Someone blackout drunk can’t consent.
He shied from that. She’d been drunk, reeking of the rum soaking her shirt, so what did that make him?
The guy who didn’t deserve a chance to atone for anything.
“Colt?” Sitting cross-legged beside him, sunlight gilding her curves, she stroked a hand over his belly.
“I gotta get moving.” He jackknifed to sit up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “You know how Gene is.”
“I do.” Her soft, questioning tone grated down his spine. He straightened, shrugging off the sensation. She cared about him,and she wasn’t to blame for his past decisions and the fallout. He needed to find a way to keep his bullshit separate from them — she’d been hurt enough and he didn’t want to add to that.
“Come on.” His voice was gruff, but that could be put down to a brain-stunning orgasm. He cleared his throat. “Let’s clean up so I don’t have to listen to Gene fuss and you can go pretend you’re still a virgin for your mama.”
“You’re hilarious.” Her light tone said he hadn’t quite covered his stress and guilt, but she was letting it pass. Relief bled out in a silent sigh. He didn’t want to fight this morning. He just needed to hold it together.
That was all.
True to his word — when he gave D a promise, he tried to keep it — he pulled into Gene and Louise’s driveway at ten after eight, his hair a tad damp still, the electric shave not quite as close as a wet one. Gene’s clubs waited on the porch, and he set them in the back with his own. His heart lightened as he approached the side door — Louise loved him hard, without reservation, and feeling bad in her presence was impossible.
About like he felt in Holly’s presence.
His brain nibbled around the edges of that, like the sensation held something important and enriching, but he couldn’t chase that down this morning. He needed his focus on keeping himself together.
Rapping a knuckle on the glass, he pushed open the door, aromas of rich coffee and savory breakfast casserole engulfing him. His mouth watered even as his stomach rebelled at the idea of food, coffee and acid pushing into his esophagus.
Constant stress really was a bitch.
“Colt.” Louise beamed at him and rose from the table to hug him, red hair a fluffy cloud about her shoulders. She was still in her cotton pajamas and silk robe, but Gene finished off hisbreakfast, already dressed for the golf course. She hugged him hard, kissing his cheek and rubbing his back. “Are you hungry?”
“No, ma’am.” Not for food anyway. Unconditional affection? Well, that was another story, always was. He held on tight, eyes squeezed shut. She always filled up the barren places in him, and days stretched between these hugs. He saved them up, banking them for the lonely hours in between.
Holly had started filling those spaces, pouring light and laughter into the dark cracks and crevices, like the way he could pour a shining river of epoxy into a cracked slab of knotty cypress or cedar.
“If you want something, dish it up for the road.” Gene wiped his mouth then rose to take his dishes to the dishwasher. “Our tee time is at nine, and we still have to pick up your cousin.”
His cousin? He had five, three of whom golfed. His intuition tingled to life, leaving him with a really bad feeling about this. “Which one?”
Gene topped off his travel mug with coffee he probably was supposed to skip because of his cholesterol levels. “Lamar. He wants to leave the Jeep with Caitlin.”
Fuck.
Colt scuffed a hand over his nape, skin hot and itchy beneath his fingertips. “He has his old Ford.”
“No reason for him to get it out if we can run him with us.” Gene fixed him with a level look over the rim of his mug. Louise watched him, too, love and concern softening her gaze.
Shit.
Fuck.
Hell.
Tick, in Colt’s truck. Distaste shuddered over him. How the everlovin’ heck were they even going to get Tick in the truck? Because he wasn’t going to want to ride with Colt.
“Sooner or later, you two boys are going to have to get past what’s wrong between you.” Gene brooked no argument. “Act like the men you are.”
Shame burned Colt’s face and neck, settled into a lump of ice in the pit of his stomach. He tensed his gut, like waiting for a punch, although the fist to his jaw had never come.
“Nothing wrong between us.” Bile coated the roof of his mouth. He wouldn’t lie. “It’s just the way things are. I broke his trust, and we stay out of each other’s way.”
