I’m a goddamn Colter, and Colters never quit, never give up.
He came from a stubborn lineage, men who never stopped trying. It was the reason they were all so wealthy today. Every Colter ancestor had been tenacious—some of them downright cantankerous. But they had never stopped trying to start new businesses, to keep progressing.
Tate hadn’t survived years of nearly suicidal missions only to lose the only woman he’d ever wanted. Not. Happening. Lara was about to find out just how ornery and insistent he could really be.
Sunday afternoon, Lara stood at the picture window of Tate’s home, and watched him walk Shep. She smiled as she saw his lips move; he was talking to the puppy, probably telling the dog how unreasonable she was being.
Tate had spent all day yesterday trying to sell her on the merits of staying in Colorado. After she’d finished with an early-morning session with Chloe at the gym, he’d taken her skiing. By the end of the day, her ass had been bruised and battered, but she’d been able to stay on her skis in an upright position down the beginner slopes. And it had been fun, challenging, and they’d laughed a lot, something she didn’t do a whole lot of in her life up until she’d met Tate.
He’d flown her to Denver for dinner last night, wining and dining her, complete with roses and champagne. He’d been sweet and seductive, bringing her home and taking her straight to bed, where he’d rocked her world all over again.
If he was trying to sell her on Colorado and the billionaire lifestyle, she definitely had no arguments. Tate had an incredible family, a gorgeous home, and she already loved Colorado. It was different from living in Washington, but in a good way. It was peaceful, and Rocky Springs was a wonderful small town.
The problem was…she was in love with Tate Colter.
She sighed as she propped her hip against the window, and watched him patiently wait for Shep to find a place to pee. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to stay; she couldn’t stay. Her heart already felt lacerated and painful. Being around Tate every day and not blurting out exactly how she felt would be impossible.
He wanted her to stay, but that didn’t mean he loved her. Tate didn’t seem ready to love, and she couldn’t stand the agony of loving somebody as much as she loved him and not have the emotions reciprocated.
It’s not his fault that he doesn’t feel the same way.
Lara didn’t blame him. Maybe he wasn’t ready, or maybe she just wasn’t his forever woman. She didn’t regret the time she had spent with him. He’d…changed her somehow, made her feel like a woman. Now that he’d opened a new world to her, she couldn’t go back. And she couldn’t ignore the fact that her heart was wide open to him, and he didn’t want it.
Staying would just be a Band-Aid to her open wound. It might feel better for a time, but in the end she’d be devastated. She’d have to rip off the Band-Aid and let her heart heal—if that was even possible. Somehow, Lara didn’t think she was going to get over Tate Colter anytime soon. She’d never met a man like him, and she knew plenty of guys. He was…unique.
She turned away from the window; her eyes flooded with tears. As she sat down at the table, she swiped them away angrily. The last thing she needed was for Tate to see her crying. He had enough to deal with in his family right now. He didn’t need a pathetic, weepy woman who loved him so much that she could hardly breathe when she thought about leaving him.
At dinner the night before, she’d asked Tate whether he wanted to talk about Marcus. She knew he was torn up inside, but he didn’t want to speak about it. He said it was too soon, and he had to sort out his feelings. He was in denial, and Lara knew Marcus’s betrayal would eventually crash down on him. She wanted to help him, but she didn’t want to push if he wasn’t ready to talk.
Maybe he’ll call me when he’s ready to talk.
One thing was for certain: she’d talk to him about it even if hearing his voice from so far away nearly killed her. He’d need someone to listen when he finally accepted what Marcus had done.
Tate came into the house just then, leaving his boots on the porch and letting Shep off the leash. He took off his jacket and hat; his hair had that spiky style that made her want to jump him. Okay, she always wanted to jump him, but it made the urge even stronger. He looked particularly attractive today in a pair of faded jeans and a tan fisherman’s sweater.
Shep bounded toward her, wiggling at her feet and trying to crawl up the leg of her jeans. She picked him up with a happy laugh and snuggled him against the cotton of her long-sleeved turtleneck. “Why do you always come to me when you’re cold?” She shivered as the dog’s tiny, cold body huddled against her.
“Because you’re so hot. He knows how to get warm. Smart dog,” Tate said with a naughty smirk.
She rolled her eyes at Tate, but she secretly loved it when he inferred that she was attractive. A man who actually treated her as if she was a desirable woman was still a novelty for her, and she ate it up as though it was chocolate.
Lara sneaked a peek at Tate’s perfect, tight ass while he walked into the kitchen to get Shep’s food. The dog leaped off her lap the moment Tate filled the puppy’s bowl. “Abandoned for food,” she grumbled good-naturedly.
Tate looked at her from across the room, his eyes heated. “I guess he isn’t always smart. I’d give up the food to be cuddled up to you in a heartbeat.”
She shot him back a silly grin. “I’m honored.”
Lara startled as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll grab it. It’s probably your mom and Chloe,” Lara said as she hopped up, always glad to see Aileen and Chloe. She hadn’t expected to see them today because she and Tate visited with them at the resort yesterday morning after she and Chloe were done in the gym.
She opened the door with a smile, a happy expression that faded to confusion as she saw a completely different face than the ones she had expected. “Blake? I thought you were still in Washington.”
The expression on Tate’s brother’s face was grim, and he was minus his cowboy hat today. He was dressed in a dark custom suit and a dark wool winter jacket.
“May I come in?” he asked politely.
Lara opened the door and let him step inside.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Marcus?” Tate’s angry voice sounded from behind Lara.
Marcus? This was Marcus?
“Are you sure?” she asked Tate sharply as she stepped back from the man who had just entered and drew her gun from the holster at her back. She was certain Tate was correct. It seemed impossible, but he recognized his own brothers.