Bite Marks and Bruises #3
Sally nods. “I think there’s about fifty of us at this point.”
“Feels like it, right?”
“The way we keep adding to the family, it really will hit fifty at some point. My mom is living her best life cooking for such a crowd. What about y’all?”
“The usual. We’ll be at Mom and Dad’s.”
I blink at the hollow feeling that spreads inside my chest. The thought of going home to deal with my Mom and Dad for Thanksgiving—all the work I’ll be doing to make up for the fact that Dad and my brothers don’t lift a finger to help, all the resentment Mom harbors that she’ll take out on me—
Yeah, I’m dreading it, as awful as that sounds. What I’d give to be able to spend Thanksgiving with the Wallaces. I can only imagine how joyful and fun and easy the holiday is in their home.
Then again, Colton isn’t exactly seeing eye to eye with his sister. And I’m pretty sure he and I are still committed to hating each other, this morning’s sweet ride and him opening up to me notwithstanding.
Dean looks at me. “Come see, Miss Lainey. It’s a miracle.”
My knees are Jell-O as I cautiously approach them, mostly from the way Colton’s shirt sticks to him like a second skin. It allows me to see the way his back muscles bunch and release as he gently runs his hand over the foal’s legs.
Why does this guy have to be such a jerk but also so unbelievably sexy?
“You’re a strong one, ain’t you, sweetheart?” He’s using that voice again. The one that’s almost a soft, gentle purr. “Coming back from that surgery was no small thing.”
Sally rises, pulling off her gloves as she turns her smile on me. “You must be Lainey! I’ve heard all about you. I’m sorry I haven’t introduced myself yet—we’ve been so busy with calving season. Pleasure to meet you.”
I take the hand she holds out. “Pleasure is all mine. You sound like quite the miracle worker.”
Colton rises too, wiping his hands as he stares me down. “Doc Sally does the kind of work that saves lives.”
Refusing to take the bait—he’s highlighting the importance of Sally’s work as a way to show mine isn’t important at all—I grin. “Amazing. Truly.”
“You’re the marketing expert, right?” Sally asks. “Billie speaks so highly of you.”
I look pointedly at Colton. “That’s one Wallace who appreciates what I do.”
“Hey.” His eyes glimmer. “I got an appreciation for the things you do.”
He’s not talking about my branding work. I blush so furiously I have to look away.
We chat with Sally for a while. She’s got an interesting story about turning down a big job at one of the nation’s top veterinary hospitals in New York to work here in Hartsville on the Wallace Ranch.
“I discovered that what made a job fulfilling for me was working with people I love,” she explains as she runs a hand down the foal’s flank. “I needed to feel like I was making a real impact on the community, and that wasn’t the case for the job I was offered in New York.”
That has my wheels turning. I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve felt so much pressure to land a well-paid job in a prestigious field that I hadn’t really thought about what might actually fulfill me.
All I know is I’m itching to get back to my notebook. This morning’s ride has given me so many ideas for the branding package I’m putting together. The colors, the landscapes. It’s all been so inspiring.
“I’m still challenged here, don’t get me wrong,” she continues. “I just wanted to love my life too.”
I nod. “I like the idea of those things not being mutually exclusive concepts.”
“I really am living the dream,” Sally says, her eyes shining with happiness. “I’m lucky.”
“You’re smart,” Colton says. “And you ain’t afraid to ask for what you want. Not sure that luck has all that much to do with it, Sal.”
She grins. “Thanks for saying that. Anyway, I gotta run. Lainey, it was great meeting you.” Pulling me in for a hug, she gives me a squeeze. “By the way, I don’t know how long you’re staying in Hartsville, but I’m in a band that plays at the bar downtown Friday nights. You should come.”
“The Rattler is for degenerates and drunks,” Dean replies.
Colton chuckles. “Someone’s been hanging out with Dale.”
“Pawpaw is the best.”
Colton shakes his head. “The things you remember.”
“Only the important stuff.” Dean glances over his shoulder at his daddy and grins.
Colton presses a noisy kiss to Dean’s little cheek. “You’re cute.”
“I know.”
“But let’s not say that again, all right?” Colton glances at me. “Especially not when we’re in polite company.”
I’m not always polite, I want to say.
His eyes dance. You handcuffed me. I know.
After we see Sally off, Colton and Dean drive me back to my apartment. With the windows rolled down and a Johnny Cash album turned up, the short ride is actually enjoyable.
“So, Lainey,” Dean says when we pull up to my door. “When are we gonna play with my LEGO bricks? And draw together again? Remember you said we’d do that stuff?”
Colton glances at his son in the rearview mirror. “Dean, c’mon. We just took up Miss Lainey’s whole morning—”
“It’s all right,” I say with a laugh. “I’d love to play with your LEGO bricks. Maybe sometime this week?”
“Deal,” Dean replies.
My gaze sweeps over the glove box as I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door. It could be fun to break open that sinner’s chest Colton keeps in there. Wonder if he’s added the handcuffs?
Not like it matters. I feel stupid thinking we’ll hook up again, even if he did mention wanting another round.
Even if he was decently kind today.
“Thank y’all so much for the best morning I’ve had in a long time.” I glance over my shoulder. “Dean, we’ll play, I promise.”
Colton’s got his wrist draped over the steering wheel. “See you around?”
I look at him. “I’m trying to stay out of the way.”
One side of his mouth kicks up. “Since when do you ever listen to me?”
The way this man maintains extended eye contact is…something else. I’m smiling too when I reply, “Never. See ya.”
I don’t realize how little I’ve thought about Mom or my family in general all morning until I’m at the kitchen table, playing around with color schemes in my graphic design software.
Is it sad if I feel good focusing on something other than my family? Because when I’m not thinking about my parents or worried about what they might think of the choices I’m making, I actually enjoy myself.
I’m just doing what makes me happy. And right now, that’s creating.
So I create, and I think about handsome cowboys while I do it.
Turns out that’s a hell of a lot more fun.
Maybe more fulfilling too.