Keep It Together (3 page)

“Colt, I…” Shocked was putting it mildly. His smile was everything a woman could and often did get lost in. Straight pearly whites, full, sensual lips, and when he spoke, that Texas twang shot need right through her. But dear Lord, the man was suggesting they get married! That was a far cry from having hot monkey sex against a few trees, down in the grass, in every room of her house, which was what she’d been thinking about.

His presence was potent, and she’d never experienced anything like it. He was so calm and casual on the outside, but he obviously possessed a wicked sense of humor if he thought she’d been serious about marrying him.

Then again…

“I got your package in the mail as well and decided to take that as a good sign,” he was saying.

Chrissie forced herself to refocus on him. Marriage. What the hell did she feel about it? On one hand, it was completely ridiculous. On the other though, the man was delicious and gorgeous and she could definitely see herself getting lost in those eyes.

What was she thinking? What had he said? “Package? What…?” Her confusion lasted for barely a second. “You mean the ring?”

“Yes. Thank you. Russ’s mother was thrilled to have it back in her possession.”

“I’m sure. I had no intention of keeping it. I just couldn’t bring myself to send it back to Russ.” It was the first time in one hundred eighty-two days since the last time she’d said his name, not that she was counting, and she found that she felt… “Nothing.”

“I’m sorry? Nothing?”

Chrissie thought she’d feel something. Pain. Bitterness. Regret. Something. Anything. But there was nothing at all. She couldn’t help the smile that crossed her lips.

She’d spent so much time healing. When she was awake, that is. Asleep was a different story. Colt somehow healed her in her dreams. Damn, the man was fine. And he was standing in front of her, flesh and blood. Yummy.

“What’s that smile for?”

“I’m over him,” she said. “I’m over him,” she repeated, louder this time, with a wider smile and a lightness she hadn’t felt in months.

Colt laughed. “Are you just now realizing that?”

“For certain? Yes.” She wanted to bounce and jump and run and dance around. “I am just now realizing it. It feels really good.” The weeks of simply going through daily life, one foot in front of the other, crying when she needed to, seeing her parents when she was desperate for a hug, hanging with friends when she needed a beer, had healed her tarnished pride and wounded heart.

And her pride had been the biggest thing. It was something she hadn’t wanted to admit to herself or to anyone else for a long time, but it was no less true. She saw the pitying looks when she went back home, and so she learned to stay away. Then there was her mother, who, bless her heart, kept telling Chrissie of all the eligible men who’d inquired after her.

Mostly though, she’d just wanted to be left alone. “Lonely” hadn’t entered into her equation. Less sexed than she’d have liked, definitely, but she wasn’t lonely. She liked her own company.

She’d even started to convince herself that she’d be fine alone for a good long time, that if she could just find someone to ease the sexual urges, she’d be good to live alone. Maybe for always. She could take care of herself, do things her mother shuddered over, like fixing a leak under the sink or cleaning a dryer vent.

A naked Colt, even if only in her head, hadn’t hurt either. On some level it was probably wrong to have erotic thoughts about her ex-fiancé’s brother, but she hadn’t while she was engaged and wouldn’t feel bad about it now that she wasn’t. The man was sexy and hotter than the day was long.

But in the flesh, within touching distance, she wasn’t so sure about that “alone” thing. Just his presence made her think of sharing and home and warmth and together and rolling naked in the sheets for days on end.

“I’m glad to hear you feel that way.”

Feel what way? Shit, the sun must be getting to her. She didn’t she say she wanted to be naked with him out loud, did she? No. Over Russ? It took her a moment to remember what they were talking about. With Colt in front of her, Russ was really the last thing she wanted dominating the conversation. “I’m glad to feel it. To say it. It—”

“Maybe you’d like to have dinner with me to celebrate.”

Just like that, her smile fell and her eyes grew wide. “Huh?”

“Oh, that was elegant,” he teased. “I’ll chalk that effort up to my having surprised you.” He touched her again, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. “How about a real answer now? Yes or no?”

“I, uh…” She was doing her very best to keep from tasting him with the tip of her tongue. Her lips were dry, and she felt the need to lick them, but she wouldn’t. Him right there, touching her, was doing more to her insides than her dreams of him had, and she wanted to crawl all over him. “I have to work tonight.”

Colt removed his sunglasses and pierced her with a stare that had her looking away quickly. Those eyes… Then she met his gaze again because she couldn’t stop herself. He was beautiful to look at, dark where she was light, big and bold where she was a muddle of putty in the palm of his hand.

“Truth or…?” His eyes narrowed, and his lips thinned slightly. He dropped his hand away, but not before the tips of his fingers caressed her cheek and jawline, making her skin tingle where he’d touched, and ghost sensations lingered as if he were still physically doing so.

If she spent any significant time with him, he was going to be hell on her self-control. “Truth.”

“Tomorrow night?”

“Work.” She hesitated. “I think,” she rushed to add when he opened his mouth to speak again. It was an automatic response because as much as she wanted to say yes, she wasn’t sure she wanted to tempt fate. Dreaming about Colt was one thing; going out on a date with him was something else entirely. She wouldn’t be able to promise either of them that she’d keep her hands to herself.

“Breakfast? Lunch? Late-night snack?”

Chrissie laughed in spite of herself and the strange situation she currently found herself in. “What are you up to?”

He shrugged, a casual lift of his shoulders, and shook his head. “I’m not sure exactly. I’m not used to this type of reaction. Seems I’m trying to ask you out for a meal, and you are trying to come up with reasons not to accept.”

“Work isn’t an empty excuse.” Even though Chrissie knew she was using it as one. Something about their ease with one another struck her as odd and sent a little warning flag up inside her head. They were little more than strangers, no matter their near related-by-marriage connection, but she was comfortable around him, with him. She might not be comfortable with her reaction to him, thinking it was perhaps unseemly, though at the same time, maybe it wasn’t. And maybe she was thinking too hard. “Girls in the big city aren’t this difficult?”

“Not in my general experience. Usually all it takes is a nice suit and a flashy car to tempt most of them. But you country girls? You make a man, rich
or
poor, work hard for it.”

“Makes the end result worth it, though.” Chrissie slung the comment as easily as she slung the rifle case over her shoulder by the strap and headed across the backyard up to the house. “Besides, I’m not impressed by flashy or by money, or worried about impressing anyone.”

“That’s right,” he said as he fell into step beside her. “You come from old family money.”

Chrissie laughed. “Old family money. Yes, that’s me. My mother wished I’d been able to use my old family money connections and marry into other old money connections or even into new money.”

“Russ was definitely new money. I’m somewhere in between.”

“But we’re not getting married.” She would so marry him, though. If for no other reason than the man was hot. Of course, she knew there had to be something more rational than that, but if she had to pick a reason in that moment, his hotness would be it.

No, she told herself, but the thought wiggled itself into her mind and started to make itself at home. She had to disabuse her wayward gray matter of the notion of him wanting to marry her and quickly…

Still…
No, dammit.

“Not yet, no. I can’t even get a date with you. I’m sure I need at least one, though it would be nothing more than a formality at this point. I’ve already said yes.”

He found humor in the situation—and Chrissie wanted to find the same humor—but she couldn’t seem to do it. All she kept thinking about was how much fun she suspected he’d be, both in bed and out. She didn’t feel like she had to hide anything about herself and she couldn’t help but wonder why.

“Right. Would you like to come inside?” Where the hell was her mental and vocal filter? She normally had one. She could bite her tongue and keep herself out of trouble. Him standing in front of her, behind her, beside her seemed to be the catalyst because she couldn’t keep her mouth shut and she couldn’t take the offer back now. It would be rude.

She picked up a jar full of water and tea bags from the bottom step of her porch. “Fresh sun tea,” she said with a smile and a completely unauthorized flirty waggle of her eyebrows.

“As a matter of fact, I would. I haven’t had sun tea in years.”

Crap. She shoved the jar at him. “Good. You can bring this in with you.”

Chapter Two

Colt walked into the small white clapboard house behind the woman he intended to marry. He knew she hadn’t meant what she said months ago about having maybe married him instead. She’d been distraught, sad, pissed off, and he couldn’t blame her for feeling any of it, but the second the words were out of her mouth, a switch flipped inside his head and wouldn’t turn off. He’d wanted her before that, when she was still planning to marry his brother, and he’d still wanted her when the wedding didn’t take place.

She didn’t think he was serious about it, but she’d soon be thinking differently.

She wasn’t as immune to him as she might like to think she was. He could see it in her pretty brown eyes, the way she looked him up and down as though she was trying to figure out where to lick first, like he was a treat and she’d been on a diet. She hadn’t been immune to him back in December either, but at first he figured it was nothing more than her being hurt and being touched by his concern. Maybe a little revenge sex crossed her mind too at that point, because he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t crossed his. He’d have taken her to bed just to drive the memory of his brother from her mind. The tearstains on her face, the lost look in her eyes for most of their short conversation tore at him. He could have cheerfully kicked his brother’s ass for being so callous.

But Chrissie was strong. Hell, she’d come out on the porch with a shotgun! Or was it a rifle? He honestly had no idea what the difference between the two was, and up until now, he hadn’t cared. He might be from Texas, but not everyone in his great state knew how to shoot or wanted to learn. However, since she seemed so fond of firearms, maybe he should inquire about them.

Walking up the back steps of her house, Colt was at a loss as to how to proceed. She was free. She was over Russ, by her own admission. And for all the thoughts and fantasies Colt had had about her over the months, nothing compared to seeing her again in person. He was in her space, her sanctuary, her home. Something about that touched him deep down inside, and he wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as she’d let him stay.

The idea to come to Savannah was born out of desire. He’d been wanting to set eyes on her for so long. He didn’t know how she’d react, and he didn’t know how he would. He only knew it was time to see her, time to talk to her. He hadn’t intended to start off with telling her that he wanted to marry her, but he hadn’t known exactly what to say to a woman holding a shotgun and firing it.

“I’ve been talking to your dad,” he blurted out. He hadn’t intended to tell her that, not for a while yet, but it seemed his brain had other ideas.

Tension hung between them, thick and full of hot promise. Sexual tension, for sure. Even some emotional tension. But there was something else too. Connection. Companionship. Ease with each other. He’d never found that with any other woman, though he’d really never looked for it.

He liked it. He liked what sizzled between them, and he was going to figure out how to make it to the altar with her.

Her startled gaze flew to his face. “You have? Why?”

“To see how you were doing. Because I cared and…because I was sort of keeping tabs on you and fishing for information.”

“You couldn’t call me for that?”

“Probably not the fishing for information part, but the rest, yes, I could have. I was giving you whatever space you may have needed from my family for a while. I didn’t want to intrude, but I was concerned. My brother was an ass, and while I’m not him, I thought you probably didn’t want to hear from any of us, for a bit, if ever. So, I contacted your dad.” His confession, while unplanned, was the truth.

“What kind of information were you fishing for?”

Colt felt his cheeks flush with uncharacteristic bashfulness. He didn’t even know why it was happening. “I wanted to know when you were ready to move on. He said you spent a lot of time working and shooting and making your blankets for the homeless.”

“I did. I crocheted so many blankets and scarves that I could outfit a whole platoon and then some. I kept busy, and it’s how I got over it.”

“That’s what your father said. I’m glad that you were always putting one foot in front of the other. It seems to be what healed your heart.”

“I still don’t think I fully understand why you have been so concerned about me, but thank you. That is…” She shook her head and pulled her lips inward for a moment, then let them out with a pent-up breath. “Thank you.”

Colt smiled. “You’re welcome.”

“So umm… Feel free to look around while I put the gun away; then we’ll get the tea ready.” She quickly turned away from him and disappeared through a doorway off the kitchen.

For a woman who came from money, she didn’t live like it. He knew enough about Pottery Barn and IKEA to know that she didn’t own anything from either place. The kitchen, with its open window over the sink, was a galley design and bright. He set the jar of tea on the old-style tile counter and wandered into the adjoining dining room.