Dark Sexy Knight (A Modern Fairytale)(47)

She was so effortlessly bright and beautiful, his breath caught. It seemed like, if she pricked her finger, she wouldn’t bleed red—she’d bleed sunshine. And it just about f*cking leveled him that she was here, that this sweet goddess of a girl wanted to spend her precious time with him.

Not to mention, over the past week, she hadn’t worn shorts, even though it had been pretty hot. She wore a bathrobe in the morning and sundresses most days to work. He’d seen her in jeans too, but these cutoffs were new to him, and super-short, and his mouth watered as he stared at her tan legs.

“Colton?” she said, her voice filled with laughter.

“H-hey,” he stuttered, standing up from the foot of the bed. “You look . . .”

She shrugged. “Grubby?”

“Gorgeous,” he said, unable to look away from her blue eyes.

Her lips tilted up into a pleased smile, and she stepped into his room, looking around for a moment before pointing at the TV. “Only TV in the house.”

“It’s just been me here for years.”

Something passed over her face as she turned to look at him. Something soft and sweet that made his heart clench with longing. Verity Gwynn kept the loneliness he’d felt for the past few years at bay. Were he to lose her, he knew it would return again, only worse than before because now he knew how it felt to have her warmth in his space.

Don’t go. Stay with me.

“You have wine,” she said, dropping a glance to his bedside table.

“Still want some?”

“Sure,” she said over her shoulder, walking over to his dumbbells. She fingered them as he poured two glasses. “It’s like a mini gym in here. You work out a lot?”

“Yeah.” He held out the glass.

“It’s your favorite thing at the castle too,” she commented, taking the stem between her fingers. “The stables . . . and the gym.”

“You remember,” he said, sitting back down on the edge of the bed to give her a little space to explore.

“Of course.” She lifted her glass and grinned. “What are we drinking to?”

Colt raised his glass. “To you.”

“Why not to you?”

He shrugged, giving her a small smile. “To . . . us?”

“Okay. To us,” she said, lifting the glass to take a sip. “Ooh! Yummy! What is it?”

He flicked a glance at the bottle. He had no idea what it was. The label was bright yellow and had a cupcake on it, which had somehow felt like Verity. “White?”

She giggled. “That’s about all I know about wine too. It’s either red or white.” She took a look at her glass. “Really it’s yellow. But I guess that would make people think of pee, so they say white instead . . .” She sighed, wrinkling her nose at him. “I think I’m nervous.”

“Don’t be. No expectations, remember?”

She nodded, turning back to his weights and taking another sip of wine. “How come you work at The Legend of Camelot? Seems like maybe you should be working at a gym.”

“I probably should be,” he said.

She looked at him over her shoulder. “So?”

“I found my job pretty much the same way you found yours.”

“You and your desperate-for-work, developmentally disabled sibling went to a job fair ready to scrub toilets if you could find work at the same place, and a Viking Knight saved your skin instead?”

Fuck, but he loved the way she looked at him when she said things like that. It made him want to be the man—or even the knight in shining armor—that she saw in him.

He shook his head. “Nah. I was trying to get a job on a reality show called The Gym, but by the time I got to the recruiting table, they already had over five hundred sign-ups for open auditions and had closed the list. Next to them was the TLOC table, and Lynette asked if I had any interest in being a knight. The rest, as they say . . .”

“. . . is history?”

He sighed because part of him hated that it had worked out that way, and he wanted her to understand. “Look, working as a knight in a corny dinner show isn’t exactly my idea of a long-term career, but at the time I needed a steady job to take care of this house and . . .”

Melody.

Although Aunt Jane had purchased Mel’s apartment at Bonnie’s Place before she died, and left a trust for her care in Colt’s name, it simply didn’t cover everything. His paycheck was necessary to keep Mel comfortable. His aunt and uncle had taken him in when he had nowhere to go and cared for him like their own son. Caring for Mel was his way of repaying them their kindness, and he wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“And?”

There had been moments over the course of the past week when he’d almost told her about Mel, and he’d add this moment to that list, but the timing still felt premature.

He shrugged. “My car, living expenses. You know, the regular.”

“I know,” she said. “Bills and expenses. Try taking care of someone else too. It’s tough.”

“I admire the way you look after Ryan.”

“I know . . .” Her lips twitched, and she took another sip of wine. “I know he’s big and awkward and a little goofy, but he’s the only family I’ve got. When I was born, Ry was already eight years old, and he’d already had his accident. But he was always a gentle giant. And he always loved me. Loved playing with his little sister. Watching TV. Pushing me on the swing. Dragging me around in his red wagon. Singing songs to me. Leading our daddy’s horse around the farm with me on her back. I was . . . unplanned, and my parents were busy on the farm. Ryan was . . . he was my sweet place, you know?”