Pivoting, he walked into the bedroom, and Holly sagged, a slow breath bleeding between her lips. Holding her slipping towel in place with one hand, she stared at her other, at her trembling fingers. Emotion curled around her heart, gripping tight, so her chest ached. They were friends and this was supposed to be easy, not too challenging or too deep or too messy. And this was not . . . that.
In the bedroom, the television flicked on, that actor’s deep voice in another language. She closed her eyes. Subtitles again, symbols and subtext, a language she didn’t understand.
What the hell had she done to her life, toherself, getting involved with him?
Chapter Seventeen
Well, hell, this promised to be a fun evening.
Hands shoved in his pockets, Colt followed Holly up the walk to the assisted living home. Chinese food and football hadn’t been bad at all because Mrs. Mona was always a hoot. Plus, she liked him, and if he was the consolation prize since Tick wouldn’t be her son-in-law, she was okay with that and kept the idea to herself.
If Holly had been quiet, a little more reserved than normal . . . well, last night had been intense, the sex and the emotions. He’d spent the night, tucking her in close to him, but she’d already been up when he woke, fussing around with editing pictures, trying to act normal and failing miserably.
All he could do, really, was wait it out, see where they ended up, and count his blessings that she hadn’t kicked him out of her bed.
Or out of her life.
She’d kissed him goodbye when he left to run home and mess around with Ralph, shower and change, and she’d kissed him hello when he’d shown back up to collect her for this shindig of Barlow’s he knew was breaking her heart.
Because it had always been her and Barlow’s shindig, and now it wasn’t.
“Remind me to take some photos of the floral arrangements tonight for your mama.” She glanced at him over her shoulder while he held the door for her. She had one of Mama’s seasonal arrangements from the night before in hand, to drop off to Mrs. Sadie, a visit designed to kill time before Barlow’s party and give her some space.
“Sure thing.” His boots scuffed on the polished brick flooring, another of Mama’s creations on the round cherry tableunder the bright chandelier. The foyer stretched into a long hallway, rooms designed with facades to resemble houses, an attempt to make the place feel cozy and homelike. Even with the florals and whatever scents they sprayed, the place still smelled like disinfectant and despair.
Her heels clicked with her brisk steps, green sequined skirt swishing and sparkling. The black sweater she’d paired with it was so soft he struggled to keep his hands to himself. She always shone, but tonight, she sparkled more than ever, so he wasn’t sure if the outfit was an act of defiance or what.
He wasnotgoing to ruin the night by putting his fist in Barlow’s mouth. Wiping off the guy’s smug grin might make him feel better, but she’d be pissed as hell. The last thing he wanted was to end what would be a rough night with a fight.
With her, anyway.
She paused at the third door on the left and rapped a gentle knuckle on the door. “Grandma?”
He supposed the muffled reply was permission to enter since Holly pushed the door open, a soft smile in place. Mrs. Sadie eyed them with an expectant expression, pleasure glowing in her faded blue eyes. “My Holly-girl . . . and you’ve brought Lamar with you.”
Colt cringed, bunching his hands in his pockets.
“Hey, Gran.” She leaned in to embrace Mrs. Sadie’s slight form, brushing a kiss over her wrinkled cheek. “That’s Colt, Lamar’s cousin. Remember?”
Mrs. Sadie squinted at him, lips pursed. Well, hell, what was up with that look, like he didn’t even rate as a consolation prize? “Misplaced my glasses.”
“You don’t wear them anymore since you had your cataract surgery.” Holly crouched by her wing chair, holding the flowerswhere Mrs. Sadie could see them. “Colt is Mrs. Sue Calvert’s son. She made this, and I thought you’d like it.”
“Sue . . . runs the flower shop. Married to Gene’s son, D.” Mrs. Sadie shook a trembling finger between her and Holly. Her mouth thinned to a sad line. “She lost a baby, a little girl.”
Colt closed his eyes. He barely remembered the loss, but it hurt.
“She did.” Holly feathered her fingers over Mrs. Sadie’s knee. “A long time ago.”
“These are pretty.” Mrs. Sadie fingered the edge of an ivory mum, then pointed at the chest next to the bed. “Put them over there.”
Holy . . . the old girl was bossy as all get out. Colt swallowed a snort. So that’s where she got it from.
Straightening with a swish of sequins, Holly crossed to adjust the items atop the chest so the flowers would fit. She rubbed a finger over the cedar. “This is new, Gran. Where did it come from?”
Mrs. Sadie twirled a hell-if-I-know gesture. “It just showed up.”
Shooting an exasperated smile over her shoulder, Holly crouched, running her fingertips over the small drawers that made up the chest. “This is gorgeous. What are you keeping in all these drawers?”
