes the space between us. “You cared before you found out he was married.”
I run my tongue over my teeth and shrug. “His marital status has zero bearing on my dislike for him. My issue is he was in no way good enough for you, and I could see that.”
“From a two-minute meeting?”
“Yes.”
“And you know who is good enough for me?”
I straighten up off the counter and look down at her.
The sunlight streams through the kitchen window, illuminating her hair, brightening her eyes and the fire behind them.
I have an urge to reach out and touch her, to check whether the sun has warmed her skin, to move her hair aside and see if there’s that flush on her neck that sometimes appears when we talk.
I don’t need to count the freckles on her cheeks because I’ve done it a dozen times, but I note some new ones that have appeared.
Going back to her hotel room that night is a memory I’ve buried beneath her grief. How I felt was the last thing on my mind, and she took the forefront. Protecting her. Helping her. Just being there.
But it’s hard to deny this pull between us.
Just like outside the restaurant, those feelings come roaring back to the surface, an overwhelming, suffocating urge to touch her, kiss her, to pick up on a moment we shouldn’t have shared all those weeks ago.
My heart rate increases and the back of my neck warms, and my instinct to touch her overcomes the thousand reasons why I shouldn’t.
I cup her cheek, and her skin is warm, and her fire simmers away. Her expression softens, and she closes her hand over the one I’ve placed against her cheek, holding it in place.
The front door bangs closed, and she bumps into a kitchen stool to back away from me. Her eyes widen, and she looks like she’s grasping for words that neither of us can find.
“There you are,” Finn says. “Charlie said there was trouble.”
I clear my throat. “Easily fixed. Someone hijacked the shipment. He’s dead.”
He huffs out a breath. “Fucking amateurs. You okay, Denver?”
She nods. “Fine. Just going to shower and … shower.” She darts from the room, and Finn watches her go with a quizzical expression.
“Is she okay?” he asks. An exhale of breath is all I manage as a response. “Probably not the best time to tell her that Ranger called me.”
My skin is suddenly heated for an entirely different reason. “What did he say?”
“Exactly what I expected. Send her home or I’ll regret it if I don’t.” He folds his arms. “I reminded him who he was talking to. He reminded me whose wife I’ve taken.”
Taken. Of course, he would see it like that. Ranger has probably convinced himself that all of this is Finn’s fault.
“How did the conversation end?”
He exhales. “He said she’s either back in his house by Christmas, or he’ll come and get her.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said if he tries to do anything she doesn’t want to do, I’ll kill him. Nephew or not.”
He means it, too. I’ve seen how he’s grown to love Denver over the last few weeks. She’s one of us now whether Ranger likes it or not, and if he steps foot in this city, he won’t leave it alive unless Denver goes willingly. And she won’t.
“I’ll tell her tomorrow,” he says as he leaves the room.
More weight to add to her shoulders, but she deserves to know. It would be good, at least, for her to have something to look forward to, though. So, I’ll make that happen.
I fire off a text.
ME: If I feel like visiting the West Coast, when can I surprise him most?
I wait, and the message is read quickly. Three dots appear.
BURNER ONE: Tomorrow morning could be fun.
I grin and dial Charlie’s number. He answers, “Yep?”
“Want to piss someone off?”