by Kate Kisset
Colt scanned everyone at the table and locked on Mariah’s eyes, remembering the way they glistened last night—the way she tasted. He abruptly turned to Mariah’s dad, coming back to the here and now.
“Thanks for having me. Please don’t get up.” Colt walked to the cart. “I’ll have a beer. Thank you, sir.” He pulled a bottle out of a bucket of ice.
“And you know Bob, and his son, Thomas,” Mr. Walker said. Colt reached over and shook Thomas’s hand first since he was the closest, then leaned to greet his father. “Mr. Bishop. Good to see you, sir.”
“You’re old enough to call me Bob.” He chortled playfully.
“It’s a lost cause,” Mr. Walker chimed in. “Colt’s old enough to call me James, Jamison, and Jimmy, but he still calls me Mr. Walker.” He laughed. “And this is Aves, Mariah’s friend, and, of course, you know Mariah.”
He took Mariah in again. The color of her blouse made her soft skin shimmer. Her silky hair shone in the late-afternoon light. His eyes roamed to her mouth, and stayed there while he licked his lips, every cell in his body drawn to her in an insistent magnetic pull.
Mariah grinned. And her almost imperceptible wink reminded him they weren’t alone. Colt straightened his shoulders. “Aves and Mariah are both staying at Dream Maker this week. Good to see you again, ladies.”
He uneasily perused the massive table, not noticing any particular seating order. There were plenty of available chairs.
Thomas sat next to his father. Mr. Walker and Mariah were seated across from them. Wyatt had taken the chair across from Aves. Colt took a seat next to Wyatt and sipped on his beer.
After several minutes of chit-chat, Mariah and Wyatt set out the food at the far end of the table. Everyone helped themselves and tucked into dinner.
Colt glanced at Thomas and watched him adjust his tie. The man was so fixated on Mariah he couldn’t take his eyes off her long enough to have a bite of chicken.
“So,” Thomas said, zooming in on her. “I’ve always liked the name Mariah.”
“I like it too.” Her dad scooped up a forkful of mashed potatoes. “She was named after a song.”
“Right.” Thomas smiled so hard, Colt thought he’d puke. “That must be why I always think of Mariah Carey. I saw her in Vegas—”
“He said she was named after a song, not a singer.” Colt interjected, putting his fork down. He stared blankly at the idiot who didn’t know her at all. “They got her name from ‘They Call the Wind Mariah.’ She’s not a songstress,” he seethed. The least Thomas could do was get her name straight. “Mariah Walker is a force of nature, like the wind.”
“Ah . . .” Jamison Walker side-eyed him. “Colt is like a brother to Mariah,” he explained to Thomas. “They all grew up together.”
Thomas nodded. “Your father tells me you’re staying at Dream Maker this week for some sort of business project?” He shot a look Colt wasn’t sure he knew how to read.
Colt stared him down, holding himself back from answering for her. Regardless of what was happening between him and Mariah on an intimate level, he took a keen interest in her career. He had every intention of helping her reach her goals.
Mariah finished chewing and nodded. “Aves and I have an Instagram travel business called The Maverick Girls. We review resorts and hotels all over the country. Sometimes we get to travel internationally, but that isn’t the norm.”
“So, you’re an influencer?”
“Exactly.” Mariah brightened, seeming thrilled that Thomas was hip enough to understand her business. Which was perplexing because Colt knew exactly what an influencer was, and she knew it. They’d talked about it. “We have a little over seventy-five thousand followers now, enough for the four of us to squeak out a little income.” She smiled blissfully, focusing all her attention on Thomas. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like we’re living large, but it’s a dream come true.”
“Where are your other two partners based?” Colt jumped in, even though he knew the answer. Two could play this game.
She turned to Colt and seemed to light up. “Remember, Jenny is in Los Angeles with me, and Michelle is in Boston. And with Aves in New York, we have both coasts covered.”
“I’m curious, if I’m not being too personal,” Thomas butted in. “How are you monetizing this business?”
Mariah turned from Colt to Thomas, going back and forth between them like it was a tennis match. Colt despised the game.
“I used to write reviews, like I did for that Heaven’s Bliss place,” she explained, “but most were non-paying gigs. But now, we offer paid sponsorships. We create Instagram stories for our clients showcasing their brand.”
“As long as their brand matches ours,” Aves added, grinning at Wyatt. “We don’t get behind anything we don’t believe in.”
Mariah nodded. “And sometimes, if we feel passionately about a business, we’ll promote it without charge.”
“Is Colt paying you?” Thomas asked.
Colt almost choked and Wyatt kicked him under the table.
“No,” Mariah scoffed. “Colt. I—I, it’s dif—I would never—”
“Colt’s a family friend,” Aves clarified. “I insisted we showcase Dream Maker Ranch at no charge.”
“Thank you.” Colt cringed, making a note to schedule a meeting with his PR team as soon as possible. To think he hadn’t even known Mariah was on the guest list, never mind giving him free promotion.
He’d been so overwhelmed with getting the resort ready, he’d only had one basic meeting outlining the media plan. When the firm suggested he leave all the publicity to them, Colt let them handle it.
“Thanks, Aves,” Wyatt added. “But you should’ve charged Colt.” He smirked, sending Colt a shit-eating grin. “Mr. Calm and Cool here is loaded.”
Colt raised his brows, feeling steam rise to the top of his head. Calm and cool? What a joke. He hadn’t felt like himself since Mariah arrived at Dream Maker.
And the crappy evening just droned on and on, with Thomas dominating the conversation. The two dads grinned ear to ear the whole time. Jamison and Bob weren’t hiding their hopes for a match.
After dinner, when Colt thought the torture would finally come to an end, Jamison offered everyone a slice of the peach pie he’d picked up at Pearl’s Diner that afternoon. Following the pie, the suffering continued as their host insisted they all join him for an after-dinner drink, and the party moved to the gazebo.
“I was just in Sorrento,” Thomas bragged.
“I’ve always wanted to go.” Mariah beamed. “Did you see Pompeii?”
“I did. It was truly magnificent; those murals are something everyone should experience at least once. And the fossilized bodies, ugh, so tragic. My hotel in Sorrento had floor to ceiling windows facing the Bay of Naples, with an unobstructed view of Mount Vesuvius.”
“Have you been to Italy, Colt?” Thomas licked his chops, going in for the kill. How did he know Colt was touchy about the subject?
“No. I haven’t been to Europe.”
“Asia, then?” Thomas pounced, probably knowing full well he hadn’t.
“I haven’t been out of the country, Thomas.” Colt glanced at Mariah, deciding to just let Thomas take the win.
Mariah already knew he hadn’t traveled anywhere. She didn’t seem bothered by it, but now—now that Colt clearly saw how deeply and passionately she felt about traveling—he realized it was an issue. And might even be a bone of contention.
Of course, he’d known she loved to travel—obviously, or she wouldn’t be doing it for a living. But there was something different about tonight. Something disturbing about facing up to the fact that another man could make Mariah happy in a way he couldn’t.
“I’ve always wanted to travel,” Colt admitted. “But I’ve had responsibilities here in Lonesome that have prevented me from traipsing around the world.”
Mariah blinked. “Yes, Colt is responsible for so many people.”
You don’t have to ma
ke excuses for me, Mariah.
After a lull, and then another forty-five minutes of listening to Thomas pontificate, Colt set down his drink. He and Wyatt had taken separate cars so Colt could leave if he needed to get back to Dream Maker for an emergency. As far as Colt was concerned, he’d red-lined two hours ago.
Colt pulled his phone from his pocket, scrolled to his text messages, and fake-read something important. “I hate to do this,” he explained as he rose, “but I have an urgent issue to take care of at Dream Maker.”
Mariah pivoted to him, shaking her head, silently saying, Don’t go.
“What happened?” Wyatt scrambled to his feet.
“It’s nothing I can’t take care of,” Colt reassured him. “Stay.”
After thanking his host and saying goodbye to everyone, Colt managed to give Mariah a quick kiss on the cheek before he left.
Wyatt didn’t care, and her father didn’t even notice. After all, Colt and Mariah were just friends.
Chapter Thirteen
THE SUN WAS STARTING to set, splattering shades of deep orange and cobalt through the sky. The still air carried a hint of jasmine and cherries and had started to cool. It wasn’t nippy enough for a jacket, but the harsh afternoon heat had faded to a pleasant warmth.
The wagon rounded the corner as the horses clip clop, clip clopped in unison, taking Mariah and her fellow travelers to a lovely clearing not too far from the main building. Set off by lush trees, a circle of old-fashioned pioneer-type wagons surrounded a large campfire. A man in a cowboy hat waved to them and went back to stirring something in a mammoth cast-iron skillet over the fire. Hay bales draped with faux-fur throws and heavy blankets sat at a safe distance from the flames.
Joe, their tour guide, pulled on the reins. “Whoa,” he cooed, commanding the horses to come to a stop.
Dressed in a red plaid shirt, the fatherly host turned to the group of twelve reviewers Mariah and Aves had traveled with all day. “I hope you enjoyed your day and will spread the word about Dream Maker.” He smiled graciously.
“This is the last stop of the day.” He pointed to the man attending the skillet. “As you can see, chef Dylan is treating you to a chuckwagon feast. If you have any questions about any of our tour stops, the restaurants, hiking trails, spa facilities, or our special glamping camp sites, I’ll be on hand and happy to answer any questions.” He grinned, hopping down from the rig. “If you’re not sick of me yet.” The group laughed. One by one they thanked him as he helped them down from the wagon.
Mariah scanned for Colt as she had throughout the day at every stop. She hadn’t seen him since last night. She quickly looked through her messages hoping for a text from him, but closed the screen deflated.
Aves watched as Mariah shoved the phone back into her purse. “You haven’t answered Thomas yet, have you? I can’t believe you haven’t texted him back.”
“And I can’t believe you put that focaccia in your purse,” Mariah snipped. “You don’t have to carry bread with you. We’ve had snacks at every stop. And look at all this.” She splayed out her hand, indicating the lavish surroundings. “It’s not like they’re going to let you starve.”
“Are you finished?” Aves parked her hands on her hips. “Just because you’re obviously ticked off at something, doesn’t mean you should take it out on me.”
Mariah blew out a sigh, eyeing a comfy-looking Adirondack chair decorated with plump, fluffy pillows. “You’re right. I’m just frustrated about the whole dinner situation last night. I should never have agreed to it.”
“Just tell Thomas you’re not interested and be done with it.”
“Right.” Mariah shook her head. “Like that’s going to fly with Dad. I can’t just send Thomas an ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ text.”
“More like ‘it’s not you, it’s me and Colt.’” Aves snickered, tipping her chin at the fully loaded buffet table. “Let’s check out the food.”
“Why not? Maybe there’s chocolate.”
“Jeez,” Aves said, by her side. “I couldn’t believe that whole ‘Mariah was named after a song, she’s like the wind, a force of nature, so shut up!’ comment from Colt. Your man wasn’t going for Thomas’s spiel one bit.”
“And score one for chocolate. Look, brownies.” Mariah handed Aves a plate and they made their way around the table. “Thomas is a nice enough guy, just not wild enough.”
“Is that so?” Aves looked like she was holding back a laugh. She helped herself to some salad. “And Mr. Do Everything by the Books is wild?”
“When he wants to be, he is,” Mariah said softly. “Colt’s always been a little wild with me.”
“Shush. Look.” Aves bumped her arm. “Speak of the devil, here come Wyatt and Wild Man.”
Mariah glanced up from the salad bowl, and her heart skipped. Colt was wearing his standard jeans, and the perfect color blue button-down shirt. It wasn’t dressy, but it was a few notches and a foot up from a T-shirt, and it set off his gorgeous face, down to his chiseled jaw. Damn. There was even a hint of stubble.
“Are you married yet, Mariah?” Wyatt snagged a plate and slid beside her. “Thomas really likes you. Dad will have a ring on your finger within a week if you don’t speak up.”
Mariah didn’t respond, and only hoped Colt didn’t hear the crack. He’d moved to the other side of the buffet table, possibly within earshot.
“Hey, Colt.” She offered a smile.
He glanced up from his plate. “Hey. Have a good time last night?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Seems like you have a lot in common with Thomas.”
Chapter Fourteen
COLT HATED THE TONE. Hated hearing the words coming from his mouth. He sounded like a snide, petty, jealous teenager. But what was worse was the way he held his breath for Mariah to respond. It was like being on the edge of a cliff waiting to hear something that would knock him over.
Christ, Mariah.
“We have traveling in common, but that’s about it. Want to sit?” She pointed to a pair of hay bales set off from the group.
Colt nodded. Tight lipped, he took a seat on the bale next to hers. He wasn’t about to sit on the same bale, where they might bump elbows. He needed to keep a safe distance from her so he could concentrate and stay on point. He still hadn’t gotten over the dinner from hell, but at least the torment helped him come to a decision.
“You need some assistance over there?” Wyatt put his hand to his ear and cocked his head, sending a sarcastic grin. “Well? Why so far from everyone?”
“We’re talking business. It’s about her review.” Colt shot him a back-off glare. And it was true, this was about a review, a review of a dead-end relationship.
“Where’s your swag bag?”
“I don’t know.” Mariah reflexively checked around her. “I didn’t get one.”
“Well, you should have. Joe was supposed to hand them out. And lanterns.” Colt scowled, spotting Joe talking it up with the chef by the bonfire. “We can’t have guests getting lost on their way back to their rooms. I spent a fortune on those things. I suppose you didn’t get that either.”
Mariah set her plate aside. “No, no lantern. But it’s okay,” she said earnestly. “No one is missing out on anything though, Colt. Why are you acting so uptight? I think everyone on the tour had a great time.”
“It won’t be so fun when they trip in the dark on their way back to their rooms tonight and break their necks.”
She eyed him, obviously picking up on his piss poor attitude. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” he lied. He knew damn well he needed to push her away and force things back to the way they were before the night at The Owl. Life was so much simpler then when he wasn’t losing his fucking mind.
Even if there was some way they could be together, he was all wrong for her. Being tied down to Lonesome would bore Mariah to death. She needed a partner she could travel with.
“I just expect my employees to follow throug
h with their duties, that’s all.” He’d lost his appetite and couldn’t look at the food the chef spent hours preparing. “So where are you off to next?”
“You mean tonight?” she asked, hopefully.
“No. I mean when you leave town. Which you’ll no doubt be doing soon.”
“Only if Dad continues to improve. If he does, I’ll probably go back home to Venice Beach in a few weeks. My mentee is going through some issues with her family. I need to check in with her. And then I have a week in London coming up in a little over a month.”
“You’d probably never be happy staying in one place, like Lonesome, would you?”
She shifted and stared at him head-on. “I’m happy now, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know, Mariah, are you?”
“I am, when I’m with you.” She frowned. “And I can’t wait until we’re alone together again.” Her silky voice slid over him like a warm breeze. And it hurt. The sound of her voice shouldn’t have the ability to cut through him like a knife, but it did.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mariah,” he whispered, barely having the nerve to face her. He hated seeing the vulnerability in her eyes. “You know,” he kept his voice low, “we kind of got out of control the other night.” He rubbed his forehead. “How many times do I have to say this? I’m sick of hearing myself say it. But nothing can ever really happen between us.”
“Oh, yes it can. And it did.” She glowered. “And it would again, if you could just get over yourself.”
“You’re right, Mariah, it would happen again, and then again.” He dropped his head, admittedly. “But then what?” He met her eyes. “Then what, Mariah? We don’t even have anything in common, except the past.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. And I’m not asking you to marry me, Colt.” She shook her head, and crossed her long, sexy legs. Colt caught himself staring and switched his gaze to a rock next to her foot. “Is that what you’re worried about?”
“No, I’m not worried.” Although, truth be told, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain’s fantasy land, he’d thought about it. “I’m talking about the here and now. You need someone you can share your travels with. Someone with shared experiences. If not Thomas, someone like him.”
