Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THIS WAS ONE of the few instances I’d bite the bullet and stick a twenty in Dominick’s swear jar, because the words flying through my mind couldn’t adequately capture the surreality of the situation without a mountain of four-letter ones sprinkled in.
Did Colt flirt with me just to prove he knew how? And, more importantly, why had it worked ?
I shook that thought away with an aggravated huff.
It hadn’t worked. I was surprised he’d do something so spontaneous and out of character, is all.
This didn’t prove anything. And even if it did prove he could flirt, it just meant his personality drove the women away after he managed to convince them to agree to a date.
Satisfied that I’d regained my wits, I stormed after him. “That’s debatable, for one. And for two, landing a woman and keeping her are two different things.”
His sigh gave away his position, leading me to the closet in the master bedroom where he was hanging up his tie and putting away his shoes. “And I suppose you have ideas for how you’re going to help with that, too, huh?”
“Yep.” I grinned, choosing to ignore his aggravation. “ Something must happen between convincing the girl to go out with you and convincing her to go steady that makes her change her mind.”
“Go steady?”
I tipped my chin up. “It’s a thing.”
“Yeah, in the fifties, maybe.”
“See, this is why you’re single. You’re too judgmental.”
He shot me an unimpressed look. “The irony of you telling me that isn’t lost on me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He brushed past me, only stopping when I followed him like the annoying puppy I was. “It means you think you know everything about me because I dress a certain way or have certain habits—none of which are harmful, by the way, yet you can’t go a single day without harping on them.”
“No I—” My argument died in my throat.
As much as it pained me to admit—and it pained me greatly—he wasn’t exactly wrong. Sure, everything he’d done in the past few months seemed to prove my conclusion right, but that was before I’d told him about Dominick. Now…
Well, now I wasn’t sure what to think. He still drove me up the wall, but I wasn’t as confident in my assessment of him as I was before. And that rattled me.
“You’re right,” I finally said. Each word tasted rancid on my tongue, but I forced them out. “I did think I had you pegged—and with plenty of evidence to back it up—but now I think I might have… misjudged you. A tiny bit. Which is why I want a truce.”
His eyes narrowed, flicking over my face.
Whether he was checking for sincerity or signs of psychosis, I couldn’t be sure, but it was a toss-up which one he’d find.
And honestly? I couldn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed, I wouldn’t trust that he’d truly want to bury the hatchet, no matter how temporarily.
“If it makes you feel better, we can go back to hating each other after the assignment,” I offered. “But aren’t you at least a little tired of constantly butting heads?”
He crossed his arms. “Are you ?”
Was I? Cataloging my grievances against him was a lot more effort now that we lived together and constantly had to interact, even indirectly.
I was lonely and isolated in this assignment.
He at least made contact with McBride one way or another every weekday.
I had no one. And, as much as the Lex from two weeks ago would’ve gagged me for admitting as much, I preferred Colt’s company over none at all.
“Honestly, yeah. I am.” I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Hating you is exhausting.”
“And here I thought it came so naturally to you.”
I snorted. “Funny, I think I can say the same about you.”
He angled his head, lips pursed as he studied me with his contemplative face. “I used to think so, too.”
“Used to?” I brightened, my body feeling lighter than it should’ve from such a vague admission. “Does that mean you accept the truce?”
“I think the waters are a little too turbulent to be building any bridges between us, even now.”
“This is because I threatened your clothes iron, isn’t it?”
He looked heavenward as if asking for patience, but I swear the corners of his mouth inched up. “It’s because you’re still you, and I’m still me.”
“So?”
He leaned against the wall, giving me a visceral flashback of his flirting demonstration that had no business flipping my stomach the way it did. “ So , how will I know you’ll actually honor the truce? You’re unpredictable.”
“Compared to you, anything is unpredictable,” I mumbled.
“See?” He pushed off from the wall and ambled toward the kitchen. “You can’t go five minutes without a snarky remark.”
I sighed and followed him. “I’m sorry, okay? You make it so easy, but I promise I’ll try my best to keep my remarks to myself.”
I leaned against the counter, smiling my sunniest smile as he rifled through the fridge for the ingredients he’d need for dinner. Same routine every night like clockwork. No wonder he thought I was unpredictable.
“See? Best behavior.” I motioned toward my winning smile, ignoring his unimpressed side-eye. “Test me out. I can take it.”
He cleared his throat and looked away, his voice still coming out a bit strained. “I’m not sure how you expect me to do that.”
I refused to let my smile slip. The fact that he was considering it was already a win, since I figured I’d have to do a whole lot more convincing for him to even do this much. “Insult me. Tell me what you really think. All the reasons you hate me. Let’s clear the air now.”
“That seems extremely unproductive.”
I placed my hands over his to stop the dinner preparation, squishing the poor, innocent veggies underneath us.
He went deathly still the moment we touched, and I forced myself to keep going.
This wasn’t any different than holding hands after Lamaze, short of the fact that no one was watching us as far as we knew.
And Heaven knows it was purely platonic, since getting myself to declare a ceasefire between us was already pushing my limits.
“Some things don’t have to be productive to be worthwhile.” I tipped my chin up, daring him to rise to the challenge. He’d never backed down before, so why would he do so now? “Why do you hate me, Colt?”
“I never said I hated you,” he murmured, staring at our hands.
I snorted. “You never had to. Since the day we met, we’ve been at odds with each other. It’s like you took one look at me and decided you knew me.”
“Like you did to me?” he fired back, pulling his hands free and crossing his arms. “The first words out of your mouth were an insult, and that has rarely changed over the last two months.”
“I—”
Again, I stopped short. The memory of my first day at the field office flew past my eyes.
Every painful detail, each inconvenience stacked onto an already hard day.
Even now, I felt justified, especially considering his dismissal and condescending attitude toward me that hadn’t changed much, either.
But pointing that out—however true it was—wouldn’t help anything. We’d never move past it if I never let it go. And then there was the uncomfortable truth that his first words to me, while untactful, weren’t unkind. I really had been the one to start it.
I swallowed hard. “I had my reasons for acting the way I did, but I shouldn’t have taken them out on you. I’m… sorry.”
The apology came out as smoothly as a milkshake made of gravel, but at least I’d managed to get it out at all.
He studied me for an excruciating minute, dark eyes flicking over my face.
When he finally spoke, his voice was subdued.
“Never in a million years did I think I’d get an apology from you.
” He shifted uneasily, a light blush coloring his freckled cheeks.
“And, if I’m being honest, I think I owe you one as well. ”
Considering all the animosity between us over the weeks, he probably owed a lot more than one, but I wasn’t about to argue. One was better than nothing.
“At first I thought you were the type to flirt your way to the top like an agent I’d worked with in the past, and I—like you—thought I had evidence to back it up.
” More shifting, this time accompanied by an awkward tug on his shirt collar.
“But then you started pulling more hours than even I did, and I realized?—”
He shook his head like an Etch-a-Sketch, as if that could erase whatever he’d been about to say. “The point is, I’m sorry for jumping to that conclusion about you. For all the corners you cut in your personal life, your work ethic is infuriatingly solid.”
A myriad of emotions washed through me, from outrage and indignation that he’d think I would be the type to sleep my way to the top, to confusion as to what could’ve possibly led him to believe that, to more indignation at his opinion about my personal life, to satisfaction that he’d actually apologized to me about something.
It was a trip, I’ll tell you that much. And not exactly an enjoyable one.
A slow grin spread across my face, which was apparently alarming, based on how he retreated a step.
The thought that he, like so many others, negated my hard work by attributing my success to something else hurt.
But, unlike the other colleagues who’d teased me for “dancing my way through life,” Colt had realized he was wrong and apologized for it.
Something I never would’ve thought him capable of before now.
“Why, Colt, I do believe you just gave me a compliment,” I teased.
“No need to make a big fuss about it,” he grumbled, returning to fishing the vegetables out of their bags and lining them up on the cutting board.
I stopped him again by placing my hands on his. And, just like before, he froze at my touch. Not exactly an ego boost, but whatever.
“So… truce?”
He sighed, though he didn’t pull his hands away yet. “If I say yes, will you let me finish this?”
“Uh, actually, I had different plans for dinner.”
He arched a brow. “I’m not sure our truce could survive a night of your cooking.”
“Okay, rude. It was one piece of toast, Colt. One.”
He chuckled, gracing me with a small smile. One of the few he’d ever directed my way. And, yeah, maybe it made my brain buffer for a second. I’ll never say.
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure I can still smell the smoke when I close my eyes.”
I stuck my tongue out. “It wasn’t even that bad.”
“Are you kidding? Colleen was seconds away from calling the fire department.”
I stifled a laugh at the mental image. I’d found out over the past few days that our neighbor had a habit of poking her head over the fence whenever she thought one of us might be in the backyard while she was.
As much as I wanted to chalk it up to being friendly, I was pretty sure I also saw her curtains move whenever I walked out our front door.
Nothing happened in the neighborhood without her knowing about it.
“See, I’d believe that, but we both know she’d come rushing in herself just to see what was going on.”
“Fair enough.”
He started sliding his hands out from under mine, which I stopped by tightening my grip. A mixture of confusion and concern furrowed his brow, which I ignored.
“I’ll handle dinner.” At his frown, I elaborated. “I won’t cook it myself, don’t worry. I’m sure you had something undeniably yummy planned, but today we’re going to be spontaneous and order pizza and watch a movie. To celebrate our truce.”
“Lex…”
I finally let him go, raising my own hands in a surrender and show of good faith. But if he went for the celery again, all bets were off. “Think of it like a date to sell our cover more if you need to.”
The thought of looking at it as a date with him rather than an attempt to keep my sanity made my stomach twist and my heart bounce in all sorts of uncomfortable ways. He could think of it like that for the sake of our cover if he wanted to, but I certainly wouldn’t.
He hummed noncommittally, his eyes narrowed.
“I promise it won’t kill you to break from routine.” And, in case he still wasn’t sold, I added, “Either way, I’m going to eat pizza and watch a movie, so the only thing that would change is that you won’t have to cook, and you might actually enjoy yourself for once.”
After another long moment of consideration, he sighed and rewrapped the vegetables. “Alright.”
“You’ll do it? Truce and pizza night?”
The corner of his mouth edged up. “I hope I don’t come to regret this, but yes. I’ll do it.”