You’ll get it out of your system.
And then go back to Allan.
She looked around the ugly duplex she couldn’t afford.
Despair crashed over her. Beth Ann sagged against a wall and slid to the ground, curling her legs close. Hot tears dripped down her face, ruining her careful makeup. She didn’t care. She swiped at the tears, but the more she swiped, the faster they fell.
She couldn’t afford to move out. Her business was failing. She was failing. Everyone thought she was just having a “moment.” That she’d regain her senses any minute now, and run screaming back to Allan because that was the only sane move.
And nobody liked her with Colt. When are you going to wise up and go back to Allan? You had such a good man, everyone told her.
But she had a good man now. And she should have said it, should have defended him. But no one listened to what she said anyhow.
Everyone thought they knew what she needed better than she did.
And it was just too much.
A quick knock came at the front door a few moments later, and before she could respond, the door opened and Colt stuck his head in. “Hey darlin’—”
His gaze darkened as he came inside, studied her from where she was crumpled in the entryway of the small, cramped duplex, her face covered in tears. As she watched, his jaw hardened. He very carefully shut the door behind him, then eased down onto the floor next to her, mindful of his knee, and took her hand.
He still smelled of wood smoke and campfires. He’d wanted to see her so badly he hadn’t even stopped to shower yet. For some reason, she liked that.
“Was it that cocksucker?” he asked, his voice flat and deadly. “Do I need to go rip his dick off to give him the hint?”
She shook her head, wiping at her cheeks. “I think…I think I’m just having a bad day.”
He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, kissed her hair. She snuggled up against him and sighed, resting her cheek against his shoulder.
“You want to talk about it?”
She didn’t want to talk about all of it, because she knew it’d hurt his feelings. He didn’t say much about his family, but she knew that he was sensitive about it. She’d be blind not to know that. “I want to move out from my parents’ place,” she said in a quavering voice. “As long as I’m there, they’re going to drive me crazy with society parties and stupid fund-raisers and trying to push me back toward Allan because he has money.”
“I’ll help you move out,” he said slowly. He leaned in and she felt him rest his cheek against the top of her head, and her heart melted just a little. “You like this place, darlin’?”
“Not really,” she said with a hiccup, and then laughed at herself. “I’m being a snob. It’s small and the bathroom sucks and I think the neighbor is growing pot in his backyard. But I can’t afford it anyhow. I can’t afford anything.”
“You want to borrow a few grand from me?”
Oh heavens, that would just make her feel worse. She shook her head, her fingers stroking down his arm as she stared at the empty, tiny living room, the brand-new yellow carpet. “When I moved in with Allan, I let him pay for everything. He paid the rental on the house. He bought both of our cars. If I wanted something, he bought it. When we broke up the first time…I didn’t have anything. My bank account had been joint with Allan’s bank account, and we’d long since used up my money to send him through business school. I didn’t even go to college. What was I going to do with a degree anyhow? I was only good at looking pretty and fixing hair. So I thought I’d go to beauty school. I’d hidden money over the last year Allan and I were together, and I used that to put myself through beauty school. There was nothing left for opening a salon. I had to borrow money from my parents for a car. I borrowed money from the bank—money that my parents had to cosign for—to start my business. And no one is convinced I can do it on my own.” She gave a watery sigh. “No one understands why the mayor’s daughter wants to play at having a business and do people’s hair. And everyone seems to think I’m going to come to my senses and jump right back into Allan’s arms.”
“You’re not,” he said, rubbing her shoulder. “You want to be your own person. I get that. I fought for that for years.” He paused for a moment, then stroked her hair. “When I was in high school, I hated everyone and everything in this town.”
“You hated me, too?” she asked with a faint smile.
“I did,” he admitted.
“That’s okay,” she said with a sigh. “I was pretty stupid back then.”
“You were with Allan back then,” he said. “And I was a nobody. One of the Waggoner boys that lived out in a trailer in the junkyard.”
She remembered. He’d been there on the fringes of memory—a lean, angry teenage boy in ragged jeans with a permanent scowl on his face.
“When I was in high school,” he began slowly, “I wanted so desperately to get away from this place that I couldn’t stand it. I’d spend nights running at the school track, doing push-ups and drills, because I couldn’t wait to get into basic training. The day after graduation, I enlisted. I shipped out to basic and never looked back. I was so desperate to make something of myself that I wanted to forget everything that I’d been for the last eighteen years. I was going to remake myself into a new man.”
Her fingers linked in his. “And did you like the marines?”
“I loved it,” he admitted. “I’d still be there if it wasn’t for my knee. Two surgeries and I had limited mobility for a few years. Not enough to permanently sideline me, but enough to destroy my career.”
She pressed her mouth to his arm. “I’m sorry.”
“I spent a lot of time doing survival-training routines when in the marines. When I got out, I decided I didn’t want to be around anyone. I bought some land out in the middle of nowhere, Alaska, and built a cabin. I lived off the grid—no running water, no electricity, no nothing—for a year. And when I came into town one day, I called Dane just to find out how he was doing, and his life was a f**ked-up mess. I was in the middle of some survival classes. Invited Dane. Didn’t realize how much he’d like it. I invited him to come join me. We lived up in the mountains for an entire year. No power, no phones, nothing. But then Dane wanted to come back. And Grant offered the survival business.”
“But you would have stayed?” she guessed.
He shrugged. “I didn’t care one way or another. But Dane missed people. And I think he was worried about Grant. Grant’s wife died five years ago, and the man was still a mess. At ends. Scrambling for projects to fill the day. Dane wanted to help him. So I came.”
She’d had no idea. Grant seemed so together. Actually, all three men did. Her hand stroked along the cords of his arm. “Do you regret coming back?”
“Some days,” he said lazily, and her heart twanged in response. “But I like you, and I like my friends, and right now that’s enough for me. The rest of the town could fall off the map tomorrow and I wouldn’t give a shit.”
She could understand that. “I shouldn’t care so much that they don’t see me as my own person,” she said softly.
“You care,” he said, rubbing her shoulder again. “Because you want to prove to them that you are, and they’re not seeing it.”
She nodded, and stared at the pile of papers in front of her, the keys carefully tagged to each page. “Look at that,” she said with disgust. She leaned out of his embrace and picked up the stack of paperwork and keys. “The Realtor trusted me with all of these people’s house keys. Why? Because I’m sweet little Beth Ann Williamson, who would never harm a fly or lie to a stranger. Why not trust me with all these people’s houses?” She tossed down the stack with disgust, and the keys jangled on the linoleum.
“You know what I think?” he drawled.
Beth Ann glanced over at him. “What?”
His sharp eyes glinted at her, and she saw a flash of dimple that made her knees weak. “They think you’re not the kind of girl to f**k her man in a stranger’s house.”
The breath caught in her throat, and desire began to pulse through her. “I bet that’s exactly what they think.”
“Want to prove them wrong?”
“Absolutely,” she breathed, a wicked smile curving her face.
He stood up, moved to the front door, and locked it. Colt turned back to her, his eyes gleaming. The front of his pants had tented, his c*ck already hard. “Shut the blinds, darlin’.”
She did, her body quivering with need. Her legs felt curiously weak—one touch from him and she’d collapse like a deck of cards. He did that to her. His touch never failed to make her feel naughty, and sexual, and oh so desirable. As if she were the most beautiful thing in the world and it was all he could do to keep his hands off of her.
She’d never felt like that before. Ever. And she craved it so badly.
As soon as she’d shut the blinds, Colt’s hand slid along her ass, cupping it through her dress. “You look stunning today,” he said, leaning in to nuzzle her neck. “My c*ck is hard as a rock just looking at you.”
Warmth flooded through her. No comments on whether her clothes were inappropriate or if her shoes were the wrong color. He just liked to look at her. Appreciated her. She tilted her neck so he could continue to kiss it, his hand burying in her thick fall of blond hair.
“More beautiful every time I see you,” he whispered against her skin.
She felt the same way. Nothing in Colt’s appearance had changed since they’d started to sleep together—she kept his hair cut crisp and short for him. He kept clean shaven. Wore the same kinds of clothes. But every time she saw him, it was like a punch in the gut. The long lashes of his narrow eyes. How had she ever thought them hard? How had she ever thought his beautiful, sensual mouth was turned down in a permanent frown? She lived for those flashes of dimple that told her he was truly amused. That she’d gotten to him.
His arms slid around her waist and pulled her close to him, cradling her, even as he continued to kiss her neck from behind. Not aggressively making love to her this time, then. He’d make love to her soft and sweet. For some reason, that made her eyes prick with new tears. She turned in his arms to face him. “Thank you,” she said softly.
He raised an eyebrow at her, inquiring. His hands flexed on her hips, soothing, rubbing. Caressing.
“For knowing what I need,” she said softly. “For listening to me. For seeing me.”
“Always.”
“I’m so glad I have someone like you in my life,” she said, laying her hand on his chest. Not over his tattoo this time, but she spread her fingers over his heart, as if she could touch it. “Someone I can lean on and trust when the world around me doesn’t seem to make sense any longer.”
“Trust,” he repeated softly, as if tasting the word.