Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(22)

Standing in his black boxer-briefs, he stretched his arms over his head and reached behind his neck to loosen the rubber band that held back his shoulder-length dark blond hair. He shook it free, drew back his fist, and punched the locker door with all his might, denting it badly and bruising his knuckles. He’d have to pay for it. He didn’t give two shits.

He reached for his jeans and T-shirt, stepped into the pants, and shrugged the shirt over his head. Generally, after a show, he headed to the stables to say good night to Thor and Joe, and possibly allow himself to be used by a decent-looking patron on the prowl, but not tonight. He was in a bad mood. Tonight he just wanted to go the f*ck home.

He grabbed his keys and wallet from his locker and shoved them into his back pockets, then headed out the dressing room door, anxious to be gone before he ran into someone. He’d just as soon be sitting in his car than see Verity gush all over Artie when the show was over. Fuck Artie. Fuck everything.

He pushed open the door to the parking lot with too much force, listening as it slammed into the cement wall, and kept his head down as he strode over to his car. She’d be out in a few minutes with the f*cking rose crown on her head, maybe with Artie’s arm around her shoulder. Maybe she’d ask Colt to give Ryan a ride home because Artie asked her out for dinner. And he’d say yes because he was a f*cking fool, and he’d lie there in the dark, waiting to hear Artie’s truck pull up in his driveway. He’d tell himself not to run to the window to see if Artie pulled her up against him, to see if she let Artie kiss her, but he wouldn’t be able to help himself. He’d watch. He’d f*cking watch as Artie—

“Great show!”

Wait, what? He stopped in his tracks, jerking his head up to see Verity and Ryan leaning side by side against his car. Her cheeks were still flushed with excitement.

“You were terrific!”

He looked back at the castle, where patrons were just starting to file out into the parking lot. “How’d you . . .?”

“Get here so fast?” She shrugged. “I figured the show was pretty much over when you were done, so . . .”

She wasn’t wearing the crown on her head, nor holding it in her hands. “Where’s your crown?”

“My . . .? Oh, the rose crown? I gave it to a little girl I passed on the way out. She was wearing a princess dress with no crown. I figured she had more right to it than me.” Her brows furrowed. “Oh, gosh. Is that okay? Should I have kept it?”

That was the moment he felt it. Deep inside. So deep, it was scary, like maybe it was a lock that had been there all along, but Verity Gwynn somehow held the key. His anger. His volatile f*cking rage. He felt it diffuse. He could feel it turning from bright, hot red . . . to dark pink . . . to pink . . . to almost white as the soothing music of her sweet voice quelled the fury of the beast inside. And when he drew breath, it didn’t jerk and burn. It was deep and sound, filling his lungs. And when he exhaled, any residual anger caught a ride, spirited away.

Colt smiled . . . occasionally. No, less than occasionally. The reality was that there was only one person in the world who could make him smile, and he smiled for her because he always had and he always would. Because he’d promised her a long time ago, and he wasn’t one to break his promises.

But, in one blinding instant of rare happiness, a second name appeared on that short list of people who could make him smile. He felt his lips twitch up in an unfamiliar movement, a soft chuckle escaping from the back of his throat, as he stared down at Verity, whose upturned face split into a surprised, beaming smile, encouraging him to share his own. Shaking his head as he grinned at her, he inhaled deeply, relief washing over him like the light rain that had started to fall.

She’d given Artie’s crown to a little girl.

His pitiful heart took flight.

“It’s rainin’, Ver’ty. I’m gettin’ wet,” said Ryan.

Without looking away from her, Colt reached into his back pocket and pulled out his keys, pressing a button to unlock the car doors so that Ryan could get in the backseat.

“You’re smiling at me,” she said, her face filled with wonder.

“I guess I am.”

“No guessing about it,” she said, taking a step closer to him. “And I like it. So much.”

Raindrops sprinkled over her face, catching the glow of the parking lights overhead and turning into sparkles on her skin, making her face look like it was kissed with starlight.

“Why didn’t you keep the crown?” he asked, his voice husky.

“Because the right knight didn’t give it to me.”

His heart kicked into a gallop at the implication behind her words. He searched her eyes, knowing that he was about to do something very stupid, but totally unable to stop himself.

“You want to go out on a date sometime?”

She giggled softly and nodded at him. “Yeah.”

“You would?”

“Uh-huh.” Then her smile slipped, and she sighed, her eyebrows furrowing. “But . . . I don’t like leaving Ryan alone.”

Colt could understand this. Frankly he didn’t love the idea of leaving Ryan all alone at his house either.

“I’m off on Thursday,” he said. “How about I pick you two up after work and bring you home? After Ryan goes to bed, you can come downstairs and we’ll, you know, have a date.”