Chapter Twenty-Five
She dreamed of him, after all, but the shadowy scenarios bordered on nightmarish, as she found herself in a dark hallway at a large, boisterous party filled with people she didn’t know. His muffled voice drew her deeper into the darkness. She opened a door to find an empty room.
Each room was empty when she opened the door, although his voice remained, the low honeyed-bourbon drawl he whispered over her skin while he made love to her.
He hadn’t been in any of the rooms, and she’d awakened before her alarm, her throat tight and a slight ache at her temples. The headache lingered into her day at work, until finally a cheeseburger and a second dose of painkillers at lunch helped ease the pressure.
By the time she made it home to shower and change and get ready for their dinner out, she almost felt normal.
She donned the white sweater dress she’d worn for what she now considered their first date because the outfit was comfortable and made her feel good about herself, an unbeatable combination.
The way he looked at her when he strolled in the back door made it even better.
“Hey.” Caressing the small of her back and nudging her into the warmth of his long body, he lowered his head to kiss her.
Cold, fresh air clung to his skin, blending with the cedar and salt smell of his soap and aftershave.
Holly wrapped her arms about him and pressed closer, drinking in his small chuckle. “Missed you today. You look great.”
“Mmm. Thank you.” She purred the acknowledgement under his chin. “You smell amazing.”
Lifting his head, he circled a caress at the base of her spine. “Let’s blow them off and go to bed.”
“And miss the American? You’ve lost your mind.” She pinched his belly through the soft, crisp cotton of his blue microcheck shirt. “Let’s go have amazing food then come home and go to bed.”
“If you insist.” He linked his arms about her waist and heaved an exaggerated sigh, good humor twinkling in his eyes. Warm affection surged through her, the final mist of her nightmares dissipating now she was close to him. “I’m not sharing my dessert with you.”
She scoffed. They both knew he would, just like they both knew what would happen once they went to bed. Pressing nearer, she fiddled with one of his buttons. Positive predictability had its perks, and she was positive she could predict how good things would be later.
His grin widened, the glow in his dark gaze shifting to something slower and hotter. “You ready to go?”
“To dinner?” She gave him a cheeky smile and fluttered her lashes. “Yes.”
Laughing, he brushed his lips over her cheek. “Come on and let’s get moving.”
When they stepped out, Andy and Grace exited their house as well. Gracie waved, a bright smile lighting her face. “Holly, I love that dress. If it’s from your stock, I need one.”
“It’s not, but I can try to find you one.
” Holly’s boots clicked on the sidewalk, Colt’s hitting with their familiar thud-and-scrape.
Why did she love that sound so much? Grace’s dress was cute as all get-out, a sack-like drape of heavy fabric cut on the bias, with pockets, the muted burgundy making her brown hair shine.
They met on the walk, halfway between Colt’s truck at the curb and Andy’s extended cab in the drive.
Holly and Grace exchanged a hug of greeting while Andy and Colt did the whole handshake-into-a-bro-hug thing. “You look great.”
Grace made a face. “I look like I had a baby three months ago. Girl, my mama wasn’t joking when she said baby number three changes your body.”
“Hey.” Andy’s voice rung with stern warning. “What did I say about that?”
Rolling her eyes, Grace leaned in toward Holly. “He thinks I’m complaining when I’m just acknowledging I will never have a flat stomach again.”
“Some of us have never had a flat stomach.” Holly snorted.
She’d always been athletic, if not graceful, and she kept fit, but she had Mona’s body shape genes for real.
Colt didn’t seem to mind – the man struggled to keep his hands to himself sometimes.
He made her feel like some kind of sexy siren. She loved that.
“Let me see your ring.” Grace patted her hands in gleeful anticipation. “I knew he had it in his pocket, but didn’t know when he would actually pop the question.”
With the tiny thrill she got whenever someone asked about the ring, Holly held out her hand, the streetlights sparking off the diamond. Grace gave an awed inhale, holding Holly’s fingers and rotating her hand to get all the best angles.
“Oh, that’s beautiful.” She smiled over her shoulder at Colt, who stood watching, hands in his pockets, navy blazer flared over his wrists. “You did good.”
He lifted one hand in silent acknowledgement. Andy laughed and slapped his back. “And she didn’t laugh and turn you down like the first time you asked her out.”
Colt’s slight chuckle hung on the chilly air in a puff of white and dissipated. “She did not.”
Holly’s brows twisted down. What was Andy nattering about?
Andy punched Colt’s arm. “Let’s hit the road. I’m hungry.”
They loaded into their respective vehicles – really, it would have made more sense to ride together, but she guessed having two was good if something happened with Andy and Grace’s kids – and she slanted a speculative glance at Colt while she fastened her seatbelt and he rounded the hood to the driver’s side.
“Colton.” She half-turned in his seat while he clasped his own belt and fired the engine. He rested his left wrist on the wheel, lighting glinting off the thin gold rim of his dress watch.
“Yes, ma’am?” He checked the street and pulled out.
“Did you lie to your friend and tell him I turned you down?”
Even from the side, she could see his forehead wrinkle. He half-looked at her, a flick of his gaze accompanied by a slight shrug. “You did turn me down.”
Her mouth fell open. “I did not.”
“You did.” Shaking his head on a rueful chuckle, he slowed at the stop sign. He lifted a finger from the wheel in emphasis. “Senior year. Homecoming. I asked and you turned me down.”
Lips parted, she stared at him. He didn’t mean . . . “What are you talking about?”
“Mr. Davis’s room, a couple of weeks before the dance. We were working on that Hardy poem about the couple breaking up by the pond, and you were talking about who was going with whom to the dance. I said—”
“We should go together.” The words fell in a horrified murmur as the memory unfolded in her brain.
Lord, she could see it, their desks pushed together in the back corner of Mr. Davis’s room.
The room had been cold because Mr. Davis was hot-natured.
Holly had shivered, and Colt had shrugged out of his letterman’s jacket, passed it over.
She’d donned it, wrapping herself in the clean warmth of his smell, wishing so hard for what she didn’t think she could have that his offhand “We should go” had infuriated her, made her snappish.
He’d been serious?
“And you laughed, told me not to be stupid and to get back to work.” He shrugged, expressionless in the glow from the dash. “So I did.”
“Oh, my Lord.” She stared at the cut-from-stone lines of his face. “You were serious.”
“I was.”
She covered her mouth, horrified. He’d ended up asking Jada, the beginning of his relationship with her, and Holly had gone with Mackey, a last minute hanging-out-as-friends arrangement to save face. “Colt.”
“It’s fine.” He lifted a hand between them. “And it worked out, right?”
“Yes.” It did, but the memory, the missed opportunity, made her want to cry. If she’d entertained the idea her impossible crush was reciprocated . . . what if she’d said yes? “Colton, that makes me sad.”
He darted a look at her, a hint of concern flashing over his face. “Why?”
“Well, because . . .” Her throat aching, she fiddled with the end of her loose braid.
Because if she’d let herself believe back then, things might have been so different.
No heartbreak over Scott. No nightmare with Allison Barnett that cost him and Tick – well, all of them, really – so much. “Things could be different.”
Hooking a wrist over the wheel, he frowned.
“Maybe not in a good way. I’d probably still have ended up being a mess because Mama was having such a hard time back then.
D didn’t have time to spend on me because he was so wound up in what she needed, which is okay.
I wasn’t easy for Jada all the time, and I sure wasn’t easy enough for Laurel. ”
“You’re killing my fantasy that we’d have been another Del and Barb or David and Lorraine.” Her mouth twisted into a slight moue. “Andy and Grace.”
His snort exploded in the quiet cab. “You do not want us to be Andy and Grace, believe me.”
“Why not?” She waved at Andy’s headlights behind them. “They’re adorable.”
“Yeah, now.” He relaxed into his seat. “You weren’t around when he was an immature dumbass. Thank You, Lord, he finally grew up.”
The heartfelt fervor made her smile.
“I wasn’t much better.” He slanted an arched brow and rueful grin in her direction. “Pretty thankful I finally grew up, too.”
She reached over to fiddle with his earlobe, affection in her touch, but a little bit of teasing, too. His ears were sensitive, and she’d discovered playing with the lobe, or just behind it, revved his motor quite satisfactorily. “I like you all grown up, Colt Calvert.”
“That’s pretty mutual, Holly Callahan.” He captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, sensation shivering up her arm from the warm contact. She felt his grin before he released her. “You’re marrying me to preserve your monogram, aren’t you? You know, same last initial and all.”
Her smile widened. “Oh, of course.”