Colton Christmas Protector (The Coltons of Texas #12)(44)
“You did.” She wrinkled her nose, still stunned by the news. “Why did your family believe your father left the majority of his company to his lawyer? Why didn’t you question the will from the start?”
Reid took a large swig of merlot. “Because it would be just the sort of attention-seeking stunt Eldridge has pulled in the past. I gave up trying to figure him out years ago. We were shocked, of course. But it sounded like just the sort of final ‘screw you’ from the grave Eldridge would give to his family.”
“I didn’t realize things were that dicey at the Colton ranch.”
He sent her a dubious look.
“Well, other than Fowler being a first-class jerk most of the time. And Marceline being rather catty,” she amended.
“Catty.” He flashed a wry smile and rubbed the muscles at the back of his neck with his free hand. “That’s a diplomatic way to put it.”
“But the rest of your family...” She tried to remember the few occasions that Reid talked about his siblings or the rare occasion when she’d been invited to Colton Valley Ranch for special events. What had the family dynamic been like?
“Let’s just say, Eldridge’s disappearance and presumed death brought out the dark side of the Colton clan.”
“Oh?” Her tone invited him to continue.
He raised his eyebrows and twisted his mouth in disgust. “Like I mentioned before—all the finger-pointing and backstabbing in the past few months related to Eldridge’s disappearance and other trouble we’ve encountered. I’d rather not rehash it.”
“I’m sure that was stressful.”
He patted his chest. “Ah, warms the cockles of my heart to know how my family comes together in a crisis,” he grumbled.
She thought of how her father had pushed her mother away, shut her out when she was sick, as if he could pretend the disease wasn’t ravaging his wife. “I can relate. My father was a real ass to my mom while she fought her cancer. Treated her as if she were already dead or just too much trouble to bother with.”
He sent her a commiserative glance. “I remember you telling me that, years ago. How hard it was on you.”
“More so for my mom. I already had a strained relationship with Hugh. But seeing the way he dismissed my mother, rarely stopped by her room to visit her when she was bed-bound...”
“Sounds like our fathers were cut from the same cloth. No wonder they got along so well. I guess you remember I’ve always had a pretty contentious relationship with my father.”
She winced. “Sorry.”
He waved her off. “Not your fault. Eldridge didn’t go from redneck thief to billionaire oilman and rancher because of his parenting skills. He was always a cunning, ruthless businessman and opportunist. He married his first wife for her money and surrounded himself with people who would protect his interests and weren’t afraid to be just as ruthless as their employer.”
“Like my father,” she finished for him. He fumbled a bit, and she shook her head. “No, no. Don’t try to backtrack or be polite. It’s true. I think we have ample proof of that in recent days.”
He raised his glass toward her again. “To the children of sorry, distant fathers.”
She grinned and clinked her wineglass to his. “We turned out okay, though. Right?”
He flashed a coy smile. “Well, you did. I’m still working on some rough edges.”
She chuckled and raised her wine again, teasing, “I’ll drink to that!”
He playfully clutched his heart as if she’d wounded him. After contemplating the fire for a moment he said, “For what it’s worth—speaking of rough edges—I think the worst of the undercutting is behind the family. I’ve sensed a shift toward cooperation and mutual goals.”
“Because everyone is falling in love, happier with their lives and moving forward.” She finished for him, remembering his earlier comments about the family changes. Her calf began cramping, and she stretched out her legs and rubbed the stiff muscle. “And you?”
He paused with his wineglass almost to his lips. “What about me?”
“Are you...happy with your life?”
He sipped, set the glass aside, and unexpectedly took hold of her foot which was only inches from his thigh.
His touch sent shock waves through her. The first blast of adrenaline was rooted in surprise, kicking her heart rate into high gear. But as his fingers dug into the tired tendons of her feet and worked the cramping muscle in her calf, heady sensations rippled through her, as sweet and intoxicating as the wine. A moan of pleasure slipped from her throat before she could squelch it.
His hand stilled momentarily, and her breath stuck in her lungs as their eyes met. Neither of them moved, but the earth seemed to shift under her. Neither said anything, but a clear message passed between them. The air vibrated. The mood changed. They hurtled past an invisible guardrail into an abyss from which she wasn’t sure she could ever return.
Reid slid his hand up to grasp her ankle, tugging her leg closer and dragging her feet onto his lap. Her wine sloshed as his actions toppled her onto her back. He took her glass from her and set it aside, his feral gaze never leaving her. She blinked at him, stunned, but didn’t pull her feet from his hands as he cupped first one, then the other, rubbing them with deep, relaxing strokes.