Chapter Four #3
Didn’t he realize she was not a figure-it-out kind of girl? She liked plans and checklists and, yes, damn it, she loved a calendar. Even though she was all about spontaneity, she loved structure and certainty, too.
He slumped back in his chair, studying her. “What did slow look like with the other guys you dated?”
“Oh. Well.” Her cheeks burned, heat running down her neck.
How on earth did she explain this? Saying she’d been emotionally connected to Scott without a real relationship and that she’d only indulged in physical relationships with other men made her look, well, her mama would call that cheap.
She’d called it modern and practical, fooling herself.
In reality, it had been pathetic and weak, waiting for Scott to change.
With that head-tilt, he narrowed his eyes. “Let me guess, you’ve been less about dating and more about hookups.”
Leaning her elbow on the table, she pointed her fork at him. “Don’t you ever let Mona hear you say that.”
He fanned his fingers. “Can’t think of a situation in which that would come up in front of your mama.”
“She would die.” Holly speared a squash slice. “She thinks I’m waiting for my wedding night.”
“Mphh.” Colt choked on a swallow of water, sputtering. Gasping on a strangled laugh, he wiped his wrist across his mouth. “Holy hell. You’re kidding me.”
“It makes her happy. I swear, Colton, if you–”
He guffawed, and she closed her eyes, unwilling humor curling her lips into a smile.
“Stop it.”
“I’m trying. Mona thinks you’re a virgin.” Laughter continued to choke his voice. He wiped tears from his eyes. “Lord, imagine if she knew about Coach Z.”
“I am going to stab you with this fork.”
“All right, I’m done.” He folded an arm across his abdomen, eyes gleaming, face open and boyish with good humor. Her heart clenched – she wanted him to look like that all the time. She wanted to be the reason he looked like that all the time. A breath shuddered out of him. “Man, I needed that.”
Comfortable quiet wrapped about them while they ate and cleared the table. Her deck dishes required handwashing, and he rinsed and dried after she sudsed and wiped.
“Oh, hey.” He rolled the bar towel into a tight rope and swatted her butt with the end, earning him a dirty look from beneath her lashes. “Wednesday before Thanksgiving, Mama’s hosting the big family shindig. Put it on your calendar if you think you want to come with me.”
Raising an eyebrow, she leaned on the cabinet and folded her arms. “Are you taking me home to meet your mama?”
“My mama already knows you.” He straightened out the towel and hooked it over the oven handle to dry. “You wanted us at the next level. Well, I’ve always taken whoever I was dating to family holidays, so you’re it, babe.”
Holly bit her lip.
“What?” He propped on the opposite counter, leaning on his arms, hands wrapped around the marble edge.
“Thanksgiving is in like two weeks. If I go with you, then your mama will tell my mama and . . .” She gave an exaggerated shudder.
His whole body stilled. “You weren’t planning on telling your mama we were going out?”
“I don’t tell Mona anything about my love life.” The habit had arisen around the mess she and Scott were, coupled with her mother’s hopes for her and Tick. Keeping their daily conversations as far from that area of her life had worked for years.
“Huh.” Mouth slightly parted, he passed his tongue along the inside of his bottom lip. “Okay.”
Mirroring his hold on the countertop, she levered forward. “It’s not about you.”
“You’re right. It’s not.” A slow grin spread over his face, devilment in his eyes. “It’s about you being scared of your mama.”
“I am not afraid of Mona.” She hunched her shoulders. “I just don’t want to deal with Mona sometimes.”
“Sometimes.” He gave a slow nod. “Not gonna be your dirty little secret, Holly.”
Her mouth dropped open. “Colt. That is so unfair. I didn’t say I wouldn’t tell her.”
“Not gonna be your random hookup, either.” He lifted an index finger in punctuation, but didn’t shift his stance. “It’s either a relationship built on friendship and mutual respect or it’s a friendship. We’re not getting muddy.”
She sagged, knowing he was right even if she didn’t want to admit it. She’d had muddy with Scott and didn’t want that again. “You know it’s a relationship.”
“All right.” He shook his head. “You’re really a little high maintenance, aren’t you?”
“What?”
“Like you think it’s all going to be easy with you because we’re friends, but hashing this out is like working on that eighties Mercedes Louise had for a while.”
Her lashes fell.
“Ran like a dream once we had it all tuned up.” Cloth rustled, and heat warmed the front of her body. His fingers brushed hers as he caged her arms with his. She raised her lashes to find those devilish dark eyes close to hers, a slight humorous twist to his lips.
“You’re comparing me to a classic luxury car.” She refused to cross her arms. “A high maintenance luxury car.”
“Yeah.” He lifted a hand to catch a lock of her hair and twirl it around his finger. “Told you it ran like a dream once we fixed the misfires.”
“Misfires.” She looped her arms about his neck and drew him closer. He allowed it, belly and thighs pressed to hers. “You have a smart mouth, Colt Calvert.”
“Runs in the family.” One corner of that delicious mouth quirked. “Get it from Gene.”
With a soft noise of assent, she lifted her lips to his, opening to him.
Talking got them into trouble, and this was easy.
He nipped at her lower lip, danced the tip of his tongue just inside her mouth.
He really was the biggest tease, and yes, she would tell Mama about him .
. . soon. Tangling her fingers in the short hair at his nape, she stroked the base of his skull, swallowing his rough groan.
“I’ll come with you to your family Thanksgiving.” She melted into him, her curves aligned to hard muscles, but found no jagged edges to hurt her. A smile moved his mouth against hers. “Be prepared to go get Chinese after the Macy’s parade with Mona because that’s what we do.”
He lifted his head, body still a warm wall at her front. “But home in time to watch football, right?”
“Of course.” Mama loved football, and they watched every Thanksgiving afternoon, then Holly went to Scott’s for final party setup and–
A dart of pain skewered through her chest, and she stiffened.
Colt levered back. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about–” She bit the words off and shook her head. Ignoring how her fingers shook, she brushed her hair back. Time. She simply needed more time, that was all. She’d get over this, get over him. A swallow hurt her too-tight throat. “Nothing.”
“Okay.” His eyes said he wasn’t fooled, but he respected the boundary. Taking a step back, he tilted his head toward the door. “I’m going to clean up the grill now it’s had time to cool.”
“Thank you.” Watching him walk out, she ran her palms down the sides of her thighs. She was doing the right thing, moving on. She and Scott were over, if they’d ever really been anything to start with, and she liked Colt, cared about him, wanted him, trusted him.
All of this would be fine.