Chapter Fourteen
“Admit you only want to date me because I know Louise’s vegetable soup recipe.”
A smirk tugging at her lips, Holly glanced over her shoulder, toward the stove where he stood stirred said soup, sleeves cuffed, white shirt untucked over faded jeans. “Among other considerations.”
His even white teeth flashed in a grin, the lighthearted expression clutching at her heart. Oh, he was serious as ever, but something had loosened between them, maybe even loosened in him, after their conversation Saturday night.
Things had definitely loosened after Sunday morning.
Despite his teasing, they hadn’t spent the day in bed.
She’d missed Sunday school, though, and they’d almost been late for church.
Afterward, they’d had lunch with her mama.
He’d been unbearable, too, giving her a sly grin every time Mama looked away from him.
They’d watched a movie, some convoluted mess with subtitles and that Kuwaiti actor he liked from the alien movie, then spent the night in their respective beds because he needed “to be ready for work Monday morning.”
Monday, he’d grilled at her place, but refused to stay the night because he was filling in on route and needed “to be headed out bright and early.”
It was like dating the grown up version of his motivated high-school self, the one with the planner, who wrote everything down and never missed an assignment . . . but also the one who smiled with real joy and looked on the world with real hope.
Ingredients laid out for two trays of oven-baked grilled pimento cheese sandwiches, she studied him, eyeing the play of muscle under the fine cotton of his shirt. “You know I’m going to try and seduce you into my bed tonight.”
“I might let you.” He paused, mid-stir, and shrugged, a rueful tinge to his smile. “Missed you the last couple of nights.”
The admission warmed her, her entire body softening, melting. “I missed you, too.”
He laid his spoon aside and gestured at the island. “Want help with those?”
She passed him the container of pimento cheese. “Of course.”
In tandem, they worked up an assembly line. Holly watched him brush softened butter over the top slices of bread. Oh, she loved this, having him in her space, making this deliberate life with him.
“Where are we going to live? Here or the cabin?” The question burst free before she’d fully realized her brain was forming it. Well, she was in now.
Offset spatula in one hand, he froze, studying her with a carefully blank expression. He blinked, throat moving with a swallow.
“Well.” His voice emerged a little hoarse, but even. “I imagine that would be here, since we agreed we wanted a family and there’s more room.”
His talking about wanting a family made it so real, and the memory of him holding Laura, singing with her, laughing, flashed in her brain.
He was good with his friends’ children, patient and kind and caring, so making the leap to how he’d be a fantastic daddy with their own children was incredibly easy.
Her ovaries drooled.
Pulling herself from a mini-fantasy of him holding a Calvert baby – they all looked alike, dark-haired with those deep brown eyes – she attempted to focus on the question she herself had posed.
“I know you love the cabin.” He’d crafted the home, board by board, and the place dripped with his personality. She didn’t want to cost him any of that.
“I don’t have to give it up.” He shrugged. “We can use it on the weekend sometimes.”
“A vacation home five minutes away.”
One corner of his mouth rose, a hot light in his gaze. “A private getaway for date nights when we have a sitter.”
She plopped on a stool, staring at him. “We’re really having this conversation.”
“Well, yeah.” With exaggerated slowness, he cast a glance over either shoulder. “I don’t see anyone else–”
“Colton.” Such a tease.
“Hey, you were the one who started the whole more-than-friends deal.” He straightened his shoulders. “But, yeah, we’re talking about what our future looks like.”
Pleasure zinged through her, soul-deep and stronger than the physical satisfaction he brought her in bed.
Shoot, that was great and she loved being his lover, but he wanted more than just sex with her.
He wanted a future, wanted her, as badly as she wanted the same with him.
The sheer joy of that made her chafe at his we’re-taking-this-slow dictate.
He spread butter across the last slice of bread on his tray, slanting a quizzical glance at her. “What’s that look?”
Shaking her head and giving in to a giddy smile, Holly lifted her hands and let them fall. “I’m happy.”
“Okay.” His brows dipped into a vee, lips twisted. “You’re always happy.”
“No.” She held his gaze, seeking the words to adequately communicate what he brought to her life. “I strive to be satisfied with my life. But being with you? Talking about a future with you? That makes me really, deeply happy, Colt.”
“Yeah?” That wonderful grin, the rare one she craved, lit up his face, lighting her up inside like the glow of Christmas lights. “Me, too.”
Hearing him admit he was happy with her, because of her, flushed her with pleasure all over again, so she found herself smiling at him across the island, the same giddy smile she’d worn back when they’d been kids and he’d been assigned as her escort for the homecoming court spirit parade.
Shocked at having been chosen — she had plenty of friends, but was by no stretch of imagination one of Chandler-Haynes’s it girls — she’d been mildly terror-stricken by the looming prospect of walking in the parade.
She’d been ridiculously excited to have that forty-five minutes with him, to have him teasing and laughing with her along the route, so she forgot about being so visible.
Those simple moments filled with easy joy remained one of her favorite memories.
The future opened up before her, suffused with him and everything they could have together, and she could hardly stand the bubbling anticipation.
Maybe he was right – they could take things slow because she could trust him, because he wanted and treasured her, because she didn’t have to fight every single second they were together.
“You’re doing some serious thinking over there.
” Amusement laced his voice as he turned away to preheat the oven.
They’d settled on simple and straightforward for tonight – no appetizers, simply soup and grilled sandwiches and snickerdoodles for dessert.
With Scott and Wally, who didn’t like Scott, in attendance, the evening would be fraught enough without trying to pull off multiple courses.
Lips pursed into a helpless smile, she shook her head once more. “Just thinking about us.”
He darted one of those inscrutable looks at her, although the impassive expression didn’t hide how pleased he was at her reply. “Huh.”
Biting her tongue, she grinned and looked away. How could that monosyllable say so much?
Stepping to the end of the island, he rested his elbows on the marble and leaned in, serious dark gaze fixed on hers. He tapped a finger against the countertop. “I am definitely the one getting the better end of this deal.”
She tangled a finger in his collar to draw him in for a kiss. “Mmm, really?”
“Oh, yeah.” The hot light gleamed in his eyes once more. “My future wife is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Her breath caught. She started to chase down that “hottest” moniker, because she’d seen Tyler, seen a few of the women he’d gone out with over the years – hottest was clearly hyperbolic.
But sincerity rang in the teasing statement, and her ability to breathe tangled up with the whole “future wife” part.
Lifting her chin, she strove for a playful tone when she could barely get air into her lungs. “Is that a proposal, Colt Calvert?”
“No, more of an acknowledgement.” He tapped the end of her nose, and she swatted his hand away. “You’ll know when I’m proposing.”
“Really.”
“Yeah, there’ll be a ring.” His broad shoulders moved in an easy shrug. “Not to mention, we’ll have been dating more than three weeks.”
She slumped under the slight weight of those words. So she was the kind of girl who knew what she wanted.
This time around, anyway.
Was she rushing them?
“Listen.” He picked up her left hand, rubbing his thumb over her bare ring finger. “I’ve figured out this need you have for security—”
She made a wounded sound in her throat. He made her sound so needy.
Lord, was she rushing them and clinging, too? A cringe worked over her.
“Holly.” At the quiet command in his voice, she lifted her gaze to his, mostly serious, a lot affectionate, a tad amused. “I’m committed, okay? To you and what we’re building together.”
“Ugh.” She couldn’t make herself tug away from that light hold, the strong connection of her hand in his. “You make me sound like—”
She snapped her mouth shut before the name that stood for everything selfish and ugly made it past her lips. Allison had defined clingy and controlling. Tick hadn’t been able to take two steps without her being all over him, wanting to know where he’d been, what he’d been doing, who he'd been with.
She’d smothered him and smoothed it all over with sex and manipulation because, my Lord, Lamar had been a naive, moonstruck little lamb.
Colt lifted a brow, waiting.
“Like a clinging vine.” She stared him down. “I’m not.”
“Of course you’re not.” His fingers flexed about hers. “You think I don’t want to know you’re committed to what we’re making here?”
“I am.” She released a slow exhale, aware of the tension trembling in her abdominal wall.
Why did this feel like the aftermath of a confrontation?
She’d experienced that shakiness before, after Allison confronted her alone in a restroom at school, cornered her without warning and demanded she stay away from Lamar.
As if.
He made another pass over her ring finger. “We’re gonna be fine, Holly.”