16 | Head spinnin
COLTON
My chest tightens. I study Clementine’s face as she moves through the kitchen easily, tipping the sliced tomatoes into the salad bowl with one hand, phone pressed to her ear with the other.
“Yeah, it’s fine.” She wedges the phone between her ear and shoulder and wipes down the counter.
“The contractor came by today—I made some changes to the original plan. I’m keeping some of its original Southern charm. It just hits different, you know?”
Her eyes flick to mine, and heat blooms low in my gut.
“Not at all, I’ve been keeping busy—I’m just about to have dinner with an old… acquaintance.”
Any spark that had ignited is snuffed out instantly.
An ‘acquaintance’. I didn’t expect that to hit so hard.
“No, that’s okay, Daddy. I asked Devin to water the plants—and I can never keep them alive anyway.” Clementine drizzles some olive oil over the salad and cracks some salt and pepper on top.
Devin. The name echoes in my head. She said she wasn’t seeing anyone, so it’s probably nothing.
Just a guy then. A roommate maybe. Someone she casually hangs out with, probably in her sweatpants, guard down.
Maybe she even runs into him when she comes out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, skin damp—no. Goddamn, no, I’m not doing this.
“The McGraws? You mean Tessa?” Her eyes lock onto mine as she tosses the salad, her face unreadable. “Yeah, I went to visit Mama. Tessa stopped by—things got… interesting. Look, Daddy, I’d love to talk, but I’ve got company—I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”
She says her goodbyes and hangs up, setting the bowl of salad on the kitchen table. “Sorry about that— just my dad checking in.”
I try to remain neutral, but my tone betrays me. “I’m guessin’ he wouldn’t be excited to hear you’re hanging out with me?”
Her cheeks flush, eyes flicking to her feet. “He just knows where Tessa and I left things. He hasn’t exactly been a fan of her since—I think it may have tinged his view of your entire family somehow. He’s big on morals and values.”
“So he’s not angry about us? Or how things ended?” I study her face, but it remains unreadable.
“He doesn’t know about us.” She turns her back, rummaging through the fridge only to shut it again, empty-handed.
Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. She really thinks he doesn’t know.
I keep my face calm, but inside, something twists sharp and mean. She believes we were never worth mentioning. That what we had never even reached him.
Fine. She doesn’t have to know otherwise.
I clear my throat, pushing past the weight in my chest. “You make a mean Greek salad, Tiny, but I’m a big man—I’m gonna need some protein.” I grab my hat off the chair, tapping it against my thigh. “Let’s go get dinner.”
Her brows knit together. “Colton, we just—”
“—burned the chicken,” I cut in smoothly, tilting my chin toward the skillet, still smoking on the stove. “Ain’t negotiable, Clementine. We need food.”
She glances at the salad, hesitating. “I could make a quick grocery run—”
“We’re eatin’ out.” My hand finds the small of her back, already steering her toward the door.
“No.” She spins in my arms, hand pressed flat to my chest.
“Listen—I know how that’ll go. It starts small, you trick me into dinner together, just as an easy solution. We go to a restaurant, people see us together, talking starts. They think we’re a couple. We deny it, they think it’s just the beginning stages, that we’re not ready to name it yet.
And then I leave again, and you sulk, and I’m the bad guy—again.”
I open my mouth to protest, but she interjects. “Come on, Colt. I need this to be just sex. If you’re hoping for more, maybe we should just stop this now.”
I clench my jaw. “I’m good with just sex,” I lie. “If you really don’t want to be seen out in public with me, fine. We could get groceries, or we could just go to Mama’s house—she’d be happy to spend more time with you.”
She studies me for a long moment, hesitating. “Dinner with your mother seems like a bigger relationship-thing to do than grabbing a quick bite together.”
I scoff. “Come on, Tiny, it’s Mama. She’d invite the mailman over for dinner. It don’t get more casual than that.”
She bites her lip. “Fine. But we’re telling her not to think anything of it.” She grabs the bowl of the table. “And we’re bringing the salad.”
----
Twenty minutes later, I’m pushing open Mama’s front door without knocking. “Hey Mama, got room for two more?”
She looks up from the oven, cheeks pink from the heat, pullin’ out a bubbling casserole. “Now what kind of fool question is that, Colton McGraw? Take off your boots and get on in here.”
I toe mine off quickly and balance the salad bowl as I steady Clem, who’s bent over to untie her sneakers. My hand lingers low at her back, just long enough to catch Mama’s sharp-eyed smirk.
“Clementine made a salad,” I announce, setting it down on the kitchen table.
“Unnecessary, but appreciated,” Mama replies, slinging her dish towel over her shoulder. “Put it on the table and wash up for supper, both of y’all.”
“We just got outta the truck, Mama. Ain’t touched a thing.”
She cuts me a look over her glasses. “Exactly my point. You were in the truck together. I don’t know where y’all’s hands have been.”
“Mama!” Clementine yelps, cheeks pinking fast.
“What?” Mama says, all innocent, though her mouth’s twitching. “I was young once. Hands, soap, sink—now. Or eat out in the barn with the rest of the animals.”
I catch Clem’s eye, biting back a laugh at the way she’s half mortified, half amused.
Before she can sass back, the screen door bangs open. “What’s this I smell?” Wells strides in, pulling off his hat, grin stretched wide across his face. “Don’t tell me Mama went and made chicken and dumplin’s without warnin’ me.”
Mama rolls her eyes. “Boy, you’d show up for supper either way.”
Wells drops his hat on the counter and makes a beeline for the casserole. Mama swats his hand with her spoon. “Wash those dirty paws, Wells Raymond. You’ll eat when everyone else eats, not a second before.”
He leans down to kiss her cheek, grinning. “Mean as ever.”
“Still tryin’ to raise good people, even when I should be done by now,” she shoots back. “Now set the table. You too, Colton—don’t think bringin’ a pretty girl excuses you from chores.”
Clem makes a strangled noise. “I can help—”
Mama waves her off. “Honey, you brought a salad. Only work you need to do is sittin’ there lookin’ sweet and eatin’ second helpings.”
Wells whistles low. “That’s a first.” He shoots Clem a grin. “You tryin’ to win her over for Colt, Mama?”
“Somebody has to,” Mama says, heading back to the stove. “We gotta work real hard if we want to keep her from runnin’ off again.”
Clem nearly drops her fork, cheeks flamin’. “Mama, I’m—”
“—Goin’ back to the city, I know,” Mama interrupts, eyes glinting mischievously. “Well, then I’m just makin’ up for my son’s doin’s. You look like you ain’t had a minute’s peace since he laid eyes on you.”
Wells barks a laugh, slapping my shoulder on his way past. “I know for a fact she hasn’t.”
I squeeze Clementine’s knee under the table before she can fire back, enjoying the way she stiffens. “Y’all are somethin’ else,” I drawl. “Just let the girl eat.”
Dinner rolls by with the easy rhythm I grew up on—warm talk, laughter, plates scraped clean. After the peach crumble, we get up to thank Mama.
“You’re welcome to stay the night,” she says, straightening Clem’s collar. “I keep Colton’s old room ready for visitors.”
Clem chuckles, hugging her tightly. “Marg’s farm is barely twenty minutes away, Mama. Nice try, though.”
----
Just a little later, I’m walking Clem up Marg’s porch steps, casserole dish of leftover dumplings in my hand—Mama insisted she’d take it.
Clem unlocks the door, hesitating as she turns. “Would you like to come inside?”
I can’t stop the grin spreading. “In more ways than one, yes.”
She flushes, rollin’ her eyes. “Alright, you just blew your chance, cowboy.”
I nod solemnly, though the corner of my mouth twitches. “That’s alright too, darlin’. No need to rush into anythin’.”
“No need to rush into sex in our sex-only deal, you mean?” she deadpans.
I lean past her, setting the dish on her console table. “Sure, baby.”
She fumbles with her keys, her gaze flicking to my mouth. I dip in just a little closer, voice low. “I had a good time today, Tiny.”
Her teeth catch her bottom lip before she rises on her toes and kisses me. It’s slow and sweet. Enough to make my head spin like I’m twenty-four again and kissing her for the first time.
When she pulls back, her lips are pink and swollen, her eyes bright as fireflies. “This wasn’t a date,” she whispers, though there’s no bite behind it.
“I know.” I tip my hat, fighting a grin. “What are you doin’ tomorrow, darlin’?”
She steps inside, hesitates, then glances over her shoulder with a sly smile.
“You.”
----
Alright, bet he won't complain about that answer, huh? ????? What do we think of the story so far? Let me know! ????