Gross. He tried not to make a face.
“Maybe you could drive Peyton to the dance. You two seem to be hitting it off,” she paused. “Passionately.” She wasn’t off-cue on that description.
“I’m not going to the dance Mom. I just said that to get a rise out of Peyton for bringing up my bail.”
She frowned.
Colt bent down and kissed the wrinkle away from his mother’s forehead. “And that’s precisely the reason why I was giving her a hard time because you worry about it too much.”
“Too much? Colt this is serious. An assault charge would be on your criminal record permanently.” Concern was arising in her eyes like the color-changing sky before a storm rolled in off the lake. He needed to open the umbrella and repel the raindrops of worry that were about to downpour on her evening.
“I have the best lawyer money can buy and after my divorce battle with Lauren, I know that flashing the right amount of money they will drop the charges.” He didn’t doubt it for one second. Then he could go back to the city, buy a bottle of clear take-my-pain-away liquid and quietly mope about his life...alone.
“You and Kent have a good time and don’t worry about me.”
“I always worry about you.”
“I always worry about you.”
A smile wore her lips and she lightly touched his middle. “I love you Colt.”
“Love you too Mom.”
Elaine turned to leave and on a higher, happier note, she said, “That’s too bad about you and Peyton. I thought maybe you two...”
“No mom,” he cut her off, pulling the door open for her. “There is nothing serious going on between us. It was just...well...you know.”
“Uh huh.” She didn’t look happy.
“As you witnessed during supper, she doesn’t really like me.”
“That’s not what I saw.”
He stood back and gave her his best model body and face form...the one he’d used on his cologne campaign. “Who can resist this?”
She rolled her eyes. “Maybe the girl knows what she’s doing after all.”
Chapter Eight
Later that evening, nestled under the starless sky of gloomy winter clouds, country music would be pouring from the town’s arena where local up-and-coming bands were performing and featuring Tate Saunders.
The place was going to be packed to the brim and Peyton wasn’t so sure she wanted to go anymore. She’d totally been blown off by her sisters. And, she’d totally made a fool of herself. Now they all knew she’d had sex with Colt. This was just the icing on that unsteady cake and if she’d had any notion of excluding him from future decisions that was baked away now.
As if being ditched by her sisters wasn’t bad enough, her own father and Elaine had slipped out leaving them eating dessert alone in the living room while they went to the dance...the dance she didn’t have a date for.
Peyton tossed her keys from one hand to the next standing in the kitchen and staring at the tickets on the table, debating whether to go or not. She could very well slip on the burnt straw edged cowboy hat for a fun night out. It would be the first fun night out in a long time for Peyton. And Peyton wasn’t shy on how to have a fun night out. In her circle of friends in the city she’d been the fun one. She knew how to turn a party around...although country dance wasn’t exactly her scene...she’d been open to the event even if she didn’t plan on drinking.
Or she could grab the recipes and curl up on her queen size bed. Definitely drawing the curtains because the last thing she wanted to do was stare across the laneways that divided their houses and silently wish Colt would knock on the front door. Colt. The name sizzled her soul and in a new, totally angering way. The gall of that man, announcing he wasn’t the only one in that shower.
At the thought, that could have went right back down lust alley in a heartbeat, the back door thudded under someone’s fist.
Abby.
Relieved, Peyton smiled. She was delighted Abby changed her mind−she was the flipsy one−and Peyton decided that answered her debate. She slipped the hat on checking herself in the back mirror and ruffling the side swept bangs and curls. She was going to the dance.
Abby was brave daring to spend the evening with Peyton after her mouth at supper. Peyton had a list of words she was going to have with Abby on the drive over.
Peyton whipped the door open with a smile that quickly fell.
The handsome eyes stealing her dreams at night made her tilter as he nodded his black leather Stetson before saying, “Evening darlin’” in his best southern cowboy drawl (which sounded fake...and wonderful.) Not wonderful. Fake.
It was all she could do not to scratch his eyes out and slam the door shut. “Did you get lost on the way to your truck and back to the city?”
He tsked her. “Such sass. I like it.”
She rolled her eyes. He liked women in general. “I’m just heading out.”
“That’s why I’m here.”
“Why?” He had a lot of nerve showing up here after basically announcing to her entire family they’d had sex. Could anything be more mortifying? If Elaine had added that she’d witnessed them in the beginning stages of the act that would have increased the horror.
“To take you.” He touched the edge of her hat which was his hint to exactly where she was off too, like he didn’t already know. “To the arena sober-buddy.”
That was a horrible idea. Notes, coffee, bed and drawn curtains were calling her back into the house.
“I will cramp your woman-hunt.” Go back to the city.
“I’m not on the hunt tonight. Unless you’re my prey.”
Peyton was finished being his prey.
She grunted. “Is that the best you have?”
Colt leaned toward her and his cologne twisted around them like a lasso squeezing her insides. “There’s a shower in here that I can show you the best I have.”
Yes, there was a shower down the hall, still steamy from the last time they were in there and yes, she remembered his best. There were no complaints from her. But that wasn’t the point.
Peyton pushed past him. “Been there, done that.” And it was like the intoxicating aroma of lavender oil...amazing. “Let’s go already.”
It was better if she let Colt drive her to the arena and got a ride back with her dad...if he didn’t ditch her to play adolescent make-out in the parking lot with his new crush. At least getting away from her dad’s house would keep her from being enticed into the cascading water with Colt.
What would have happened if everyone hadn’t been around the kitchen table during supper? She knew. They would have tainted the very table underneath them.
Colt unlocked the doors of his truck with the automatic keys and Peyton hurriedly climbed in before he had the chance to open the door for her. Not that she knew, for certain, he would open the door, but she didn’t want to chance losing her sensible self and end up playing adolescent make-out in the truck.
As he pulled out of the driveway, Peyton couldn’t stop the memories of the many times he’d pulled away when they were young and she’d watched him...dreaming of being a passenger in his truck. That was back when he was a different person, not an arrogant selfish player who only thought about himself.
“You know we could skip the dance.” His low tone was annoyingly sexy and it was too bad he knew it. Fame and money had changed him over the years. Did he only think with the lower half of his body?
“I’m not sleeping with you Colt.”
“Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa!” He put his hands in the air dramatically making his point, releasing the wheel on the slippery snowy roads.
“Colt, the road!”
He grabbed the wheel and sent her a wink. “I was just talking about getting some coffee. I never said anything about sex,” he whispered the last word as though Haylee was around listening. “Get your head out of the gutter McAdams. Geez.” He was acting all insulted, but she knew his head took permanent residency in the gutter.
<
br /> Peyton shook her head and yet an unauthorized smile crossed her lips. “You’re a jerk.”
“Is that a no to coffee?”
The arena was packed full and they ended up parking blocks down the street. Peyton quickly jumped out of the truck and almost ran the distance to the main doors. Colt was right on her heels.
“You’re going to fall on your backside,” he called from behind her. He better be enjoying the view of her backside in the especially snug jeans she’d had to jump into like she was on a trampoline.
She waved, dismissing him and not even bothering to turn around.
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you. You’re the clumsiest girl I know.”
He didn’t even know her! And she wasn’t the same girl that she was ten years ago! He was so aggravating.
Peyton spun purposely with the intention of putting Colt in his place but when his hockey feet skidded without stopping he slammed straight into her body throwing them both off balance. Their only support was each other and awkward dance claimed their feet as they grabbed for coats, limbs...anything to keep them both from falling. They clung to each other until their feet steadied on the slippery ground.
They stilled.
Peyton took a deep breath, the minus temperature air stinging her nostrils. Her hands grasped each shoulder of his jacket. She felt the distinct pressure of his arm clamped around her back digging his fingers into her hip and pressing her body against his. This was not a successful attempt to scramble away from him.
“This is more like it.” The low husky and terribly sexy voice rumbled against her hair again, just like in the beach house, and just as tantalizing.
I agree...No, no I don’t!
Why was he so persistent on dangling his words like a toy on a string and she was the helpless kitten who couldn’t resist reaching for it?
Well, she was resisting this time. Peyton pulled away and punched his gut.
Colt grabbed his stomach and let out a groan. Oh please, she barely touched him.
“Get your head out of the gutter,” she threw his words back at him before turning her boots into skates and sliding across the rest of the icy walkway, reminding herself to be more cautious next time she was on ice. She didn’t want to chance falling.
Peyton climbed the stairs straight into the arena and let the breath she had been holding out as she leaned back against the door for a moment to herself. She closed her eyes and had a one-on-one conversation to construct a mastermind plan to keep contact-free from Colt for the remainder of the evening. For the remainder of his stay...however long that turned out to be.
When she felt convinced she could keep her hands to herself, she opened her eyes. Colt’s charming smile stared down at her from one of the many huge posters hung in the lobby as if telling her no mastermind plan would work with him.
She sighed.
Knowing he would be coming through the doors any second, Peyton turned right to the entertaining hall and hung her coat in the public closet. Colt was right behind her pulling his bomber jacket off and slipping it neatly beside hers.
“You hit like a girl.”
Couldn’t he just leave her alone and go find some other woman to flash his appalling western themed, white button-up shirt with gold trim...and were those tassels? She must have been staring because he bounced one of the tassels.
“It’s my country shirt.”
“That’s the most awful thing I have ever seen,” she laughed, then covered her mouth.
“It gets better.” He started unbuttoning his shirt in the dimly lit small closet that smelled of dirty shoes mixed with over sprayed perfume and cologne.
What was he doing! He needed to go search this party out for someone who actually wanted to be a part of his stripping act. Oh, don’t kid yourself McAdams; you want to watch him strip. You want him! Maybe, but she certainly did not want to get busted in the closet with him...they’d already done that once today and that was plenty enough for a lifetime.
Colt wasn’t the man to get involved with if you wanted anything more than a closet bang. Marriage. Children. Couch shopping. He was the wrong person.
Coincidentally, Peyton wasn’t that person either. She didn’t want marriage, children or some egotistical man to originate what colour he preferred in her living room...when she got her own.
Surprisingly Colt fit her man requirements making him her perfect candidate for man candy.
Maybe if he slipped that shirt off she would run her fingers down his amazing muscle wall and work her way to his belt buckle and...
Colt reached the last button and pulled his shirt open proud to show off the t-shirt underneath with a country saying she read, comprehended, and didn’t think was that funny, considering what she’d been expecting.
“It’s hilarious,” he was saying. Only he and his arrogance could pull that shirt off. Where did he get it? Were they giving it away at the second hand store?
Disgusted in herself for almost falling for his be-witching again, she strode past him.
Get a grip! She prayed he didn’t catch her misconception or disappointment. Disappointment. Ugh. Never in her lifetime of man affairs had she ever lost her mind the way she did when Colt was involved.
“Can I get two tickets for me and my girl?” His tone was filled with sexy flirtation. She wondered how he could claim a woman while flirting with another all in one sentence. It was incredible. Of course, the lady behind the ticket table was old enough to be their grandmother and wouldn’t really fall for that pitch.
The elderly lady sent him a bashful smile. “Oh Colt Patterson,” she started, totally taken in by his charm.
Peyton had to take the deepest breath to avoid a distasteful eye roll at having her words thrown back at her.
Peyton pulled the tickets out of her pocket and held them in front of him. Tate Saunders was playing, it was a sold out show. What a tool.
The elderly lady accepted the tickets, but paid no attention to Peyton. “You are in for a great show tonight.” She leaned in to whisper which was actually louder than ordinary tones with the music echoing from band playing behind the closed doors. “Tate Saunders is taking the stage at the end of the night for a couple of his classics,” she explained, like it was a secret and there weren’t posters hung all around them advertising those exact words.
Saunders was around the same age as Colt and just as much of a fool−leaving his now ex-wife and young daughter here in town to do exactly the same womanizing as Colt was known for.
Colt moved in a little toward the lady like a slithering snake ready to attack its prey. Poor women never saw it coming...Peyton included.
“Don’t you know I came tonight only to steal a dance with you?” he flirted, making her blush like a smitten teenager.
Peyton was pretty sure her eyes hit the ceiling before letting out her breath. He was such a flirt.
He continued. “Are you saving a dance for me when you’re finished up here?”
“Oh.” She waved a timid hand at him. “I’m too old to get on that dance floor with you Colt.”
“Now Maggie,” the other old lady who had just as much stain on her wrinkled cheeks from Colt’s husky words, interjected, nudging her friend playfully. “You know how to dance.” She looked up at them and Peyton forced a smile. If Peyton stopped categorizing Colt for one second, this little game he was playing with the older ladies was actually adorable...they were getting such a kick out of it.
“Maggie goes to dance every week,” she informed them. Maggie tsked at the lady, but she continued, “She is the spunkiest dancer in the group.”
“Ohh,” Colt’s long word hung in the air as he scooped up Maggie’s hand to brush a kiss across the knuckles.
Much to her surprise and annoyance, he had Peyton grinning along with the ladies. If anything, he was giving these ladies a good story to tell their friends about: the town’s hockey legend promising dances and sharing kisses.
“I’m coming back for you,” he pro
mised with a wink. Peyton knew how well those winks made a woman’s knees buckle. She was still trying to forget wanting those delicious lips grazing her knuckles, her hand, her arm...all the way up to her lips. Unconsciously, her tongue darted across her lips.
The women laughed and giggled a tune, snapping Peyton back to present. “Oh you hold onto that one,” their giggles advised Peyton. Apparently they weren’t caught up on their social media scandals. No one could hold onto Colt Patterson.
Colt placed that charming seductive hand on the small of her back that burned right through her flannel shirt and tantalized her bra clasp. He led her through the straw decorated doorway like a claimed prize.
The country bands were in full swing on stage at the far side of the room and Peyton found herself swaying with the rhythm. Red and black plaid triangle banners weaved across the ceiling like the leather stitches on a cowboy hat incorporating with the tablecloths.
“You’re going to crush her old heart when she doesn’t get that dance.”
He brushed her off with a wave of his free hand. He didn’t plan on dancing with Maggie at all. And just like that, the man she knew was under there, re-appeared. Egotistical and ignorant. His other hand still sizzled her back, guiding her around people crowded by the doorway in groups gripping drinks in their hands. Alcohol drinks.
“What do you want to drink?” he asked.
“What are you drinking?”
“I might indulge tonight...” Everything you do will be photographed. “...and have a soda.”
A soda? Seriously? So, he was restricted from drinking...for real. And she’d gone and brought it all up in front of his mother like a simpleton. How awful and rude. Peyton was going to have to apologize to Colt and Elaine for her moment of ignorance. If she didn’t let the anger of the argument cloud her judgement she would see that she had initiated that fight and technically put them down the road to revealing their shower sex show.
“I will have the same.”
“No wine?”
“Wine? Why do you think I drink wine?” I love wine. I miss wine.
Lakeshore Legend: The McAdams Series (By The Lake Series Book 2) Page 7
