The old man chuckled. “She mentioned a bow.”
“A ponytail,” Beth Ann said in a mock huff. “And that was only if he wanted to keep his hair long. Which he didn’t. And he looks very handsome now. Just like his son.”
Beth Ann smiled, and Colt smiled back at her. His dad, however, wasn’t smiling any longer. He was watching Beth Ann thoughtfully.
Colt couldn’t take his eyes off her, either. He was so proud of her. Here was his redneck father, the town’s biggest joke, and she was helping him fix his hair and bragging to him about Colt. He got that damn knot in his throat again. God, he loved her so much. He wanted to pull her into his arms and bury his face in her hair. She was at his side. Whatever he had to do to take care of this, she was at his side and would support him.
He suddenly felt like the luckiest f**king man on earth.
He moved to his dad’s side, took his hand, clasped it. “I had Dane swing by and get Roscoe, Dad. He’s going to stay out at the ranch for a few days.”
His dad nodded, looking over him. “You look good, son. Like a man.”
He nodded. Because hell, what could he say to that?
The older man’s eyes brimmed suddenly. “You look like your mother.”
Beth Ann cast Colt an anxious look and she hopped to her feet. “I’m heading down to the cafeteria to get some snacks. I’ll pick up some stuff and be back shortly.” She leaned in and kissed Colt on the cheek before slipping out of the room.
Colt said nothing, simply gripped his father’s hand as he composed himself. He wiped his eyes with shaking hands, then nodded at the door. “Isn’t that Allan Sunquist’s girl?”
He gritted his teeth. “They broke up last year, Dad. She’s with me.” I love her.
But his father looked concerned. “Allan must be furious. He’s never liked you.”
“I don’t care what he thinks, Dad.”
He shook his head. “He hates you because of your mother. You just be careful of him, Colt. Those Sunquist men can be ruthless bastards. They don’t care who they hurt as long as they get their way.”
Odd that they were talking about this. “Beth Ann is done with him, Dad. I’ve got it taken care of.”
“She’s never going to be done with him as long as you’re with her, son.” He shook his head. “Find yourself a different girl. A girl that Sunquist boy don’t have his sights on.”
Irritation flashed through him. A girl that wasn’t out of reach of a Waggoner boy, did he mean? “I’m with Beth Ann. She’s the one that I want, and I’m not changing my mind just because Allan is obsessed with her.”
“It’s not just her,” his father said. “It’s you. You and your mother.”
“What the f**k does Mom have to do with anything?” he exploded, then bit his lip. Christ. He was yelling at a sick man in a hospital bed.
But his father seemed to accept his outburst. He patted Colt’s hand. “Because of your mother,” he repeated. “And who you are.”
“And who am I?” he asked in a dry voice.
“Not my son,” Henry said quietly.
Colt stiffened. He hadn’t heard that right. “Come again?”
Henry gave him a guilty look, ran a hand down his haggard face. “It’s true. I’m not your real father, Colt. Andrew Sunquist is. Your mother slept with him, got pregnant, and when he wouldn’t marry her, she married me.”
Colt stared down at him in shock. “You’re delirious. The meds—”
“Allan knows, son,” he said softly. “He’s known since you were teenagers.”
“And you never told me?”
“You hated me enough. I didn’t want you to hate me even more.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t give you what the Sunquists had, and I knew he wouldn’t acknowledge you publicly. Your mother wasn’t around to confirm it, either. You resented us enough—you would have hated us even more if I told you.”
He stared down at his father, at the wide nose, the bushy eyebrows. He’d always looked like his mother, he assumed. He remembered her—pretty but sad. But then he thought of Allan. Of his narrow, blade-like eyes. Just like Colt’s. And his father had been a smiley lawyer who had moved to Houston years ago. Died early, too. He remembered the picture of the man in the newspaper, of him smiling and laughing with a senator. He’d had a dimple in his cheek. The same one Colt did.
Nausea flooded through him.
He recalled Allan’s words. “You want her because she’s with me. Because you want what I have. This is some sick revenge game, right?”
Oh, hell.
“I’m sorry, son,” Henry said. “I wish you were mine. I’ve always been proud of you.”
And all his life, he’d resented a man who had no money, but had still married a woman pregnant with another man’s child and raised him as if he were his own. Even after his mother had left Texas, leaving Henry with four small boys to look after.
Emotion burned in the back of his throat and he clasped his father’s hand harder. “Beth Ann doesn’t know. I don’t want to tell her until the time is right.”
His father looked at him sadly. “I don’t know how she’ll take it.”
Not well, Colt knew. Not because it was his fault, but because of what he represented to her. Would she still love him if she knew he was just the poorer, paler version of Allan?
Or would she be sick at the thought of touching him?
FIFTEEN
When Colt’s father went to sleep, Beth Ann insisted on dragging Colt back to his cabin with her. “He’s just going to sleep all night,” she soothed, concerned about the stark look on his face. He’d held his father’s hand all afternoon, and even though the man was going to be fine, she knew Colt was concerned. In a private moment while his father was napping, Colt had admitted the state of his father’s home and the warrants for his arrest if he didn’t get it cleaned up. Henry couldn’t move back there.
But the problem with the property and the warrants couldn’t be solved that night. At her fussing and Henry’s insistence, they drove from Huntsville back to Bluebonnet, then out to the ranch. Colt hadn’t protested when she’d offered to drive.
Nor had he protested when she’d checked his fridge, found nothing in it, and insisted on going to the main lodge to make him a few sandwiches. When she’d returned, he still wore that stark look on his face, and she’d had to coax him to eat. He’d wolfed the sandwich down without a thought, and when it was gone, he tugged her into his lap and just hugged her close.
She felt tears prick her eyes, and ran her fingers along his scalp lovingly. What a terrible, tough day for him. “I’m sure we can figure out a solution for your father.”
He nodded, then tilted his face up. She kissed his lips automatically, smoothing her fingers over his cheeks, caressing him.
“How was work?” he asked. “Business picking up?”
“Not yet, but I’m hopeful,” she said. She’d always be hopeful. If it didn’t pick up, well, she didn’t like to think about that.
It’s because of who you’re dating, that awful voice whispered, and it sounded a lot like Allan in her head. She ignored it and slid from Colt’s lap, tugging on his hand. “Come to bed.”
He rubbed his face and nodded, rolling into bed, fully dressed.
She laughed and tugged at his boots. “You can’t sleep like that.”
“I’ve slept in mud,” he said, and she could almost hear the amusement in his voice. “Sleeping in my clothes ain’t nothing.”
Well, she wasn’t going to wake up with a hiking boot in her back. She plucked at his laces until they were undone, then wrapped her hands around his boot and tugged. It fell to the ground, and she quickly removed the other, just as his hand began to languidly trail up her leg. When she turned to unbuckle his belt, he was watching her with avid, hot eyes. Her fingers stroked over the crotch of his jeans, finding him hard already. His hand smoothed up and down her leg, caressing her. She rubbed her hand along his shaft, then loosened his belt. When she undid his zipper, she slipped her hand inside, cupped his hot length through his briefs. He groaned in need.
“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me, Beth Ann.”
She gave him a saucy smile. “You always say the sweetest things when I have my hand on your cock, Colt Waggoner.”
Tonight, he wasn’t in a teasing mood, though. The look he gave her was solemn. “It’s true.”
She laughed lightly.
He wasn’t laughing. He continued to stare up at her. His hand moved to her cheek, brushed his thumb over her lip. “I love you.”
Her breath caught in her throat. He…She hadn’t expected that. Colt was someone who scowled whenever he saw a sappy commercial on TV. She knew he cared about her, had assumed in time that he might confess how he felt. And she didn’t mind waiting. But this. This felt like…a gift, with him staring up at her so intensely, need in his eyes.
Unexpected emotion pricked at her throat. She slid onto the bed, straddled him, and leaned over his body to kiss his mouth. “I love you, too,” she whispered, and then flexed her h*ps down over his.
Colt groaned, his hands moving to her br**sts and pinching the n**ples through her shirt. Desire crashed through her and she gasped against his mouth. He thrust against her, grinding his c*ck against her core.
“Get undressed,” he said, his voice a harsh rasp. “I want to see your br**sts bouncing while you ride my cock.”
His words made her inhale sharply at the mental image, and she tugged her top off, casting it to the floor. She’d worn a camisole instead of a bra today, and it was quickly discarded as well.
His fingers went to her n**ples, brushing over them, his movements gentle and teasing. As she rolled off him to remove her pants, he removed his own. Moments later, she straddled him again, feeling the hard length of him resting against her p**sy. She rocked against his heat, sliding her h*ps up and down on him. She wasn’t wet enough—not yet. So she placed his hands back on her br**sts and sat up, gazing down at his intense face, while he gently teased and rolled her n**ples against his thumbs. His h*ps flexed slowly under her, making her body rise, and her pulse began to beat slow and steady through her body, thrumming with building need. Her own hands moved to his n**ples, playing with them, feeling the hard nubs against her own fingers, flicking them to watch his response.
His eyes were gleaming slits as he watched her, his h*ps bucking underneath her again, rolling gently. “You wet enough to take me, Beth Ann?”
“Hmm,” she said softly, and reached down between her legs, sliding two fingers into her p**sy. She pulled her hand away again and brushed her fingers against his mouth. “What do you think?”
She could tell from the look on his face that her small movement had pleased him. But her own breath gasped in her throat when he caught her hand in his and held her fingers against his mouth. He sucked one deep into his mouth, his tongue rasping as he licked it clean. “Delicious.”