Page 81 of Fierce-Colson

“Colson lifts weights,” Bella said. “He has them in a spare room. I want to try them sometime. Can I?”

He turned toward Bella where they were standing outside his car having this conversation. “Sure. Don’t do it until I can make sure you don’t hurt yourself.”

“I won’t.”

He threw a restaurant name out, everyone agreed, then Marly went back to her car and they pulled out, her following them there.

“She’s really pretty, Colson,” Bella said.

Both girls were in the back seat. They always did that to be by each other and whisper.

Whatever made them happy.

“I think so,” he said. “But that is not all she’s about.”

“She’s got great style,” Tiff said. “My mother never looks that good when she’s wearing jeans on the weekend. I’m not sure my mother does anything more than put her hair in a ponytail and she never wears makeup if she doesn’t have to.”

“Remember, Marly is well known as the DA and in the public view.”

“So that means she can’t leave her house in sweats and slippers to get creamer like my mom does when there isn’t any?” Tiff asked. “That would suck. I don’t even like dressing up all the time.”

He laughed. The way teens saw the world.

But they weren’t wrong either. “No. I don’t know that you’d see her like that out in public. At home, sure, I bet she does.”

Or he’d like to think so.

Would she never be able to completely relax? They hadn’t been around each other in that capacity for him to know.

That was something to think about.

Shit, when he got home at night, he kicked his shoes off, changed his clothes and threw on shorts or sweats himself.

He didn’t even pay attention if there were stains on the clothing. It was home and he wanted to be comfortable.

At least he didn’t walk around in his underwear anymore. Those days were long gone.

“She seems very funny.”

“She is,” he said.

“You’re smiling,” Bella said, pointing her finger. “I can see it. You like her.”

Oh shit. This was getting out of hand.

“If I didn’t like her, you wouldn’t have met her.”

“Can we ask her about her job?” Tiff asked.

“No. Or anything you ask, she won’t answer. Just like me.”

Tiff always had a million questions, then would laugh when he avoided any answers.

“That sucks,” Tiff said. “I bet she knows all the good gossip in town.”

“You don’t have to be the DA to know those things. Or an officer,” he said drily.

“I know. My mom always knows gossip. She gets it on Facebook. She’s always on it and it’s lame.”