Chapter 12 #2
“I told him to sit and wait for you,” I lie, trying to help out my new friend. “And I offered him some dinner while he waited. Apparently, Rooster is a bad cook.”
“Rooster?” Colt’s voice somehow manages to drop another octave.
“Drew?” I try again, using the name Scott gave me.
“I know who Rooster is, Kayla.” Colter’s fingers reach up, and he pinches his nose. “What do you want, Scott?”
“Oh, uh, Jake told me to tell you that he’s got everything squared away, and we’re all done for the day.”
“This could have been a text.”
“You don’t answer your texts, so I never know if you get them.”
“If I answer your texts, will you stay out of my goddamn house?”
“But I thought we got to come and go as we pleased?” I swear to God, Scott almost whimpers the words.
“Not anymore.”
“Damn,” he groans.
“Scott?”
“Yeah, Boss Man?”
“Get the fuck out.”
“Sure thing, Boss Man.” Scrambling off his chair, he almost trips over himself on his way out. “Thanks for dinner, Kayla!” He calls the words over his shoulder, escaping down the hallway furthest from Colt. I think that’s an intentional choice.
“That was rude,” I huff, grabbing Scott’s bowl and dumping out his leftovers. “You could have at least let him finish.”
“Kayla?” He steps further into the kitchen.
“What, Colt?”
“Did you make me dinner?”
I flush, avoiding eye contact as I rinse out the dirty bowl. “I had nothing else to do.”
“You didn’t need to do that.” Colt’s voice is soft, almost docile, as he speaks to me, drastically different from how he was just talking to his employee.
“I wanted to,” I tell him. “Anyways, I like cooking.”
“I can cook for us,” he tells me, taking the bowl from my hands and walking it over to the dishwasher.
“I wanted to,” I repeat. “And anyway, you come home late and are probably starving. This way, you didn’t have to wait. I’ll cook while I’m here. As a thank you.”
“Kayla.”
“If you don’t let me, I’ll live out of my car.”
“Seriously?” Colt huffs, a lot like his bull, instantly looking unimpressed.
“Uh-huh. Try me.”
“Fine, you can cook. But I clean.” He negotiates, but jokes on him. I love cooking, but I hate doing dishes. “Did you eat yet?”
“No, I was waiting for you.”
For a moment, he doesn’t say anything. Then, after a long pause, he nods. “Let’s eat then.”
Castlebrook Town Crier Text Chain
Sue Cruthkins
Good morning Castlebrook citizens! The case of the missing lemons is now closed. The thieves are furry little bandits with no good manners. Please keep an eye out for raccoons and report them to the police.
Unknown
Please do not call if you see a raccoon. Animal control will be able to assist in extreme situations.
Sue Cruthkins
Theyre thieves!
Unknown
Sue
Sue Cruthkins
Fine.
Sue didn’t waste any time adding me to the town group chat. By 6:00 the next morning, I’m being woken up to texts about stolen lemons and thieving raccoons.
Scrubbing the drool off my face—because I definitely have drool on my face after a sleep like that—I force myself out of the warm blankets.
The bed in this room is unbelievable, and sure, I’ve been sleeping on wood and springs for the past month, so any bed would be unbelievable at this point, but seriously, I feel like I’m sleeping on a cloud.
And the blankets? I’m gonna have to ask Colt where he got them, cause I need some of my own.
The kitchen is quiet by the time I get dressed and make my way down.
I’m assuming Colt’s out doing ranch stuff, whatever that might be.
I open cupboards at random until I find the coffee mugs, and then I start my hunt for the coffee.
I know he has some, cause why else would you have a fancy-looking coffee maker?
“What are you doing?”
“Do you not have any coffee?” I ask, balancing on the countertop and trying to peer into the cupboards above the fridge. Colter leans against the entryway, looking a combination of amused and displeased.
“You really think I’d store my coffee up there?”
“Well, I don’t know! Maybe Ben’s an addict, and you have to hide it from him?”
“Get down before you kill yourself, please?” He tacks on the please after a moment of hesitation, softening his words into a plea. “I don’t want to have to call Mark and Sawyer.”
“Who?”
“Our paramedics.”
“You only have two paramedics? What if they have a day off?”
“Then you get the firefighters, who do their best, but probably end up making it worse.”
“Well, that’s slightly terrifying.”
“Exactly, so stop putting yourself in danger.” His hands circle my waist, helping me down from my perch. I wince at the pressure of his hand against my newly formed bruise, and he rips his hands off of me like I’ve burned him. “What? What did I do?”
“No, nothing,” I tell him, squeezing his biceps in reassurance. Damn, that arm is firm. “I bumped into the corner of the island yesterday, and it bruised.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. Scott scared me, and I spun into it.”
“Fucking Scott,” Colt mutters, grinding his teeth. “The boys won’t be coming in here without notice while you’re here. I’ll talk to them.”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s just a bit of a culture shock after living in Chicago my whole life. One time, someone broke into my Grandma’s house just to eat her lasagna.”
“Seriously?”
“Uh-huh. Broke her lock and took the lasagna right out of the oven. She found him eating right out of the pan. It’s not quite as welcome when you don’t know the guy.”
“Understandable,” Colt chuckles.
I shrug. “Anyway, I threatened Scott with a knife until he showed me his license.” I don’t mention that it was only a butter knife, and the license thing was his idea.
“Lucky, I would’ve loved to hold a knife to his throat last night,” he mutters. “Here,” he spins away from me, towards a barn door that ends up leading to a butler’s pantry.
“Was this here the whole time?” I ask, looking from the stainless steel appliances to the green cupboards.
“You didn’t know?”
“No, I had no idea.”
“It leads to the dining room,” he gestures to the open arch where a door would normally fit perfectly. “What did you cook with if you didn’t know this was here?”
“I stopped at the grocery store,” I tell him. I thought he would have realized that when he saw the paper bags in the trash.
“Kayla,” he sighs like he’s disappointed in me.
“I didn’t know!” I repeat, raising my hands in defense.
“I told you to make yourself comfortable.”
“I was just up on your counters. I’ve made myself plenty comfortable.” I take the coffee he holds out to me. “Thank you.”
“Do you work today?”
“It’s a Monday?” I furrow my brows, not sure why he would think I wasn’t working.
“Ben doesn’t have school,” he shrugs.
“It's a PD Day. I have meetings all day.” Surely he knows what a PD day is. He didn’t go his whole life thinking teachers got it off like the students, did he?
Colter gives me a look like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.
He pours himself some of the coffee and leans against the counter, his eyes trailing over me like he’s not quite sure what to do with me being in his kitchen.
“I’ll be gone most of the day,” I tell him. “I have to go in—a guest speaker’s coming to do some motivational thing about why we love teaching. He’s probably never spent a day in the classroom before.”
He smirks. “Nothing says inspiration like a thirty-minute lecture about grit and determination.”
“Exactly.” I grin. “So much more useful than prep time to mark.”
He nods, then adds, “Ben’s at his grandparents' for the day, but he’s spending the night here. Don’t worry about dinner for him, though. He’ll eat with his moms.”
“Okay, cool. Thanks for the heads up. I should get going, though. Hopefully, I survive what Harry has labelled to be the greatest educational pep talk of the year.
Colter opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but I don’t give him the chance. I grab my laptop, my travel mug, and make a hasty exit before his stare starts to overpower gravity again, pulling me off-center.
By the time I get to school, I’ve inhaled half a protein bar and spilled some of my coffee down the front of my sweater. It’s a Monday miracle that I don’t spill the whole thing.
The meeting is being held in the staff room, since there’s only like ten of us, so I head straight there. Betty, a mom of three and the closest in age to me, waves me over. “Hey! How are you doing?”
“I’m good,” I sigh, dropping into the chair. “Colter Williams offered me a place to stay, so I’m not on the streets yet.”
“Colter? Really?”
“Yeah, why?”
“He kinda hates people, doesn’t he?”
I snort, taking a big gulp of coffee to try and cover the sound. “I could see that.”
Harry clears his throat, interrupting Betty’s response. “Alright, alright. I know we all want to get started, so I won’t waste any more time. Please welcome former Castlebrook resident, our previous college football quarterback, and a local entrepreneur, Tanner Reese!”
The meager group claps, mostly because we’ve been promised donuts after this.
Still, the sound is a little sad. I raise an eyebrow as Tanner takes the mic.
He’s tall, clean-cut, with a tailored jacket and just enough swagger to remind me he’s probably used to people staring at him.
And he’s got the voice to match—easy, confident, practiced.
The talk is fine. He throws out some jokes, talks about failure, finding purpose, and throws in a story about tearing his ACL—a story that most of these teachers know because they witnessed it.
At least he didn’t tell us to buck up and fake it until we make it, or that the only support we need in the classroom is God.
Hand on heart, I’ve heard both of those ‘pep-talks’ before.
When he’s finished and the donuts are passed out, we’re dismissed for a break before our staff meeting. While all of the teachers crowd around Tanner to check up on their former student, I sneak off to my classroom for a few moments of peace.
I’m lucky today, I actually get about 10 minutes of peace and quiet before I’m interrupted.
“You’re not Ms. Cannon,” the male voice sounds from my classroom doorway, tearing my eyes away from the resources I am working on editing.
“Nice of you to notice,” I smile politely at the ex-football star.
“I was coming to say hi. She was my second-grade teacher.”
“She retired last month, actually. I’m Kayla.” I stand up, wiping my hands off on my black yoga pants. Kids aren’t in class today, so I don’t have to dress nice. If I have an excuse to dress comfy, I’m taking it.
Up close, Tanner Reese is even more polished. Movie star smile. Perfect hair. Not a single coffee stain on his clothes. Must be nice. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“You too. Great speech.”
“Ha, I don’t know about that, but there aren’t many options for guest speakers in Castlebrook, hey?”
“Seems to be the trend here,” I smile saccharinely. No options for apartments. No options for guest speakers.
“We do have an amazing steakhouse here, though.”
“Oh, really? No one’s mentioned that to me.”
“It’s a little fancy. More of a date night kind of place.” It’s so smooth, I almost don’t catch the shift in my chest. Colter’s face flashes through my mind—messy hair, quiet voice, that hand on my waist, helping me down from the counter this morning. “We could go, though?”
“Oh? Like a date?” I double-check.
“If you want to,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal. I haven’t been asked out on a date since I was nineteen. Is it normal for it to be done so casually, like it’s just another day at the office? “I’m staying in town for the week. Going back to Bozeman on Sunday. How’s Friday?”
I should say no.
I should definitely say no.
But instead, I hear myself say, “What time?”
Tanner smiles like he’s already won something. “Six-thirty? I’ll text you the place.”
Castlebrook Town Crier Text Chain
Sue Cruthkins
Update! Raccoon seen near the library. Carry your lemons indoors.
Unknown
Sue. Please.