Had Scott ever looked at her like that? Hmm, no. His looks had been hard and sharp and hungry, like the jagged edges of his personality. She’d tried melting into those edges and only cut herself in the process.
Gazing up at her fiance, Mary Grace glowed, much like the setting sun gilding them. Maybe once upon a time, Holly had looked at Scott like that, but if so, not for long. Probably not at allafter they’d gone to bed the first time and everything had melted down afterward like a nuclear reactor. That weekend had killed her illusions cold even if she’d dallied with the relationship and her feelings for him far too long afterward.
What kind of woman stayed fixated for years on a man she would never really have?
A name popped into her head, and she discarded it like a bad overexposure.
She fiddled with the lighting a tad more. Maybe at some point, she’d look at Colt like that . . . and maybe he’d look on her with adoration and wanting that went beyond the bedroom. She frowned over those maybes. No, she had to be sure. Shecouldlook at him with love and devotion, and hecouldlook on her with adoration and a whole kind of wanting. He didn’t need anymore maybes in his life. Holly didn’t want to hurt him.
And she didn’t want to be hurt any longer.
A truck engine rumbled in her driveway, a door slamming moments later. Anticipation unfurled around her heart. The side gate creaked like always, and a mop-like explosion of joy raced around the house and up the deck steps, throwing himself on her in an ecstasy of affection.
“Hey, Ralph.” Smiling, she ruffled his floppy ears, cupping his sweet face with both hands to buss his snout. He whined in adoration, and she laughed, hugging him close, barely sparing a sideways glance at the tall drink of water standing with one foot on the steps, hip cocked, watching them with lifted brows. “You’re late.”
“I said around five-thirty or six. It’s six-oh-three.” Those brows went higher. “I had to pick him up after I went to Carroll’s.”
He’d changed at some point, too, his long body clad in jeans and a blue athletic-fit sweatshirt, although his feet were shovedin a pair of leather Reefs. He came up the steps to drop the grocery bag on the table before going down on his haunches to greet Polo, snoozing under the table.
“Hey, Polo.” He ran a hand over her coat, and she graced him with one careless thump of her tail. With mock concern twisting his face, he glanced up at Holly, and her lungs caught at how damn handsome he was. She forgot that sometimes because of their familiarity. “Have you had her checked out lately? I think she has lazy bones.”
“Oh, my Lord.” She closed her eyes, a snort of disdain tickling her throat. The Gene-level jokes were so lame, but so much more adorable coming from him than from Tick. She just wanted to punch Tick when he was stupid. Colton being stupid-funny made her want to get naked with him. On a sigh, she lifted her lashes. “That is the dumbest–”
The words strangled in her throat. He’d straightened, only to bend over her chair, long fingers wrapped around the arms, and his mouth was mere inches from hers, dark eyes trained on her face. One corner of his lips hitched in a lazy grin. “Hey, Holly.”
“Hey.” Her own lips stretched into a smile, she leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his, letting him catch her lower lip between his for a teasing kiss before he drew back.
“Still want to bust my chops over three minutes?” He passed a thumb over her lips.
She dared to taste his skin with the tiniest point of her tongue and watched his eyes darken. “Depends on your grilling skills.”
With a quiet laugh, he straightened and pulled away, leaving her missing the sense of being sheltered and warmed by his body. He strode to the grill and tugged off the cover with economical movements. Photography forgotten, she watched the play of his limbs, the light and shadow on his face while hefired up the appliance and pulled a wrapped butcher’s parcel and pre-made vegetable kabobs from the grocery bag.
Fiddling with the gas dials, he slanted a look at her. “How was your day?”
“Stressful. We had a collie who’d been hit by a car, then Mrs. Louella had to put her cat to sleep.” Sitting with their high school teacher while she’d mourned Minxie had been tough. Meeting his sympathetic gaze, she shrugged. “It’s getting better.”
“I’m glad.” He laid steaks and kabobs on the grate and closed the lid. Under the thin sweatshirt, his shoulders shifted as he reached for the tongs and clicked them a couple of times.
Pulling a foot under her, Holly propped her elbow on the table, chin in hand while she watched him move. “How about you?”
“It was decent. That office deal will take some time to get used to.” The small grooves by his mouth deepened while he talked. She liked that shadow of stubble on his jaw, too. A sensory memory of just a hint of abrasion against her fingertips when she’d touched his face to kiss him shivered over her. “Had lunch with Mama, which is always a blast.”
She fiddled with her fringe. “I detect sarcasm there, Colton.”
Leanly muscled shoulders moved in a shrug. “You know how she is, especially about me, and her anxiety, dear Jesus. I got in trouble for pulling my phone out while we were eating.”
“I doubt she fussed at you for pulling out your phone.”
“I got the look.” His chuckle slid over her like smooth, warmed brandy. “You know the one . . . ‘Colt, you’re breaking a social nicety rule. Tuck your shirt in, comb your hair, blah, blah, blah.’”
Biting her tongue, she looked away. She did know that look of Sue’s, and he was as bad about his mama as she was about Mona. “The maturity of that monologue is astounding.”
“Hey, you want to date me, you’re gonna have to listen to me fuss about my mama.” He flipped the steaks. “I love her, but my Lord. I had the phone out for all of five seconds, andIbroughtherlunch.”
She smiled. “Don’t be mean about Sue. She loves you.”
“Oh, she adores me.” He cast her one of those lifted-brow glances over his shoulder. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t drive me nuts.”
