8 | Lurkin about
CLEMENTINE
*PRESENT DAY*
The water is warm enough that it doesn’t sting when I dive under, but cool enough to chase off the July heat. Grady and Jace are already halfway across the creek, racing each other with more splashing than actual swimming.
Their girlfriends, Emma and Harper, stretch out on the rocks, legs dangling in the water, laughing every time one of the boys tries to show off.
They’ve been nothing but sweet to me, pulling me right into their circle like we grew up side by side. I’m grateful. I need that kind of easy girl energy after the week I’ve had.
“Clementine!” Emma waves me over to the shallows, her voice bright. “Come sit with us. My cousin Sawyer’s here—he says he knows you. You two should catch up.”
My stomach knots. Catch up? As in, ‘hi, remember when we were dating and you fucked my best friend?’
Sawyer’s standing in the shade of a cottonwood, arms crossed, eyes locked on me like he’s trying to decide between coming closer and backing away.
I don’t move. I just splash water at Grady when he pops up, hair plastered to his forehead. “You’re losing, champ,” I call, forcing lightness into my tone.
“Not for long,” he shoots back, lunging at Jace.
By the time I pull myself onto the rocks near Emma and Harper, Sawyer’s already making his way over.
“Clem,” he says, too familiar. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
“What part?” I murmur, low enough the girls don’t catch it. “The lunch, or the cheating?”
He swallows, scratching his head. “Eh… both.”
Before I can conjure a sharp retort, a shadow falls across us. I don’t even have to look up to know who it is—the prickle across my scalp is a dead giveaway.
Wells trails a step behind him, but it’s Colt who pulls every bit of air from my lungs. Sun-browned skin, worn jeans, the brim of his hat throwing his eyes into shade until he tips his chin just enough to look at me.
“Hope we’re not intrudin’,” he drawls, that slow, unhurried cadence sliding under my skin.
“You’re fine,” Grady calls, still chest-deep in the water. “Everyone comes down here.”
Colt’s gaze lingers on me for one beat too long. Long enough for Sawyer to notice.
Sawyer shifts, posturing. “Didn’t know you guys were comin’.”
“Just here to cool off,” Colt says easily, though the undercurrent is there, steady as the creek itself. He doesn’t look at Sawyer—his eyes are on me.
I sit up straighter, deliberately dragging my hair over one shoulder so the wet ends cling to my chest. His eyes track the movement, just a flicker, but I catch it.
“You always lurk around creeks bothering unsuspecting women?” I ask, shielding my eyes against the setting sun.
Colt’s mouth curves just enough to make me want to slap it off him. Or kiss it. Maybe both. “Reckon I only bother the ones worth botherin’.”
I arch a brow. “Lucky me.”
He tips his head, grinning. “Lucky me, actually.” He’s so damn sure of himself it makes heat curl low in my belly.
Sawyer’s still hovering nearby, but Colt doesn’t even acknowledge him, which I can’t help but appreciate. His entire focus is me—has been since the second he walked up.
Maybe it’s the fact that he ignored me for most of my childhood, but catching his attention still makes me feel a weird kind of powerful.
I push to my feet, water beading down my skin as I rise. My foot slips on the rocks, and I mutter something incoherent under my breath as I carefully climb down, lowering myself into the creek.
Cool water closes in around me, sliding over overheated skin, and I swim toward Jace. He cocks a brow, glancing between me and Colton, who’s still on the bank, glowing like he’s carved out of the sun itself.
“You good?” Jace asks.
“Mhm,” I hum, snatching the tennis ball from his hand and winging it at Grady. It smacks the side of his head.
“Hey!” Grady whirls.
I duck behind Jace, giggling, water sloshing around us.
“It was Clem!” Jace yells, instantly selling me out.
“Traitor!” I shriek, already paddling away as Grady launches forward, splashing as he comes straight for me. His hand closes around my ankle, and I squeal as he yanks me under. The water swallows me whole before I bob back up, sputtering and laughing.
“You’re not gonna take it easy on your poor cousin?” I pant, slicking my hair back with both hands. “I’m not on my creek-swimming A-game anymore.”
Grady grins, ruffling my wet hair until it’s a wreck again. “Don’t dish it if you can’t take it, Clem.”
He kicks off after the ball, leaving me floating, breathless and smiling, when I feel it—the shift in the current as Colton slides in, cutting through the creek like he owns it.
His presence rolls over me, quiet but commanding, and when I turn, he’s already there—too close for comfort. Orange sunlight glints off the droplets in his hair, his hat sits abandoned on the bank.
My breath stutters when his eyes lock on mine. I turn abruptly, swimming for the water line.
I brace my palms against the slick rock, pushing myself up, the water sliding along my thighs as I haul myself out. My muscles burn with the effort, but the thought of stretching out in the late sun keeps me moving. I’m half out when Emma’s voice cuts sharp across the water.
“Snake!”
The word slices through the laughter, through the splash of Jace shoving Grady under. My stomach plunges. I don’t see it at first—then I do.
It’s just inches from where my hand is braced, coiled along the wet stone. Its dark body gleams in the orange light, head lifted like it’s waiting for me to make a move.
I can’t breathe—I’m frozen in place. My chest goes tight, panic clawing up my throat.
“Don’t move.” Colt’s voice cuts through the panic. He’s closer than I realized, standing in the waist-deep water just behind me. “Stay real still, Tiny.”
My fingers twitch against the rock, but then his hand is on me—firm at my waist. A jolt goes through me, and I gasp softly.
“Easy now,” Colt murmurs. His other hand slides up too, caging my ribs. He eases me back from the rock inch by inch, his chest solid against my spine, the current bending around us.
I sink back into the water until I’m in his lap, the creek lapping at my shoulders.
“I got you,” he murmurs against my ear, his breath hot against my wet skin.
I thank my lucky stars for the water hiding the way my nipples pebble through the thin fabric of my bikini.
Goddamn him. Why does he still have this effect on me?
I remember being sixteen, watching him work shirtless under the sun—roped muscles flexing as he hefted bales of hay like they weighed nothing.
He barely noticed me then. Just Tessa’s little friend, four years younger, hanging around all the time.
If I was lucky, I’d get a tossed-out “outta my way, Tiny” or a distracted “whatcha doin’ here?”
That was it. That was all I got, and still, I treasured every word.
Later, when I started bringing Sawyer around, Colt buried himself in the ranch. Their dad’s health was failing, and at just twenty-four, he was expected to carry on the legacy. And when their dad passed away, I wasn’t even there.
I was in the city, preparing to move into Dad’s new life with his girlfriend while Tessa’s world shattered back home. Sawyer was there, though. He comforted her—and then he did much, much more than that.
They never even apologized either—she blamed me for not being there when she needed me most. And he chose her side—of course he did.
Colton’s hand slides over my stomach, dragging me back into the present. His palm splays low, fingers grazing the hem of my bottoms, and I feel the solid press of him beneath me, thick and insistent against my ass. Heat surges through my core.
I snap my hands over his wrists, squeezing harder than necessary.
“Thanks,” I bite out, pushing him off. “You saved me from one snake. Don’t go trying to shove another one into me.”
I push through the water, as fast as I can manage.
“Here, Clem!” Grady’s on the bank, arm outstretched. “Snake’s gone!”
“Hardly,” I mutter, paddling toward him. I grab his hand, shielding my face from the water dripping off him with my other. He hauls me onto the rocks, steadying me when my footing slips.
“You okay?”
I huff, wringing water from my hair. “Just fighting off all the predators this place keeps throwing at me.” I yank my towel around me, clutching it to my chest.
Grady grins. “Weird, though, right? Seeing him back after everything? I mean, you guys were like… in love.”
I scoff. “Please. We were together for barely two months.”
Grady cocks a brow. “Didn’t you date for, like, four years?”
I choke, sputtering. “Sawyer! Yeah—yes. It’s… pretty weird, I guess.”
“Who’d you think I meant?”
Heat prickles up my neck. I turn away to hide it. “No one. I just… forgot.”
Grady chuckles, catching me as I slip on the rocks trying to get away. “Ah. Colton, then.”
I wriggle free. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Mhm.” His look is way too knowing. “That actually explains a lot.”
I roll my eyes, reaching for my clothes before he can push further.
My goodbye to the crew is rushed, half-hearted. Then I’m bee-lining for the car, my bundle of clothes tucked under my arm.
I yank the door open, slam it harder than intended, and jam the key into the ignition. The engine growls to life. I shift the car into gear, hit the gas, the tires spit mud—and I go nowhere. The wheels just spin, sinking deeper.
“Perfect,” I snap, trying again. The car lurches, rocks, and sinks further. I curse under my breath.
“Neutral, Clem. I’ll handle it.” Colt is already walking toward me, dripping wet and unfairly gorgeous.
I roll my eyes. “Of course. My knight in… swim trunks.”
I glare at him through the windshield, but he’s already braced against the bumper, shoulders squared, muscles flexing. I shift into neutral and fold my arms, watching him.
There’s a grunt, a ripple of muscle, and just like that, my car’s free. He steps back, mud splattered up his legs, chest heaving, and then he walks up to my window. He rests his forearm on the doorframe and looks at me.
“Let me guess,” I say dryly. “You want a kiss as payment.”
He smirks. “I wouldn’t say no. But I was hopin’ you’d come in for ridin’ lessons instead.”
I arch a brow. “Me riding you, you mean?”
His laugh is low, full-bodied. “Now there’s an idea.” He schools his features, dropping his voice. “I meant horseback. You used to love it—don’t let one fall steal that from you.”
I rub my temples. “Christ, Colton, you don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when it’s you. Please, Tiny. One lesson.”
The way he says it—rough and pleading—tightens my throat. I huff, snap my gaze back to the road. “Fine. One.”
His chin dips in a single, certain nod. Triumph flashes in his eyes. “One’s all I need.”
Before he can see the blush crawling up my neck, I throw the car into drive and peel out, mud spitting behind me.
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