by Jennie Marts
His lips curved into a wolfish grin. “Your friends dared you, huh?”
Uh-oh. Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea. “No, really. This is just to prove a point.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever you say, Chloe. I’ll bite.” He waggled his eyebrows.
Ugh. It wasn’t too late to back out. Although what could Quinn do? She wouldn’t really ask every man in the whole restaurant if he thought she was pretty or not. She glanced back at Quinn. Shiznuggets. Yeah, she would. She wouldn’t put anything past that woman.
Hugh grabbed Chloe’s hand and pulled her toward the dance floor, spinning her into his arms just as a fast country song came on the jukebox.
Thank goodness for small favors. Not that she was any good at dancing to any kind of music, but at least she didn’t have to endure an entire slow song of being trapped in Hugh’s embrace. That would have been about three and half minutes longer than she could handle.
She figured she could put up with this for about sixty seconds as Hugh spun her under his arm and wheeled her around the dance floor. He was actually a pretty good dancer. Come to think of it, she remembered now that he had spent a week or two last spring teaching the fifth graders some basic dancing skills during their gym class.
His hand rested on her hip and guided her movements using slight pressure to lead her left or right. She let out a laugh as he spun her again and landed her in the cradle of his right arm. The song was ending, and he gave her a last spin that finished in a dip.
He followed her down with his head, and she tensed as she feared he was going to try to kiss her, but instead he leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Tell your friends thanks for the dance.”
He kept his arm around her as he pulled her back up and brought her face-to-face with Colt.
She shrugged out of Hugh’s arm. “Colt, hi. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
He leveled a cool stare at her, his lips drawn tightly together. “Obviously,” he said through gritted teeth, then turned his back and strode toward the door.
“Wait, Colt.” She ran after him and caught him just as he started to open the door. “I’m glad you’re here.”
He jerked back and hit her with another steely glare. “Why are you glad? Were you hoping I’d catch you dancing with Huge? What is this, just another calculated move in whatever game you’re playing?”
His words hit her like a slap to the face. “Game? I’m not playing any game. And I was only dancing with Hugh because Quinn dared me to.”
“Sure. That sounds like a reasonable excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse. I wasn’t even planning to come out tonight. I only did because Quinn and Tess made me.”
“Gosh, it sounds like you aren’t able to stand up to anyone tonight. Although you were doing a pretty great job earlier this afternoon with me.”
“That’s what I’m trying to talk to you about. I wanted to apologize. I was completely out of line. And I’m sorry.”
He stared at her a moment longer, then let out his breath and relaxed the tension in his shoulders. “I’m sorry too. I never would have done that if I’d thought it would make you upset. I swear I was only trying to help.”
“I know you were. I just had a really bad day, and I was taking it out on you.”
“I’m well aware of that fact. But why didn’t you call me or send me a text if you wanted to talk?” Apparently, he wasn’t totally ready to let it go. “And why would Quinn dare you to dance with someone? She knows how I feel about you.”
Chloe swallowed. He was being honest, or had at least just declared that he had feelings for her. Maybe she should be honest with him. “She was trying to prove a point to me.”
He narrowed his eyes. “What kind of point?”
She stared at the floor, unable to meet his eyes. “A stupid one. I told her how my coworkers were laughing at me today, and she was trying to convince me it didn’t matter, I guess.”
“This again?” He huffed. “I told you those women don’t matter.”
Before she had a chance to reply, the door of the restaurant opened, and two women walked in, one a gorgeous blond whose face lit up when she saw Colt.
“Colton James,” she cried before launching herself into his arms. “I didn’t know you’d be here tonight.”
“Hey, Ash. I didn’t know I would be either, but Dale had his regular guy call in sick and needed someone to cover the bar for the next few hours.” He gave her a quick hug then tried to peel himself away, but she was clinging to him like a spider monkey.
She gave Chloe a contemptuous glance. “Sorry. Are we blocking your way? We’re old friends and haven’t seen each other in a long time.”
That’s awesome. Any self-confidence she might have gained from talking to Quinn and Tess flowed out of Chloe like water flushed down a toilet. This beautiful woman assumed she was trying to leave the restaurant instead of even considering she was standing there having a conversation with Colt.
“I was actually talking to Colt,” she said, trying to sound bold, but coming off flat.
The other woman brought her hand to her mouth in a coy gesture. “Oops. My bad.”
“Chloe, this is Ashley. She’s an old friend.”
Ashley playfully slugged him in the gut, still not letting him go, her arm tucked possessively around his waist. “Old friend? Seriously? I’m his old girlfriend. And you know they say you never get over your first love.”
“You sure did,” he muttered, not quite under his breath.
Ashley laughed a little too loudly. “Oh, Colt, still hilarious.”
“What are you doing in town?”
“I’m back for good this time. Mom needs me to help run the shop, and I’m tired of the scene in LA, so I agreed to come home.” She looked up at him and tenderly touched the side of his cheek. “It’s really so great to see you. I should get over to my table, but I’ll come keep you company at the bar in a bit. We can catch up.”
His expression softened just a little as he gazed down at her. “Sure. I’ll see you later.”
She gave him one last squeeze, and Chloe’s heart twisted as she realized how well the two of them fit together. They had a shared history that would always belong to them. Colt had told her about Ashley, how serious they’d been and how he’d pushed her away after the accident. And how she’d broken his heart when she’d left him.
But now she was back. For good, she’d said. And obviously still interested in Colt.
And from the affectionate look he’d just given her, it didn’t appear he was completely over her either.
Who was she kidding? This whole idea that she could have a future with Colt James was an exercise in futility. Seeing him standing there with Ashley brought it home to her in stark, clear color that he was completely out of her league, and he deserved someone as beautiful as he was. Someone like Ashley, not like her.
The door swung open again, and Rock stepped into the restaurant, accompanied by a burst of cold wind as icy as the feeling in Chloe’s heart.
“Hey, guys,” he said, seemingly oblivious to the tension between them. “I’m here to provide taxi service to the party girls.”
Quinn and Tess, who had been casually waiting at the table to give her and Colt space to talk, came walking up. Quinn leaned in and snuggled against Rock’s side. “Thanks for picking us up, babe.”
“Of course. I’ve been considering a job as an Uber driver when I retire from hockey, and this gives me some good practice.”
“Sure you have.”
“Hey, I just got married, and having a family costs a lot of money. Especially my new wife. She’s always racking up charges on my account like Taco Tuesday night with the girls.”
“Another crack like that, and I’ll be racking up more than your charges,” Quinn teased.
He grinned down at her, obviously enjoying
her sassy talk. “I’m just kidding. Put your meals and drinks for the night on my tab.”
“Oh, I already did.”
He chuckled. “Nice. Are you all ready to go? Rock’s Uber Service is leaving the station. But just so you know, I’m charging you all extra if anyone barfs in my car.”
“We’ve each had two drinks. I don’t think you have to worry,” Tess told him. She handed Chloe her purse and lowered her voice. “Are you ready to go, or do you want us to wait a little bit so you all can finish your conversation?”
Chloe shook her head. “No, I’m ready to go. I don’t think there is anything left to say.” She turned to the door, avoiding Colt’s eye, knowing if she looked at him, her steely resolve would melt faster than a Popsicle in the hot sun.
* * *
Thirty minutes later, Chloe had changed into her pajamas and performed her nightly rituals with a vengeance. Her cheeks stung from scrubbing them so hard.
She wandered through the house, checking the locks and peering through the front windows, both hoping and dreading she would see Colt’s pickup parked on the street. But so far, the street was empty. She’d turned away and taken two steps down the hall when she heard the familiar rumble of a truck engine. Her heart leapt to her throat as she hurried back to the window and peered through the curtain.
But it wasn’t Colt’s truck at the curb. And it wasn’t his tall, lean body walking toward her door.
Chapter 21
Chloe hurried to the front door and flung it open. This felt like déjà vu of a few hours earlier. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m asking myself the same question,” Logan said, suppressing a yawn behind his hand. “I was already tucked in bed when I got a call from Colt telling me I needed to grab my toothbrush and spend the night on your sofa.”
“What? Why?” She was horrified Colt had gotten Logan out of bed and sent him into town for her.
Logan walked past her and dropped a small duffel bag onto the bench inside the door. He sank down next to it and pulled off his boots. “Because Rank Johnson is still on the loose. And Colt can’t make it himself, so he sent me in his place.”
“Oh Mylanta. You didn’t have to come all the way over here. I can take care of myself.” Once again, Colt had stepped over the line and crossed into her perfectly balanced territory in order to do something nice for her. “This is humiliating.”
Logan shrugged out of his coat and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, I’m just joking around. I was glad to come. Colt’s my best friend, and I would do anything for the guy. And he’d do the same for me. And you’re my friend too. So don’t worry about it. This isn’t a big deal.” He pulled back and peered down at her. “Neither of us are going to let anything happen to you.”
How could she argue with that? And it didn’t matter if she did have an argument. He’d never let her win.
“You don’t have to sleep on the sofa. I have a guest room with an actual bed. Agatha usually sleeps in there, but she’ll share.”
Logan cocked an eyebrow. “Who is this Agatha creature, and is she single? Or more importantly, does she hog the bed or steal the covers?”
“Yes, she does hog the bed. And she is an actual creature. Agatha is my cat. And I was just teasing. I can keep her in my room.”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I don’t mind a little feline company.” He offered her a grin, and she couldn’t tell if he meant the line to be dirty or if her mind was just in the too-much-sex-on-the-brain-lately gutter.
But after two margaritas and the emotional night she’d had, she couldn’t find it in her to care. “Come on. I’ll show you to your room.” She led him down the hall and pointed to the guest room. “Sheets are clean. Bathroom’s across the way. My room’s at the end of the hall. I’ll scream if I need you.”
“You’re funny.”
“I’m not sure I was trying to be. I will scream if I need you.”
“Okay. I’ll probably get up a couple of times in the night, just to check things out. I’ll try not to wake you.”
At this point, she wasn’t sure a freight train barreling through her bedroom could wake her. She put a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Logan. I appreciate you being here.” Her heart ached at the thought of Colt not being here, and she could only let herself think that it was because he was either too mad or had to work late at The Creed. The alternative—that he’d gone home with Ashley—was too terrible and heart-wrenching to imagine.
“No problem. Good night, Chloe.”
“Good night.”
* * *
It was after one when Colt finally got the bar cleaned up and closed down for the night. He’d had a feeling it was going to be a late night, which was why he’d sent Logan over to keep an eye on Chloe. It was killing him not to be there himself, but he knew if he couldn’t be there, he could trust Logan to watch over his girl.
Except she wasn’t his girl. Or maybe she was. Or maybe she could be. Hell, he didn’t know anymore. The way she’d been so pissed earlier that day, then hightailed it out of there that night like a raccoon with its tail on fire, gave the distinct impression she didn’t really want anything more to do with him. But then why had she said she was looking for him? And why had she apologized?
Because she’s a nice person, you dope.
That was probably it. He was sure it had nothing to do with him and more to do with the fact that she was just a kind person in general. He should have known this would happen, should have been more prepared for the curse to kick in.
But he’d forgotten. For just a fraction of a second, he’d forgotten about the curse and had let himself believe he and Chloe could have a future, could be happy together. What an idiot he was.
But maybe he was dodging a bullet. If she was going to get that worked up every time he tried to help her, maybe he was better off without her. The pain in his chest told him he didn’t think so, but his head was trying to get him to see reason. She’d walked out, so now was the time to cut her loose, get on with his life, forget about Chloe and this crazy idea that he could get a chance at sharing a real life with someone.
Colt scowled as he trudged across the parking lot, distracted by his anger and frustration, and didn’t notice the figure huddled inside the cab of his truck until he’d almost reached the pickup.
“What the hell are you doing in my truck?” he asked as he yanked open the door.
A pair of miserably sad eyes peered up at him from under the hood of a jacket that wasn’t near warm enough for this cold a night. Nobody left their cars locked in small towns. But usually the worst you expected to find was a bag of extra zucchinis or tomatoes from someone’s garden, not a disheartened teenager who appeared to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
“Jesse?” Colt climbed into the truck and started the heater. “Sorry I yelled at you, kid. You scared the tar out of me. What are you doing in here? Are you all right?”
The teenager shrugged. “No. Yes. I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m doing here, man. I’ve been out looking for my dad, and it was too damn cold to walk home. I saw you inside and figured I’d wait in your truck and see if I could bum a ride home with you.”
He’d seen Jesse inside the restaurant earlier, but hadn’t had time to talk to the kid. “Sure, of course. I’m glad to drop you on my way out to the ranch.” He put the truck in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.
“Oh. I don’t want to cause you any trouble. I just seen your truck parked at Miss Bishop’s the last few nights and figured you’d be heading that way anyway.”
Kid was too smart for his own good. “My truck will not be parked there tonight, but I was planning to drive by to check on her anyway, so it’s cool to drop you off. And the only reason I’ve been staying there is to make sure she’s not alone, in case, you know, your dad comes back for her.”
“Whatever.”
Jesse shrugged his thin shoulders and stared out the window. “I don’t think you have to worry though. It doesn’t matter what he said; he’s not very good on his follow-through. And he never comes back. Even if he promises he will.”
Poor kid—he wasn’t talking about the threat to Chloe anymore.
“That’s a tough thing you got going on with your pop, Jesse. I’m sorry.”
The teen shrugged again.
“Why were you looking for him? It seems to me you’d do good to stay out of his way.”
“I know. But I need to talk to him. I need to tell him something.”
“Are you sure it can’t wait until he’s had a chance to cool off?”
“I’m sure. And he doesn’t ever really cool off, so that doesn’t matter. But I need to talk to him anyway. He thinks I’m the one who ratted him out and got him sent up.”
“But you didn’t.”
Jesse jerked his head back and narrowed his eyes. “How do you know?”
“I volunteer with the sheriff’s department. I can’t say, but I do know who snitched on your dad. And I know it wasn’t you.”
The boy’s shoulders caved even further into his chest. “It might as well have been.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means I may not have been the actual one who snitched, but I wanted to. I tried. I placed anonymous calls to the police station. I even rode my bike down there a couple of times after he tore into my mom. I wanted to turn him in and get him sent to jail, so it may as well have been me, because I wanted him gone. I just didn’t have the guts to turn him in myself.” He swiped the back of his sleeve across his nose. From the tremble in Jesse’s voice, Colt figured he was crying but didn’t want to draw attention to it. There was nothing wrong with a guy needing to get out a good cry once in a while—especially a conflicted teenager who had an abusive father who he obviously both loved and hated.
“Jesse, you gotta quit being so tough on yourself. None of what happened was your fault, or your siblings’ fault, or your mom’s fault. The blame for your dad getting sent to jail falls solely on his shoulders. He did the crime, so he’s doing the time. And he hurt people, hurt you and your mom. It’s totally understandable you’d want to tell someone and get your family some help. That doesn’t make you a snitch. It makes you brave.”
