Chapter Ten
Colt parked next to Holly’s SUV in his parents’ drive, grimacing at his sweaty palm on the gearshift.
Her having lunch with the guy didn’t necessarily mean anything, but he’d carried the stress and nerves with him all day after their text exchange.
She’d come to mean one hell of a lot in the last few weeks, and the idea of her leaving him scared him to death.
Ralph notwithstanding, he wasn’t used to good things in his adult life, and he’d lived for three weeks now waiting for her to change her mind. So, yeah. He was strung out tonight.
And they were having dinner — pizza of all things — with his parents.
And he was late.
Sue would have a fit, and he was not in the mood. At least Holly was already here. Mama adored her, and she had this way of soothing hard moments when she was around. He was grateful as hell for her. A wry grin tugged at his mouth.
If he had to sleep with her to keep her around, he might just make the sacrifice.
He’d come close the night before, had had to fight the urge to simply slide up her body and take her after he’d taken her apart with his mouth and his hand.
He kept telling himself if they were real, they’d last, and if so, they had plenty of time to go to bed together.
He’d started to believe they would last, too.
Until today, when she’d texted him she was having lunch with Scott-freaking-Barlow.
With Ralph at his heels – he hadn’t seen the mutt all day so Mama would have to deal – he strode for the side door. When he opened it, Ralph rushed ahead, barking his fool head off, his ruckus followed by Holly’s sparkling laugh and his mama’s wry “Hello, Ralph.”
Well, that was something.
He stepped into the kitchen, and Holly smiled at him, sitting at the island with his mama.
Sprawled on the floor in front of the range, Ralph nudging her with wild glee, Polo thumped her tail at him.
Pizza boxes waited with paper plates on the counter next to the range, and both of the women in his life drank out of blue plastic cups.
His mama, drinking out of a Solo cup. With two dogs in her house and nary a complaint.
What the holy hell?
“Hey.” He leaned across the island to buss Sue’s cheek, then dropped a quick kiss on Holly’s lips. She pinched his shoulder before he straightened. “Where’s Daddy?”
“He ran over to your grandaddy’s to look at your grandma’s car.
” Mama waved a dismissive hand, like Daddy not being home for a meal wasn’t a big deal.
A palm planted on the island, Colt ran his tongue over his teeth.
Huh. He didn’t know how to live in this particular paradigm, where all the rules were out the window.
A stack of blue cups sat near the refrigerator, and he dared to cross and pick one up, filling it with ice and water. He gestured at the glossy photo sheets spread over the marble. “What’s all that?”
“My vanity.” Holly wrinkled her nose, mouth pinched with chagrin. “Photos I took during Tick’s wedding weekend. I’m thinking of putting them together into a photobook for them as a Christmas gift, although I know they had a professional photographer.”
“That’s a great idea.” He kept his gaze averted to one side of the photo array.
“I told her the same thing, that it was a sweet idea and Lamar will love it.” Mama lifted her cup for a long sip. Lord, please let that be water or tea and not wine.
Please.
Holly patted the stool next to her. “So come help me pick which ones to use.”
“Oh, no.” He held both hands aloft, cup in one. Maybe she wouldn’t notice his fingers were a little shaky. “You don’t want me involved in that. Are we waiting on D to eat?”
“No.” Mama picked up a glossy sheet of paper. “Holly and I already ate. You go ahead.”
Sweet . . . wow. Holy freaking hell.
“Okay.” Thankful for the excuse to move away from the pictorial record of his cousin’s life, the one he had no part in, he flipped open the top pizza box, found an all-meat and grimaced.
Who’d come up with the idea to put ground beef on a pizza, anyway?
The second box held pepperoni, sausage and black olives, and he nearly groaned with relief.
Lunch had been a while away, and his appetite had been shit, knowing she was with Barlow.
“Hmm, I like this one.” Holly slid a photo to one side and examined the others with a critical eye. Colt propped on the counter behind her, paper plate in hand. Her braid bobbed with each movement, and a grin tugged at his mouth. That was kind of cute. “What about that one, Sue?”
He choked. When had she dropped the Mrs. before that Sue?
Obviously, he’d stepped into a parallel universe. Maybe in this one, he hadn’t screwed everything to hell.
“I like this one better, where you can see the sun through her veil.” Mama’s face softened. “And that’s sweet, the way he’s smiling at her.”
“He’s always looking at her like that.” Holly added the photo to her “keep” pile. “He’s a big ol’ goober around her.”
The idea tugged the center of Colt’s chest, hard. The pull made him want to step forward, take a look into Tick’s life, see for himself that he was happy and all right.
Colt didn’t have that privilege anymore.
He hadn’t even laid eyes on Tick in months, maybe over a year.
Chewing a bite of Nick’s pizza that suddenly tasted like sawdust, he tried to remember, casting about for the slimmest of meetings.
Not Easter, because Tick had brought his family but there’d been no Sunday services after that tornado went through the night before.
He’d spent Christmas in Texas, and Thanksgiving solely at his mama’s.
That weekend before he went to Texas, maybe.
Yeah, Tick had been at church, and Colt had glimpsed him in the foyer between Sunday School and services, coming out from the young single men’s class upstairs, the one Jay Mackey and Scott Barlow attended, unlike Colt, who hadn’t set foot in Sunday School since the Sunday before Will died.
Even pleasing Mama couldn’t make him do that.
He choked down the pizza and chased it with water.
The half a slice left on his plate seemed insurmountable, but eating meant he could ignore the love fest over those photos.
He didn’t need to see. He knew Tick’s daughter looked like him, looked a lot like Del’s daughters, knew his wife was a brunette Aunt Lenora called lovely, that Louise adored her and thought she was perfect for him.
He wouldn’t know her if he passed her on the street, and really it was better that way.
To be honest, he craved being connected to Lamar, missed him like a violently amputated limb, phantom pain and all, but come on .
. . everyone knew David messed up when he looked upon Bathsheba, that Lot’s wife shouldn’t have turned and looked back.
He deserved what he got, and what he needed to do was keep his gaze on his own life, not look dead on at Tick’s.
“Colt.” Mama’s voice jolted him from the reverie, her tone making it clear she’d called him more than once. “Are you listening?”
He blinked, caught Holly’s pointed gaze on his face, and looked away. “Sorry. Thinking about work.”
Damn it, he was lying to his mama. He’d worry about going to hell for that, except Holly had Mona believing she was a virgin, and well, as if. A memory spiked in his brain, her fingers tangled in his hair while he . . . his face flushed hot.
Pretty appropriate since they were hot together.
She knew where his mind had gone, smirking at him. He scowled, and her lips curved into a knowing smile he felt all the way below his belt. The woman was incorrigible, and he liked it that way, liked how she slotted into his life and lit everything up.
His mama relaxed around her — that said a lot right there.
He didn’t want to think about life before her or a life going forward without her.
Holy . . . damn it, he was gone over her already.
“Colt.” Exasperation tinged Mama’s voice, and he tore his gaze away from Holly’s. With her lips parted like that, a hint of surprise in her blue eyes, no telling what showed on his face.
He straightened, pizza forgotten. “Yes, ma’am?”
Disappointment pinched his mama’s mouth. “You are so distracted tonight.”
With extraordinary care, he set his paper plate aside then wrapped both hands around the counter edge. “Long day at work.”
It was as good as an excuse as any, but definitely the wrong one. If anything, Mama’s mouth pinched tighter, anxiety darkening her eyes.
Lord help him, one day he would learn to choose his words carefully.
“Is everything all right?” The sharp note in her voice rang familiar, because digging out every detail of any situation in his life required a sharp tool.
The hell of it was, his life wasn’t even that messy.
Yeah, he hadn’t gone on to a four year school after ABAC, but he’d always held down a job, managed to keep his mess out of their house, and he did okay.
But still he made Mama crazy.
“It’s fine.” Flexing his aching knuckles, he spread his hands in an open gesture. “Don’t worry—”
He snapped that off. Dumbest damn thing he’d ever said. Telling his mama not to worry was like telling Lamar he was sorry — he might as well save his breath.
“Sue, for real.” Her own tone light, Holly stacked the glossy photos and slid them into a manila envelope. “You should have heard how Herb bragged on him when I dropped his lunch off yesterday.”
“Really?”
Refusing to be insulted by his mama’s incredulity, Colt flashed Holly a grateful look. She was amazing at defusing that killer anxiety.
“Really.” Slotting the folder in her bag, Holly flipped her braid over her shoulder and slipped off the stool, gathering the detritus from the casual dinner they’d shared before Colt’s arrival. “He’s super impressed and ready to turn him loose with the warehouse.”
“Well, that’s good.” Mama folded her hands around her cup. Colt quirked a brow. If he’d said the same thing, she’d still be peppering him with questions.