Page 43 of Colt
Luca was quiet for a long moment. “Thanks,” he said so softly I almost missed it. “For… you know. Standing up for us.”
“Anytime,” I managed. “That’s what family does.”
Luca’s expression flickered at the wordfamily, but he didn’t pull away from it. Didn’t argue. He seemed to be wrestling with something, his jaw tight in a way I recognized.
“I’m going to bed now. Goodnight… Colt.”
He hesitated on my name, like he’d been about to say something else. “Goodnight, Luca.”
He went inside, the screen door closing softly behind him.
I sat on the porch for a long time, staring at the stars. He’d almost said it. I could feel the word he wasn’t ready to give me yet. He was still testing me, still waiting to see if I’d prove myself worthy.
And that was okay. I’d wait as long as it took. Because when he finally said it—when he finally called me Dad—I wanted him to mean it with his whole heart.
Chapter 16
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— Lilac —
I’d been standing in the doorway for a full minute before anyone noticed me. Colt was at Betty’s kitchen table with a piece of paper and a marker, drawing something—some kind of diagram—while the boys crowded on either side of him, close enough that their shoulders pressed against his arms. Knox was talking fast, pointing at things on the paper. Luca was quiet, watching. Not the watchful, guarded way he usually held himself around Colt. More like he was concentrating. Like whatever Colt was showing them had his full attention.
I didn’t announce myself. Just stood there.
Just weeks ago, I couldn’t have imagined this. The man my body remembered only in the way you remember a dream was sitting at Betty’s kitchen table, my boys pressing against his sides. And my boys—who didn’t know him, who had every reason to be careful—leaning in like they’d always done it.
Betty appeared at my elbow. “Coffee?” she offered, like she’d known I was there all along.
“Please.” I made myself look away from them and step fully into the kitchen. Knox’s head came up immediately.
“Mama!” He slid off the bench and crossed the room to grab my hand. “Colt was showing us how engines work! Did you know there’s something called a carburetor?”
“I did know that, yes.”
Luca was still looking at the diagram, his brow furrowed in the way it got when he was filing something away for later. Then he glanced up at me, and went still—a flash of wariness, like he was bracing for me to disrupt whatever had been happening here before I arrived.
I pulled out a chair and sat down.
Colt looked up. His eyes met mine briefly—a question in them, or an apology, or both—and then Knox said, “Can we ask her now?” which made me go still.
Colt opened his mouth to reply.
“Can Colt teach us to ride dirt bikes?” they both said, at once.
“Absolutely not.”
Colt raised his hands in surrender, while two six-year-olds bounced around him like excited puppies.
“Please, Mama!” Knox grabbed my hand, tugging insistently. “All our friends know how to ride! We’re the only ones who don’t!”
“Dirt bikes are dangerous. You could get hurt.”
“We could get hurt doing anything,” Luca pointed out with that infuriating logic he’d developed recently. “I got hurt at school and I wasn’t even doing anything dangerous.”
I shot him a look. “That’s not the same thing.”
“Colt said he’d teach us properly.” Knox was still bouncing. “He said he started riding when he was four. We’re six—”
