Need You

by Stacy Finz

  He got up and walked into his kitchen, which was right off the living room. The house wasn’t overly large. She didn’t know if she was supposed to follow him but eventually did, interested to know what he was doing. He had the refrigerator door open and was drinking milk out of the carton.

  When Colt saw her watching him, he said, “You want some?”

  “Uh . . . no, thanks. I should go.”

  “You don’t want me to try on the pants?” He motioned toward the kitchen table where he’d put them down.

  “You can do it later, when you’re fully up.” Oh God, had she just said that? “I mean ... uh, after you get home from work.”

  He checked the clock over his stove. “I’m awake now. May as well do it. Did you bring your pins?”

  She hadn’t, which made it look even more like a booty call. “Really, Colt, let’s do this another time. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

  “You sure?” He was trying to smooth over the situation, which wasn’t working.

  “Look,” she said, deciding to be up-front, “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to you. But I really did lose track of time and came over to bring you the pants, not to fool around. I swear.”

  His glance dropped to her lips. “Clearly the attraction is mutual, but us . . . this”—he waved his hand between them—“I don’t like to get involved with local women. As the police chief it’s too complicated.”

  “Exactly,” she said, but secretly wondered what was so complicated about it, and got up to go.

  “I’ll walk you.” He followed her to the door and she turned and pointedly looked at his state of undress. Hello, you’re practically naked.

  He grabbed the new pants off the kitchen table, put them on and closed the zipper, leaving the top button undone. “They feel great.”

  They looked even better, but she kept that thought to herself. He crossed the easement road with her, waited for her to get inside, then went back home. She climbed the stairs, shut off the light in her studio, and headed for bed. But not before gazing out the window at Colt’s bedroom.

  * * *

  Colt didn’t know if he could fall asleep again. Delaney had him worked up pretty good. When she’d first shown up, he’d thought it was a dream. Her standing in his doorway, backlit by the full moon, so freaking beautiful it made his chest hurt. And when he’d kissed her ... Well, it had been a while since he’d lost his head over a woman. Maybe never.

  It was for the best that they’d stopped it when they had, he told himself. He wasn’t interested in being her rebound guy until she moved back to Los Angeles. And while Colt wasn’t opposed to no-strings-attached sex, doing that sort of thing in Glory Junction was out of the question. Especially with a woman he could fall for.

  At seven his damned alarm went off. Even though he wouldn’t be part of Team Garner at the races, he decided to go to the family meeting anyway. There would be pastries and coffee that didn’t suck. He also decided to wear plain clothes today, instead of his uniform. Pond wouldn’t like it, so it was Colt’s little F-you to the mayor.

  Delaney’s pants were sitting on the top of his dresser. After his shower, he dragged them on with a polo shirt. The cargos really were fantastic. Lightweight but durable and as comfortable as tactical pants. He strapped on his gun belt and clipped on his badge. On the way to his cruiser, he checked out Delaney’s house for any signs of life. He couldn’t tell for sure, but it appeared that she was still asleep.

  He tried to block a vision of her in bed, flushed and tousled. The image didn’t help his state of mind, which was still in the gutter after her early morning visit.

  He drove to Garner Adventure and parked in front. Darcy, the new girl, was laying out the Danish in the conference room when he got in. He snagged a bear claw before the rest of his family arrived and poured himself a cup of coffee.

  “How you liking the job so far?” he asked Darcy.

  The question seemed to throw her, because she waited a while to respond and finally said, “It’s good,” then turned beet red.

  Win came through the door and put his stuff down on the long burl wood table. Gray Garner had had it specially made for the room. He’d known a guy. . . .

  “Hey, Darce,” Win said.

  This time, the receptionist looked as if all the blood in her body had rushed to her cheeks. She was either incredibly shy or had it bad for Win, which wouldn’t surprise Colt. Ninety-nine percent of Glory Junction’s female population had it bad for Win. The rest were six feet under at the Glory Junction Cemetery.

  Colt figured his little brother would eventually settle down with Deb. Poor Deb had been pining for him forever.

  TJ showed up next. “I thought you weren’t coming,” he said to Colt.

  Colt held up his Danish. “Food.”

  “Did you take the only bear claw?”

  “Yes I did.” He licked the whole thing, like they used to do when they were kids to claim dibs.

  “What’s up with you and Delaney Scott? I thought you didn’t like her.”

  “I never said I didn’t like her.”

  “Weren’t you feuding over parking?”

  “We’ve worked it out.”

  TJ raised his brows. “And now you’re having dinner with her?”

  “Yeah, so what’s the big deal? We live next door to each other and were both hungry.”

  “And you took her river rafting. Seems like there’s something going on there.” TJ looked at him for confirmation.

  “Absolutely nothing going on.” If you didn’t count the kiss, which Colt wasn’t. It was a one-time deal. No harm, no foul.

  “Too bad. She seems nice and it’s high time you got over Lisa.”

  “I’m over Lisa.” Just not what she’d done to him . . . what she’d taken.

  TJ did the eyebrow thing again. Luckily, Josh came in, distracting everyone.

  “Where are the bear claws?” Josh asked, perusing the assortment of pastries.

  “In Colt’s stomach,” TJ replied. “He ate the only one.”

  “Asshole,” Josh called across the conference room. “I’m the one going under the knife next week.”

  “I heard.”

  Josh’s doctors wanted to do another operation on his leg. There was a chance that the surgery would significantly improve his mobility. Colt knew that even more than the pain, the limp bothered Josh the most. No one thought less of him—his brother was a war hero, for God’s sake—but to Josh it was akin to losing his manhood.

  “But I didn’t realize the surgery was next week,” Colt said.

  “They want to move quickly while there is still some elasticity left in my muscles.”

  “It’s good, right?”

  “If it goes as well as my doctor thinks it will, it’ll be better than good.”

  “What’ll be good?” His mother walked in at the tail end of Josh’s sentence and kissed Colt on the cheek. “I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “Been up to my neck in alligators,” he said.

  Mary turned. “Josh?”

  “I was just telling Colt about the surgery next week.”

  Her expression lit up. “Isn’t it wonderful how fast they want to do it?” They’d all been devastated by Josh’s injury.

  “Yep,” Colt said, a little choked up.

  “And what’s this I hear about the mayor saying you can’t be part of our team for the kayak races?” Mary asked.

  “He wants me to race a kayak for the police department. You’ll have to live without me this year.”

  Since he was the best kayaker in the Garner family, it would be a big loss. The good news was he couldn’t beat his brothers with Jack as his teammate. Jack was an amazing skier but he couldn’t paddle worth a damn.

  “I never liked that man Mr. Pond and voted for Ken Jenner,” Mary said.

  “Pond is who we’re stuck with, so for now I’m playing by his rules,” Colt said. “Where’s Dad?”

  “He’s taking a group par
asailing, and because I’ve got a pile of work on my desk, I’m going to duck out and let you boys run the meeting,” Mary said.

  “Okay, Mom.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “And you don’t be a stranger. I get to see your brothers at work every day, but I’m missing my eldest. Come by the house one of these nights, Colt, and I’ll fix you dinner.”

  “Will do.”

  As she sailed out of the room, she called, “Don’t fight.”

  Win looked over the pastries while drinking his green smoothie. He was addicted to the repulsive drinks. “We ready to do this? I’ve got a mountain bike group I’m taking out in an hour.”

  “Yeah,” TJ said. “Let’s get started. But maybe Colt should leave if he’s competing against us. I wouldn’t want him to know our strategy.”

  Colt gave his brother the middle finger. “I invented your strategy.” He reached across the table, grabbed a second Danish, and refilled his mug with coffee.

  “Nice pants.” TJ gave them an assessing look. “Where’d you get ’em?”

  “Delaney.”

  “No kidding?”

  Win came over to his end of the room to check them out, and let out a whistle. “I never saw those in Hannah’s shop, just dresses and handbags.”

  “She was playing around with prototypes,” Colt lied.

  “I thought she was high fashion,” TJ said. “She’s doing sports and athletic wear now?”

  “I think she was experimenting. She made a pair of shorts first. I liked them so much I asked her for pants.”

  TJ choked on his coffee. “You asked her for pants? You ever see what her stuff sells for? Even the off-the-rack clothes go for big bucks. It would be like one of our clients asking if we could get Jonny Moseley to give ski lessons. Something’s going on with you two.”

  “Nah, she’s in a creative slump.” Colt doubted Delaney wanted anyone to know that, but his brothers wouldn’t spread it around. “I think she was just messing around.”

  “Hannah said she’s having a tough time with her ex, who got to keep her brand,” Josh said.

  “Well, I’d be interested in carrying those pants”—TJ cocked his head at Colt’s legs—“and the shorts at Garner Adventure.”

  Everyone turned to stare at TJ, and Win asked, “We’re doing retail now?” They barely had enough staff to handle the adventure tours.

  “There’s good money in merch. People have a great experience, they want to commemorate it with a T-shirt . . . or a pair of cargo pants. Maybe we even put our logo somewhere on the pocket and have our guides wear the clothes to market them.”

  “Who’s going to run this shop of yours?” Josh asked the question they were all thinking. TJ liked to think big, but that often meant stretching the rest of the family and the staff to their limits.

  “Since Hannah’s the retail expert, I was thinking she could help with the ordering and any kid could work the cash register. Hell, Darcy could do it.”

  “My wife has her hands full with her own business and Darcy has enough to do with keeping the reservations straight. You’re doing it again, TJ. I appreciate that you want to grow the business, I really do. But we’re not robots.”

  TJ started to argue and Colt put his hands up to keep the peace. “It’s a good idea, TJ. As far as Delaney designing clothes for Garner Adventure—not gonna happen. But I like the idea of T-shirts, sweatshirts, rash guards, whatever. Draw up a business plan, map out who’ll run the enterprise—not Hannah—list the kind of manpower we’ll need, and we’ll take it from there.”

  That seemed to appease everyone.

  Colt, who had lost track of time, glanced at his watch. “I’ve got to get to work,” he told his brothers. “I’ll leave you three to strategize.”

  On his way out he said good-bye to his mother and to Darcy, who barely looked up from her computer monitor. When he got into the office, Jack was hanging around Carrie Jo’s desk.

  “Something going on I should know about?” Colt asked.

  “Pond Scum just delivered our kayak,” Jack said. “I’m not much of a kayaker but even I can tell it’s a piece of shit.”

  It’s not like they had a chance of winning anyway. The mayor just wanted to mess with Colt.

  “Where is it?”

  “The garage. Maybe you and I should go out a few times, get a feel for it.”

  When was Colt supposed to do that? “If I can carve out some time, yeah, sure.”

  “Nice pants,” Carrie Jo said, and fingered the fabric. “They look new.”

  “Delaney Scott made them.”

  “You’re kidding. Doesn’t she make ball gowns and obscenely expensive purses?”

  “And pants and shorts especially for me.” Colt flashed her an arrogant grin.

  “Something going on there?” Carrie Jo asked, and scrutinized Colt’s face. “Oh my God, there is. You’re finally over Lisa. Hallelujah!”

  “There’s nothing going on. We’re neighbors, that’s all.”

  “Then how come you’re blushing?”

  “I’m not blushing. Guys don’t blush.”

  Jack asked, “What about you, Carrie Jo? Who you seeing these days?”

  “I’m off men for the foreseeable future.” She went on to list all the reasons why men sucked, which Colt had no interest in hearing. Strangely enough, Jack continued to loiter at her desk and listen to her bitch.

  Colt shut the office door behind him so he could get some work done. Later, he planned to go down to the garage and have a look at the kayak Pond had delivered. While he was pissed that the mayor was trying to separate him from his family, he didn’t want to go down in flames at the races. He had a reputation to uphold.

  Midway through the day, he strolled over to Old Glory to grab a burger and finalize plans for his gig the night of the End-of-Summer festivities. It was slow and Boden hosed down the back of the bar. Colt grabbed a stool.

  “You want to try this new stout we just got in?” Boden asked.

  “Not while I’m on duty.”

  Boden leaned over the bar. “You’re out of uniform.”

  “Not completely.” Colt stood up so Boden could see his badge and gun belt. “No beer, but I’ll have the Old Glory special.”

  “Coming right up.” Boden called the order in to the kitchen. “How goes it?”

  “It goes.”

  “The mayor still up your ass?”

  “Not so much since the city council meeting.” Colt didn’t bother going into the kayak races. Who knows? Maybe Pond had good intentions.

  “You all set for your show?”

  “Yep. The band’s looking forward to it.”

  The band was a ragtag collection of musicians from the area who all had day jobs. Lisa had been the only member who’d been a pro. Since she’d left fifteen months ago, they hadn’t played too many shows. For a long time, Colt just couldn’t bear to do it. Then life got in the way. But he’d like to start picking up a few gigs here and there again. Music had always been a big part of who he was and it was a shame he’d let Lisa ruin it for him.

  In fact, later, when he got home from work, he picked up his acoustic guitar, sat on the porch, and strummed a few chords. Before he knew it, he was running through one of the band’s favorite set lists. When it came time for “Crazy about You” he stopped, never wanting to hear the song again. Instead, he played “Galway Girl” and stared across the way to Delaney’s house. Usually this time of the evening she was out on her deck watering the flowers or drinking a glass of wine. She was home; her car was parked at the top of her driveway. He hoped she wasn’t avoiding him.

  As if he’d willed it, she stepped outside with her watering can. He whistled and she turned and waved.

  “Want a glass of wine?” He’d stopped at the market on his way home and got a bottle just in case someone dropped by. Ah, jeez, who was he kidding?

  She called back, “No, thanks. I’m working.”

  Then why was she watering her flowers? It sounded like b
ullshit to him. He put his guitar down and crossed the road.

  “We’re not going to be weird, right?” he asked.

  Her lips turned up in a wry smile. “I hope not, but first I have to get over my mortification.”

  “Ah, come on, nothing to be mortified by. I wore the pants today.” He’d changed into old jeans as soon as he’d gotten home.

  “You did?” This seemed to cheer her.

  “Yep. TJ wants to sell them at Garner Adventure.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.” God, she was pretty. “He’s always had delusions of grandeur.”

  “I don’t know, at the rate I’m going ... Not that it wouldn’t be an honor.”

  “Good save,” he said. “Seriously, they were a big hit. Even Carrie Jo noticed them.”

  She glanced over at his porch. “Were you practicing?”

  “Nah, just screwing around. You sure you don’t have time for one glass of wine? A thank-you for the pants.” He told himself that it was only a let’s-get-back-on-even-footing drink.

  “I suppose I could have one glass.”

  “Come over, we’ll have it on my porch.” He hoped he had two glasses that matched.

  “Let me put on a pair of shoes.” She was barefoot, her toenails painted fire-engine red.

  Hot as hell. The little dress, too. Casual, but it hugged every one of her curves.

  He rushed back to his house to grab the wine out of the fridge and hoped she liked sauvignon blanc. He preferred red but a lot of women he knew drank white. He set everything out on a small table on his porch and pulled two chairs up. His stuff wasn’t that great, weathered and kind of beaten up, but it would have to do.

  She came over a few minutes later, carrying a small platter with cheese and crackers. “I had it and figured what the heck.”

  “I could grill something if you’re hungry,” he said, and took the platter from her.

  “This should be fine, but don’t let me stop you from making something for yourself.”

  “I’m good with what you brought.” He poured them each a glass of wine. “How’d your day go?”