Chapter 8
Colt
We’re in the event center next to the meeting hall, where it’s been transformed into a winter wonderland.
Shimmery snowflakes hang from the ballroom ceiling, with buffet tables along the perimeter hosting a variety of hors d’oeuvres and sweets.
Round tables adorned with red and white linens are scattered throughout the space, each with holiday centerpieces that add to the festive spirit.
Which I’m not feeling one fucking bit.
A local band plays a jazzy “Jingle Bell Rock” while the fine citizens of Stone Ridge dance away. I knock back my next shot, the amber liquid fiery smooth down my throat as I watch Hallie dancing with Gentry. Why the hell are they still out there?
We did our obligatory thing with all the other auction couples by kicking off the first dance. And before anyone goes around assuming I was a dick to Liz, I was a perfect gentleman. It was nice to catch up. But neither of us was interested in a third dance like these two.
My watch pings with a message from my sister.
Brooke: Fix your face.
I roll my eyes and hear another ping.
Brooke: Saw that.
I set the glass on a service tray and head over to the happy couple. Enough is enough.
“May I cut in?” My tone doesn’t leave room for Gentry to do anything but step aside.
My boy slaps my back and heads to my spot at the bar, where he pretends to ignore my sister.
“Glad you saved a dance for me, Cupcake.”
I pull Hallie into an embrace before she can protest, one hand settling at the small of her back, the other clasping hers. The band plays something softer, and I try not to think too much about the way she fits against me like she was made for it.
Her blue eyes gaze up at me, wary but wanting, her loose curls framing her beautiful face, and something in my chest tightens. I flash her a grin, letting my dimples show because I know what they do to women. But with Hallie, it feels different. Less like a move and more like... hope.
“You look beautiful tonight,” I say, and mean it more than I should.
She bites her full lip, and I catch the hesitation there. She’s thinking about my reputation; I can see it written all over her face. The buckle bunnies, the circuit hookups, the fact that I’ve spent ten years making it clear I’m not the settling-down type.
But damn. If I were actually on the market, wouldn’t I deserve a chance?
Over her shoulder, I spot Liz dancing with Nate. She’s smiling at Brooke’s bachelor date, really smiling, not that calculated thing she used to do in high school. Her face is soft, genuine, and he’s looking at her like she hung the moon.
Good. Maybe she’s finally found what she was looking for. Gawd knows it wasn’t me.
“What’s on your mind, Cupcake?” I brush a strand of strawberry-blonde hair away from her face, unable to resist touching her.
“Oh, just a wedding cake I have to assemble this week. It’s a contemporary multi-tiered fondant.” The lie comes too quickly, and we both know it.
“Did The Kindly Crumb make the cake pops?” At the sweets table is a giant tree-shaped cake pop tower.
“We did. The red ones are strawberry, and the white ones are either chocolate or vanilla.”
I pull her closer, our bodies swaying together in perfect rhythm. She feels right here, pressed against me, her hand warm in mine. Like we’ve been doing this for years instead of minutes.
But something shifts in her expression, sadness, maybe, or resignation, and it hits me like a hoof to the gut. She believes this is temporary. That I’m temporary.
And maybe she’s right to assume that. I haven’t wanted a woman in my life for a long time.
But holding Hallie Emory on this dance floor, with Christmas lights twinkling overhead and her vanilla scent wrapping around me, I’m starting to think I want to be different.
Maybe I want to be the kind of man who stays.
Problem is, I’ve spent ten years convincing everyone, including myself, that I’m not.