Page 59 of Colt

It still haunts me.

What’s his story? Why is he so hell-bent on hating what I do?

Get a life, Lainey. Stop thinking about that douche canoe already. He literally bit you, for crying out loud. What kind of man bites people like that?

I get in my pajamas and blow-dry my hair. That’s when the idea hits.

Ulysses. Uma.

U and U. Two u’s.

Double u’s. My stomach drops.

Double U. W. That’s D-o-u-b-l-e-u spelled out.

Turning off the blow-dryer, I sprint for my notebook and write it all down.

I drop my pencil. “Oh my God, that’s it. Double U Ranch. Oh my God!”

Go figure, I can actually be clever upon occasion. I may feel more than a little defeated over the fact that I don’t know what’s next for me. I know my parents are disappointed that I haven’t landed a “real” job yet. But at the very least, I can delight myself every once in a while. Right now, that feels like a win.

I wonder if what just went down in the barn has anything to do with this sudden burst of creativity. After having that conversation with my mom, my mojo had been totally in the shitter. Coming up with ideas felt like pulling teeth.

But all of a sudden, the creative juices are flowing. Even if I still feel a stab of self-hatred for letting my guard down like that.

Holy shit, does Colton have a magic dick?

I didn’t even touch it, and yet its powers are already at work. I wanted to touch it, don’t get me wrong. His cock really is beautiful.

It’s the kind of cock dreams are made of. I wonder if he’ll let me see it again. Touch it.

Taste it.

My God. I’m in trouble.

I’m working on my presentation deck the following week on a quiet Sunday morning when there’s a knock on my door.

My stomach dips in a way that’s quickly becoming familiar. I have no idea who it could be. Obviously I hope it’s Colton.

Wait, why do you hope it’s Colton? You hate him.

I didn’t expect to hear anything from him. We don’t have each other’s numbers or anything. But I’ve run into him even less than usual since the Barn Incident (capitalization my own), which makes me think he’s trying extra hard to avoid me.

Not like I care. Just feels like a ridiculous waste of energy on his part.

Be honest. You want it to happen again. The hate sex. Hate hookup. Whatever that was.

Shoving the thought from my head, I leap out of my chair. I don’t bother closing my laptop. Instead, I check my reflection in the mirror, giving my hair a quick fluff before loping down the stairs.

I open the door, and the air promptly leaves my lungs when I see a horse.

Correction: There are three horses. There are also two cowboys, one hanging out behind the other so I can’t see him. The one I can see sits astride his horse with an authority that makes me short of breath.

The third horse wears a saddle but doesn’t have a rider.

My vital organs dissolve inside my skin, turning my body into one giant heartbeat when I look up and see Colton sitting on his gigantic horse.

His wrists are crossed over the pommel of the saddle. His sleeves are rolled up, revealing thick, veiny forearms that legitimately bring a tear to my eye.