The True Cowboy of Sunset Ridge (Gold Valley #14)(63)

And he never felt like that, not in his entire life.

No, he’d surrendered his entire life to fate. Except, it hadn’t been in a glorious or grateful sort of way, no. It had been a middle finger at death. It had been a dare.

Come at me.

Come take me.

And then it had taken the person closest to him instead.

He buried his face in her hair, inhaled her deep. And she wiggled more closely to him, her soft curves molding to his.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” she asked.

“Really? That’s what you want to talk about? My to-do list for tomorrow?”

She huffed a laugh. “Actually, I was planning on sitting down with you when I came in the door and having a rational discussion with you about what exactly is happening between us. But then I walked in and you started kissing me. So that kind of answers that question.”

His chest went tight. “Does it?”

“Yeah. We’re doing this. For now.”

And suddenly, all that tightness dissolved, collecting at the base of his sternum, turning into lead. “Yeah. For now.”

“So,” she said. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

“Nothing that can’t be moved? Did you need anything?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. What I was wondering was...” She moved, her chin resting on her hands, which were resting on his chest, as she stared at him intently. “Will you come look at my clinic tomorrow? I have some things that I need to fix. I want to consult with someone who obviously knows a thing or two about wood.”

A laugh escaped him, without his permission. “Is that a double entendre?”

“Well, no,” she said, moving one hand and sliding it down his body, curving her fingers around his already reinvigorated arousal. “But it could be.”

“Mallory,” he said, her name strained. “You’re killing me.”

“Good.”

“Yes. I will come down to your clinic.”

“Thank you,” she said, nuzzling against his neck. “I’m glad that I came here, Colt. I feel like maybe you were fate after all.”

“Fate?” That word sat unsteady in his mind, tasted like metal on his tongue.

“That’s what I thought. The first time I saw you. But I think it was bigger than I thought. I mean, I was just thinking I was attracted to you. But... Now I can’t imagine this without you. Without having met you. Without Lily.”

“Mallory,” he said. “I can’t...”

“Oh,” she said, her head popping up slightly. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t mean like happily-ever-after fate. But we are friends. And I will always be happier because I know you. I’ll always be a better person because of this. Because of you.”

“That’s giving an awful lot of credit to my... Wood.”

It was her turn to laugh, and he’d said that to try to make her laugh, but he still felt uneasy with it. Because he’d intentionally worked to lighten a moment that he wasn’t sure could be lightened. That he wasn’t sure could be anything but the same kind of heavy.

But he was tired of heavy. Right then. He’d taken it as his punishment. As his due. Had worked to get strong enough to hold it, but right then he just didn’t want to. Because she was looking at him like he might be something great, and that wasn’t something he was supposed to want. Not anymore.

Because the other person who thought he was great was Trent.

His heart squeezed. He thought of Lily, and the way he played her to sleep last night. He hadn’t seen the point in music. Not until right in that moment. And he had to admit to himself that he missed it. That it was a part of him that he was ignoring, denying. Another form of punishment, rather than simply a lack of desire.

“It deserves a lot of credit,” she said.

“I’m glad you think so.”

He tipped her chin up and started to kiss her again. He was ready. Ready to have her again. Under him, over him, in front of him. However.

Just then, a thin cry split the air. He laughed, rolling onto his back. It wasn’t a laugh because he thought it was funny. It was mostly just because... He wasn’t sure what the hell his life was right then.

But then, he’d been constantly stunned to be alive since the age of fifteen. And right then, with Mallory’s naked body on one side, and the sound of a crying baby coming from the next room, he felt outside of his body. Like he was living someone else’s fate. Someone else’s life.

“I’ll get her,” he said.

Mallory kissed his lips. “No. I’ll get her. You sleep.”

She patted his chest, and he was about to say no. About to say he didn’t need sleep. But somehow, right then... He wanted to rest. Because Mallory had said that he could. And there was something about the way she looked at him, like he deserved to rest and so, Colt rested. And when he closed his eyes, it was her face that he saw.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN


COLT STOOD OUTSIDE the clinic, a little arts and crafts–style house that was the worse for wear on the outside. It was neat, but it definitely needed a bit of a tune-up.

There was a broad, sweeping tree out front that offered shade in the little yard. And it was definitely... Tranquil.

“This is it,” Mallory said, turning around and spreading her arms. She had Lily in the front pack, at her insistence—since he was going to be put to work she’d said—and she looked... Damn, she was beautiful. Her curly hair was especially buoyant today, and she complained about it whenever it was like that, but he really liked it. He more than liked it. He didn’t really think there was a word for what he felt about it. The way that it moved with her. The way that it was wild and refused to be tamed. She was wearing another of her simple little dresses. This one a ribbed fabric in a mustard yellow that clung to her curves. And she would probably be horrified to know this, but when she walked, sometimes the fabric clung to her ass in such a way that he could see the whole shape of it, and he considered it a true gift.