“You’re not,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “You want to be your own person. I get that. I fought for that for years.” He paused for a moment, then stroked her hair. “When I was in high school, I hated everyone and everything in this town.”
“You hated me, too?” she asked with a faint smile.
“I did,” he admitted.
“That’s okay,” she said with a sigh. “I was pretty stupid back then.”
“You were with Allan back then,” he said. “And I was a nobody. One of the Waggoner boys that lived out in a trailer in the junkyard.”
She remembered. He’d been there on the fringes of memory—a lean, angry teenage boy in ragged jeans with a permanent scowl on his face.
“When I was in high school,” he began slowly, “I wanted so desperately to get away from this place that I couldn’t stand it. I’d spend nights running at the school track, doing push-ups and drills, because I couldn’t wait to get into basic training. The day after graduation, I enlisted. I shipped out to basic and never looked back. I was so desperate to make something of myself that I wanted to forget everything that I’d been for the last eighteen years. I was going to remake myself into a new man.”
Her fingers linked in his. “And did you like the marines?”
“I loved it,” he admitted. “I’d still be there if it wasn’t for my knee. Two surgeries and I had limited mobility for a few years. Not enough to permanently sideline me, but enough to destroy my career.”
She pressed her mouth to his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“I spent a lot of time doing survival-training routines when in the marines. When I got out, I decided I didn’t want to be around anyone. I bought some land out in the middle of nowhere, Alaska, and built a cabin. I lived off the grid—no running water, no electricity, no nothing—for a year. And when I came into town one day, I called Dane just to find out how he was doing, and his life was a f**ked-up mess. I was in the middle of some survival classes. Invited Dane. Didn’t realize how much he’d like it. I invited him to come join me. We lived up in the mountains for an entire year. No power, no phones, nothing. But then Dane wanted to come back. And Grant offered the survival business.”
“But you would have stayed?” she guessed.
He shrugged. “I didn’t care one way or another. But Dane missed people. And I think he was worried about Grant. Grant’s wife died five years ago, and the man was still a mess. At ends. Scrambling for projects to fill the day. Dane wanted to help him. So I came.”
She’d had no idea. Grant seemed so together. Actually, all three men did. Her hand stroked along the cords of his arm. “Do you regret coming back?”
“Some days,” he said lazily, and her heart twanged in response. “But I like you, and I like my friends, and right now that’s enough for me. The rest of the town could fall off the map tomorrow and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
She could understand that. “I shouldn’t care so much that they don’t see me as my own person,” she said softly.
“You care,” he said, rubbing her shoulder again. “Because you want to prove to them that you are, and they’re not seeing it.”
She nodded, and stared at the pile of papers in front of her, the keys carefully tagged to each page. “Look at that,” she said with disgust. She leaned out of his embrace and picked up the stack of paperwork and keys. “The Realtor trusted me with all of these people’s house keys. Why? Because I’m sweet little Beth Ann Williamson, who would never harm a fly or lie to a stranger. Why not trust me with all these people’s houses?” She tossed down the stack with disgust, and the keys jangled on the linoleum.
“You know what I think?” he drawled.
Beth Ann glanced over at him. “What?”
His sharp eyes glinted at her, and she saw a flash of dimple that made her knees weak. “They think you’re not the kind of girl to f**k her man in a stranger’s house.”
The breath caught in her throat, and desire began to pulse through her. “I bet that’s exactly what they think.”
“Want to prove them wrong?”
“Absolutely,” she breathed, a wicked smile curving her face.
He stood up, moved to the front door, and locked it. Colt turned back to her, his eyes gleaming. The front of his pants had tented, his c**k already hard. “Shut the blinds, darlin’.”
She did, her body quivering with need. Her legs felt curiously weak—one touch from him and she’d collapse like a deck of cards. He did that to her. His touch never failed to make her feel naughty, and sexual, and oh so desirable. As if she were the most beautiful thing in the world and it was all he could do to keep his hands off of her.
She’d never felt like that before. Ever. And she craved it so badly.
As soon as she’d shut the blinds, Colt’s hand slid along her ass, cupping it through her dress. “You look stunning today,” he said, leaning in to nuzzle her neck. “My c**k is hard as a rock just looking at you.”
Warmth flooded through her. No comments on whether her clothes were inappropriate or if her shoes were the wrong color. He just liked to look at her. Appreciated her. She tilted her neck so he could continue to kiss it, his hand burying in her thick fall of blond hair.
“More beautiful every time I see you,” he whispered against her skin.
She felt the same way. Nothing in Colt’s appearance had changed since they’d started to sleep together—she kept his hair cut crisp and short for him. He kept clean shaven. Wore the same kinds of clothes. But every time she saw him, it was like a punch in the gut. The long lashes of his narrow eyes. How had she ever thought them hard? How had she ever thought his beautiful, sensual mouth was turned down in a permanent frown? She lived for those flashes of dimple that told her he was truly amused. That she’d gotten to him.
His arms slid around her waist and pulled her close to him, cradling her, even as he continued to kiss her neck from behind. Not aggressively making love to her this time, then. He’d make love to her soft and sweet. For some reason, that made her eyes prick with new tears. She turned in his arms to face him. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He raised an eyebrow at her, inquiring. His hands flexed on her hips, soothing, rubbing. Caressing.