“Jealous of Colt?” Denny laughs. “Has AlexmetColt?”
The fuck does that mean?
My eyebrows bunch together so tight, the muscles begin to twitch. I sit up a little taller, hearing nothing but blood rushing past my eardrums.
I unclench my jaw enough to reply, “He should be jealous. Colt actually has a relationship with Jonas. That’s a hell of a lot more than Alex can say.”
The tension in the air is so thick, Mom could cut it with a butter knife despite her frail state. Blair’s staring me down—pupils so much wider than normal it feels as if she’s boring into my soul. She knows.
Mom quietly clears her throat. “Where’s Jonas, honey?”
“He’s at home sleeping, Mom.” I hook a thumb in the direction of the front door. “He’s been working so hard on the ranch, the poor kid is pooped out.”
Everything about her nod says she understands. The vacant expression softening her features indicates otherwise.
“He’s been doing a good job out there,” Denny says. “I wasn’t too sure at the beginning of the summer, but he’s pulling his weight now.”
I do my best to look a little surprised by this information, as if Colt doesn’t fill me in every time he drops Jonas off.
“So, little sis. What do you want for your birthday?” Blair smiles over at me.
“Wine. Preferably a tanker truck full.”
She shakes her head with a breathy laugh. “I don’t know if we can get a tanker truck full, but a bottle or two is doable. Also, we should go out tomorrow night.”
“Not happening.”
“Come on. You’re turningthirty. That’s a big deal, Whit. Plus, this is the first time I’ve been around for your birthday since before you could legally drink.Oh,let’s go to The Horseshoe.”
“That’s your pain meds talking.” I quirk a brow. “I have literallyneverbeen there, nor do I ever intend on going. Drinking and socializing with all the locals I hate sounds like my personal hell.”
Providing fodder for the town gossips? No, thanks. They’ll probably make up some bullshit rumor that I left my kid home alone so I could go out drinking, furthering the narrative that I’m a shitty mom.
“Okay, then we’ll go to Sheridan.” Blair sits up straighter,knocking her bowl of chips on the ground in her excited state. “You probably won’t know anybody there. Jonas can stay here with Dad for the night. It’ll be perfect.”
I glance at Denny, who gives me an enthusiastic thumbs-up in response. “If anybody you don’t want to talk to bothers you at the bar, we’ll whack ’em with Blair’s cast. That thing hurts when it hits you in the shin—ask me how I know.”
Blair grabs his hand and squeezes. “We can ask Red and Cass if they want to come. And whoever you want to invite…”
She trails off like she’s expecting me to have a list of invitees, despite knowing I have exactly zero friends. Most of my friends quit hanging out with me when they realized how much having a kid at nineteen cramped my style.
“I’m sure some of the ranch hands will come,” Denny says. “Colt, for sure. He’s always down for a night out.”
Something simmers low in my core at the mention of Colt. At the possibility of hanging out with him in a kid-free environment.
“You really think we won’t see anybody we know there?” I ask hesitantly.
Denny purses his lips and shakes his head. “Nah. Most people aren’t driving an hour to go to the bar when there’s one in Wells Canyon that’s within stumbling distance of their houses.”
I gnaw at my cheek, debating. Except I’m not debating. I was sold on the idea the moment Denny mentioned Colt’s name.
Blair bats her eyes at me. “Come on. It’ll be fun.”
“Okay.Fine.” I roll my eyes to really sell it. “I guess I’ll go.”
Colt
Turns out, I’m insufferable with a mustache, but there’s something about having what my uncle refers to as a “cookie duster” that feels really fucking cool. I should’ve guessed based on how often I need to shave my face normally that this new style would have no problem growing in thick. And I’ve been channeling Burt Reynolds, putting time into styling and trimming it, in the hopes that the only body hair one might compare to pubes is…well, my pubes.
