Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)(92)

“What?”


“Nothing,” Channing said carefully. “It’s just, well, we’re surprised.”


“About what? Colt is amazing with kids. All kids. He helped me out at the community center, and I know he’s looking forward to being around Chassie’s baby.”


AJ, Channing and Macie glanced away. Carolyn gave her a curious look.


“Doesn’t surprise me Colt is great with kids,” Keely said cheerfully. “He spoiled me rotten when I was growing up. He’s always been my favorite brother.”


Pause.


Keely ducked as her sisters-in-law threw things at her. “I know when I’m not wanted.” She snuck out the side door.


“She just wants to go drink beer with the boys,” AJ said.


“Some things never change.”


The women chatted amongst themselves. India listened, but didn’t contribute much, either verbally or with dinner preparations.


She felt like a fifth wheel.


India wanted a drink something fierce. Stressful times like this made the crutch of alcohol more appealing.


Just one wouldn’t hurt you.


She peeked around the corner of the living room, looking for Colt. He held a sleeping toddler on his lap and was in deep conversation with Carter. Cord, Colby, Keely and Carson were congregated by the bay windows drinking beer.


A half-empty beer bottle sat on the sofa table.


A sense of urgency, a need to flee swamped her. She wouldn’t be missed if she snuck outside for a breath of fresh air.


No one would miss that bottle. No one would know if you had a little nip of liquid courage. No one would blame you.


India told the voice to shut up and practically ran outside.


Kyler, Thane and Gib were racing in front of the porch, playing hide and seek between the pickups. The night air had become chilly and she shivered, wishing she’d worn a coat.


The McKay family dynamics weren’t different from other families. Yet, she had a hard time figuring out where Colt fit in.


With two older brothers and two younger brothers, he could almost be considered the middle child.


The invisible child. The pleaser. The intermediary.


But according to the way Colt described himself, he was the rebel, the bad seed, the black sheep, even before he’d become an alcoholic.


India didn’t see him that way. And after spending just a short amount of time with his family, she wondered if any one of them saw Colt at all. The real Colt. The man she saw. Or did they still see him as Colt, the drunk? Colt, the charming womanizer? Colt, the screw up?


Didn’t they see the man with the big heart? The quiet, contemplative man who’d learned from his mistakes? The sweet man? The helpful man? The man who dropped everything to run a race with his nephews? A man who helped out at the community center with kids he didn’t know, as eagerly as he’d volunteered to help out with his own family’s kids whenever he was asked?


Colt would be a wonderful father. Involved. Caring. Loving.


And not for the first time did she think he’d make an even better husband.


“Whatcha thinking about so hard?”


She jumped at the sound of Cam’s soft drawl drifting to her from the right side of the porch. “Cam. I didn’t know you were out here.”


“Yeah. I know you didn’t.”


“You enjoy sneaking up on people.”