Page 57 of Colt
The question hit harder than she probably intended. I did want to know.
The problem wasn’t that I felt nothing. The problem was that I felt things. Every time I looked at Colt—really looked at him, past the leather and the tattoos and the sheer physical fact of him—I caught glimpses that didn’t fit the careful distance I’d been keeping.
The way his eyes softened when the boys climbed on him, like they weighed nothing and he’d carry them forever. The patience in his hands when he taught them to ride, the same instruction given six times without a flicker of frustration. He’d cut his sandwich into triangles last Tuesday because Knox had once mentioned, offhandedly, that squares tasted wrong. He hadn’t made a thing of it. He’d just done it.
I didn’t remember falling in love with him. I didn’t remember the wedding, or the years, or whatever we’d been to each other before everything fell apart. But I was starting to understand how it might have happened. This man—not a ghost, not a story, but the actual man who showed up every day and asked for nothing—I liked him.
“I don’t know.” I turned it over. “I’d need to think about what the boys—”
We heard feet on the stairs—both sets at once, which meant either someone had been listening and gone to fetch backup, or it was simply their uncanny ability to materialize whenever something important was happening.
Luca appeared in the doorway first, Knox half a step behind him. “Think about what?”
I looked at Betty. Betty looked at Indira. Indira looked deeply unbothered.
“I might go out for dinner tonight,” I said. “With your dad.”
They looked at each other. I’d seen the twin look a hundred times—a whole conversation on some private frequency I couldn’t tune into. A whole conversation in the space of two seconds. Then they looked back at me.
“Okay,” Luca said.
Knox nodded once. “Good.”
That was it. No questions, no protests, no looking at me like something might break. Justokayandgood, delivered with the calm of two boys who had apparently already decided how they felt about this.
“Tonight,” Indira added. “He’s picking her up at seven.”
“Who’s watching us?” Luca asked. He already knew it wasn’t Betty. She’d reminded us at breakfast that she had her book club tonight.
“Dutch and me. You’ll be at the clubhouse until Betty is home.” Indira tilted her head. “Handful mentioned something about card tricks.”
Another look between them. Shorter this time.
“Can we stay up late?” Knox asked.
“Until nine,” Indira said.
“Nine-thirty,” Luca countered.
“Nine-fifteen, then bed until Dutch brings you home. Don’t push your luck.”
Luca considered this with the gravity of someone reviewing terms. “Deal.”
I looked at my boys, who had been my whole world for so long. They were fine with this. They were more than fine. They were already negotiating bedtimes.
“One dinner,” I said finally. “That’s it.”
Indira’s smile was triumphant. “I already told Colt to pick you up at seven.”
I walked back to my room and stood in front of the mirror for a long moment.One dinner. That’s it.I wasn’t sure who I was trying to convince. I hadn’t said yes because Indira pushed me into it. I’d said yes because I wanted to. I stood with that for a moment before I started wondering about where Colt would take me on what was our second first date.
Chapter 22
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— Colt —
I’d faced down rival MCs, stared death in the face more times than I could count, and walked through fire for my club.
