Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(26)

India.


Avoiding her had only produced a sharper ache. Lining up a date with another woman only proved he’d compare every female to the tattooed smart mouth who’d stolen his heart. Goddamn, she could piss him off one second and fire his blood with lust the next.


Drown your sorrows. You deserve to cut loose and try and forget about her.


Nights like this were the worst, being unsure and frustrated only increased his cravings for alcohol.


So booze was out. Sex was out. Sleep was a lost cause. That left one thing.


Colt changed into workout shorts. In the spare bedroom, he slipped on his boxing gloves and beat the stuffing out of the punching bag until he was sweaty and too exhausted to think.


The next morning the phone rang as Colt came inside from stacking wood. Only three people called him before eight on Sunday. India, his cousin Chassie, and his mother. Lately Chassie didn’t bother phoning first, she barged right into his house. He didn’t need to look at the caller ID today. “Hey, Ma.”


“Good morning!”


Carolyn West McKay was the cheeriest morning person on the planet. He poured the last of the coffee in his mug and listened to her chatter like a chipmunk. She’d get to the point of the call eventually. But she had this perverted sixth sense—if she thought you were trying to speed her along, she’d find irrelevant things to yammer on about.


“…just wanted to double-check that you were coming for an early family supper tonight.”


Finally. “How early?”


“Four o’clock.”


“Sure, I’ll be there.”


“Good. Cam is coming when he gets off shift. Wish Carter and Macie and their boys could be here. Keely too. It’s been a long time since we’ve had a family dinner.” Her weighted pause actually caused Colt to hold his breath. “Is there a chance you’ll be bringing a date?”


Shit. He wasn’t surprised word of his date with Fallon—and the fiasco afterward—had already fueled the gossip channels. Still,  that was fast, even by Sundance standards. “Nope. No date. Sorry to disappoint you.”


“Oh. No, son, I’m not disappointed. I’m looking forward to catching up. You’re not around as much since you built that house out in the middle of nowhere.”


“Everywhere in Wyoming is out in the middle of nowhere,” he said dryly. “Besides, it’s only thirty miles.”


“Seems like you’re three thousand miles away,” she murmured.


Sometimes I wish I was.


As he hung up, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked forward to Sunday dinner with the family, instead of feeling a sense of dread.


The McKay house was complete chaos. Kids running around, babies crying, his mother and his sisters-in-law jabbering like they hadn’t seen each other in months.


He’d been hanging out with his nephews in the family room, when he realized he was the only male adult in the room. He tracked his brothers and his father outside, lounging against the split rail fence running along the front of the house, drinking beer and shooting the shit. Even after three years of sobriety, they weren’t comfortable popping a top or two around him. Which was just another reason Colt only stayed long enough to be polite. Not that he contributed much to any conversation.


Carson said, “I don’t know what the hell Charlie was thinkin’.”


“Why didn’t Quinn and Bennett say something?” Colby asked.