Chapter 33
Kayla
Castlebrook Town Crier Text Chain
Sue Cruthkins
Reservations required tonight at Lucci’s Pasta Palace.
Phone now to secure your front row seats to Kayter’s first date!
I make my way down the stairs, feeling like the lead actress in a 2000s prom romcom.
I’m wearing a new dress from a store Penny suggested.
The dress is definitely not one of my school-appropriate ones.
It cinches at my waist, the neckline dipping into a V, before flowing loosely down to my mid-thighs.
My boobs are pushed up so high, held up with tape and free will, and I feel like they’re in my face, but it’s worth it for the look on Colt’s face when he sees me.
He stands at the bottom of the staircase, watching me like he’s not sure if he’s supposed to speak yet.
He’s wearing a button-down that fits him a little too well.
His usual jeans, sure, but they’re actually clean.
He’s got his fancy boots on, the ones with the pointed toes, and he’s not even wearing a hat.
His eyes flicker from my cleavage to my eyes, back to my cleavage, and then, bashfully, back to my eyes.
“Wow,” he whispers, low enough I can’t even hear him, just see the shape of his lips as they move.
"Is that cologne?" I sniff, half-teasing.
He shrugs. "I had to pull out all the stops tonight, since this is apparently our first date. "
I grin and step closer. "You clean up nice, Williams."
"You’re gonna kill me in that dress," he mutters, voice low. I pretend not to melt.
We drive in mostly comfortable silence, the kind that buzzes with possibility. He glances over every so often, and I know he’s doing that thing where he tries to figure out how to say something before actually saying it.
"You okay?" I finally ask.
He nods. "Just nervous."
That makes my heart squeeze. "You? Nervous?"
"Don’t make me say it," he says under his breath. "This whole dating thing. I haven’t really done it. I’ve never had a girlfriend.” A blush works its way up his neck until even the tips of his ears turn red. “I don’t want to fuck it up."
"You’re doing fine so far."
"I forgot to get the door for you when you got in the truck."
I try to hide my snicker when he looks so disappointed in himself. "That’s not a big deal, it’s not really a thing anymore. It’s not like you forgot my name or something. That would be a bad first date."
"No,” he insists. “I should have opened your door. You deserve to be treated like a princess.”
“Look like a princess. Sound like a princess,” I repeat his words from weeks ago—though it feels like years—back to him teasingly.
“Ugh. Don’t remind me of how much of a dick I was, please.”
“Sorry, Babe. Comes with the territory. If you’re committing to me, you’re committing to our past too.”
“Well, if it’s non-negotiable,” his moustache twitches as he looks at me, eyes alight with entertainment.
The restaurant he picks isn’t fancy. It’s also not the steakhouse that Tanner took me to—which is a relief. I don’t think either of us wants to share our first date there.
This restaurant, Lucci’s, is warm and rustic, with Edison lights and mismatched wood furniture that somehow works.
There’s a string quartet playing softly from a speaker overhead, but it keeps glitching, so the playlist from Bridgerton turns into good old-fashioned country music halfway through the appetizer.
“Thank fuck,” Colter mutters under his breath the second the classical pop music is replaced with something more modern. I giggle into my glass of wine, enjoying the way Colt literally sags in relief at the change in music.
He orders steak and fries. I go for chicken and pasta. And we talk. We talk about literally nothing at all.
He tells me about his time on the high school’s baseball team.
I tell him about my brief stint as an amateur trombonist in my high school band until I got kicked out for being so bad.
He tells me about his first horse, Rocket.
I tell him about the cat I snuck into the trailer for a few weeks when I was eight, and how I got caught by Fletch trying to feed it my French fries.
Throughout the meal, I think I laugh more than I ever have in my life, and each time I do, Colt smiles like he’s won the Nobel Prize.
"I’ve been thinking about this night for a long time,” he tells me, stacking his plates neatly at the edge of the table.
I freeze, the last of my pasta halfway to my mouth.
"I mean the idea of this night, I guess. Just you and me. No Ben, no cows, no math homework. Just this. I don’t know why I waited so long to ask you out."
"You thought I was too young, remember?”
"I thought I was going to fall in love with you, and you were going to leave. Like my mother." He sighs, taking a long pull from his own glass of wine and wincing. “I thought you were going to break my heart, and then break my son’s heart right after.”
“I’m nothing like your mother,” I try to tamp down the bite in my words, knowing he didn’t mean it offensively.
He thought I’d promise myself to a family, and then realize I was too young for it.
I get it. I get why he would think that.
But the difference between me and his mother is that I think I would combust if I had to leave Colt or his little boy behind.
“I know you’re not. And I might be a lot like my father, but not when it comes to love.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“I mean, Dad was ridiculously and foolishly in love with my mother. Everyone saw it. But when push came to shove, he didn’t fight for her.
He let her go.” He takes my hand across the table, thumb brushing against the back of my knuckles.
His hands are rough, warm, steady. Like everything else about him.
“I’m not letting you go, Kayla. Even if you run, I’ll come after you. ”
“I’m not going to run,” I promise him. “I mean, you’re bordering on kidnapper territory, which is a little concerning, but as long as you don’t start locking me in the basement, I’ll look the other way.”
He tries to cover his laugh with a sigh, but it doesn’t work. I hear it. “I promise not to kidnap you, if you promise to talk to me if it ever gets too much. If you need a break, you tell me. We’ll work it out.”
“You don’t get to take a break from being a parent,” I scoff.
I won’t be like his mom, and I sure as fuck won’t be like mine.
“But if I ever feel overwhelmed, I promise you will be the first person I come to. Unless you’re the reason I’m feeling overwhelmed.
Then I’m going to Sue, and she can put it in the town group chat. ”
“That’s just cruel,” he groans, but he’s smiling as he says it.
“You seem to have forgotten, I was raised on the streets of Chicago. I can make a grown man cry if I need to.”
“Okay, okay. Warning received. Now, are you done feeling like a zoo exhibit and ready to head out?” I look behind him to where Sue, Carol, and Luanne sit, donning floppy summer hats and sunglasses, all seated on one side of the table so that they’re facing our table.
“Yeah,” I place my empty plate beside his. “Let’s get out of here.”
On the way home, he surprises me with a detour. "One more stop," he says as we climb back into the truck.
"I thought you wanted to get away from the town scrutiny?"
"I do," he replies, smiling devilishly. “Good thing I own an insane amount of private land.”
“What a humble guy,” I snort.
We drive for twenty minutes, past the edges of Castlebrook, toward the foothills. When we finally pull over, I realize where we are.
Brutus’s field.
"You brought me to see a cow?" I ask, incredulous.
“A bull,” he corrects. “And no, we moved Brutus out of here a few days ago. He’s officially on vacation in one of the further fields.”
“Aw, I’m gonna miss him,” I frown, looking around the empty field.
He chuckles and hops out, grabbing a blanket from the truck bed and slinging it over his shoulder. “Only you.”
I follow him into the grass, fireflies blinking like tiny lanterns. He spreads the blanket near the edge of the hill, where the view opens up to reveal a velvet spread of stars.
"Wow," I breathe. There are a lot of things about Montana that I don’t think I’ll ever get used to, including the stars.
We sit in silence for a few minutes, just taking it all in. “So, do you finally believe me that Brutus understands us?”
“I don’t know if he understands our language, but I think his years as a bull helped him see what was right in front of him.”
“And what was that?” I ask, turning to look at the cowboy.
“Two adults who were denying some pretty strong chemistry.”
“Oh, please,” I nudge my shoulder against his. “I had no interest in bedding you when we first met.”
“Bullshit,” Colt chuckles. “Your brain might have been saying no, but everything else was screaming yes.”
“Oh my God, have you always been this cocky?”
“What can I say? Having a girl like you fall for someone like me? It boosted my ego a little.” And if that isn’t somehow both cringy and charming at the same time.
“You’re ridiculous,” I groan before bringing the subject back to the missing bull. “I can’t believe Brutus blocked us from going home so we’d stop fighting that one night.”
"He’s a bull," Colt chuckles. “Isn’t being stubborn kind of a given?”
“Yeah, but being a relationship counsellor is a little above his pay grade.”
“I think you’re reading too much into it.”
“I think you’re not thinking about it enough,” I argue. “He saw an opportunity to bring us closer together, and he did.”
“We were barely even fighting,” Colt shakes his head at me. “I mean, all I really did was make sure you were safe while on a date.”
“Oh, is that how you think that went?” I scoff, rolling onto my stomach. The neckline of my dress dips, and his eyes flicker back to my cleavage. Good to know the dress is doing what it’s supposed to.
“How do you remember it?”
“I remember a grumpy, territorial cowboy trying to mark his territory before he even knew what he was feeling.”
“I knew what I was feeling,” he huffs. “The whole fucking town knew how I was feeling.”
“I didn’t.”
He scoffs again. “I saw your face that night. You looked like someone who realized her heart belonged somewhere else. Don’t kid yourself, Kayla.
We both knew what we were feeling, we were just too dumb to embrace it.
” Colt leans in, minty breath fanning over my face.
"And just so we’re clear, I’m done being dumb. "
My breath hitches. “Are you?”
“Hell yeah, Sweets. Your heart is mine now. Don’t worry, I’ll take real good care of it.” And then he kisses me.
It’s slow. Intentional. Like he’s making a promise.
He leans in, pressing himself into the kiss more. My hand grazes down the front of his torso, feeling the muscle under his shirt ripple. His teeth graze my lip as I pull away, panting.
“Colt,” I whisper, pushing him back gently. “As much as I would love to fuck you in a field, I have to ask—do you guys clean up all the shit?”
He props himself up on his elbow, leaning over me. “Kayla, do you know how long it would take to clear out the field? Plus, it’s great fertilizer.”
“Colt, I am not having sex surrounded by shit.”
“I’ll get the guys out here to clean it up tomorrow.”
“You do that,” I pat his chest, before standing and brushing off my dress. “In the meantime, how abouts we head home and have sex in our bed?”
He basically tips over himself standing up. “Yes. Let’s do that. Right now.”
“Alright, Cowboy. Slow down before you hurt someone,” I giggle, following him to the truck.