Waiting for Colt to come back felt like hours even though just fifteen minutes have passed. Suddenly, the lock untwisted again and she seized, scared of who would be on the other side of the door, but when Nugget nosed his way in, she sighted with relief.
“No sign of him,” Colt said. “He’s gone for tonight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. He’ll probably assume I’m staying here tonight. And most guys don’t believe that men and women can actually just be friends so I think he won’t be interrupting us.”
Now that I think about it, he and I were never really friends,” Natalie said. “He was my boss, and then we were dating, and then . . . I don’t know. Feels like I wasted so many years.”
“Nah,” Colt said. “You built a career. You made friends. Definitely not wasted.” He sat down beside her. “Let me get you something before I go. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Tea might calm you down. Or maybe something stronger. Tequila?”
“That sounds good,” Natalie said, cracking a smile.
“Let’s see what you got.” Colt moved to stand, but Natalie grabbed his arm.
“Don’t,” she said. “I mean . . . don’t go.”
Colt sat back down. “No problem. I can sit here a while,” he said. “Tea can wait.”
“Don’t go at all,” Natalie said. “I’m scared he’ll come back. I’ll never be able to fall asleep.”
Colt took her hand, lacing her fingers with his. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”
“I’ll make up the couch. You can sleep here.”
“No problem,” he said.
“Is that alright?” Natalie suddenly panicked. “Is that asking too much? You’ve been with me all day, you probably have things to do . . . you must have a life, friends. A date.”
“No dates,” Colt said. He laughed. “I haven’t had time to think about dating since I was discharged.” He paused, eyes fixed on their interlaced hands. “I’d rather stay here with you than be anywhere else.”
Natalie stopped shaking. “Okay. I’m glad,” she said. She pressed her fingers into his.
Colt’s knee rested against hers, and she suddenly hated how high Kaylin had sewn the boot covers, the fabric shielding her skin. She wanted to pull his hand down her inner thigh, turn his face to hers.
His phone rang. Colt checked the screen and darkened it again, switching off the sound. “It can wait. You’re more important.”
“Rusty should pay you extra, for charm.”
“You think I’m charming?” Colt grinned. “I’ll get that tea going. Unless you do want something stronger. I saw a bottle of red on your counter . . . ” he started to stand, but Natalie tightened her grip on his hand.
“No,” she said. Her heart pounded. “I mean . . . there’s vodka in the freezer.”
“Straight? Mixer? Chaser?”
“Straight,” Natalie said. “Bring the bottle.” She let him go, and Colt came back with a frosted bottle of Smirnov and a shot glass he’d found in the back of her glassware. Natalie poured herself a shot and sent it down the back of her throat. She handed the glass to Colt. “Not polite to make me drink alone.”
Colt poured the glass to the brim and pressed the rim to his mouth where hers had just been. “Better?” He set the bottle on the table. Natalie smiled to herself that he hadn’t turned the glass to a new side or wiped it clean.
“I want out of these clothes already,” she said. Her hair had fallen loose from the buns and she lifted it off her shoulders, turning her back to Colt. “Can you help me untie these?”
Colt tugged the stays loose, unlacing the ribbon hole by hole. Natalie gripped the front of the corset to her chest as the back fell open.
“There,” Colt said, letting the last lacing fall. He touched the exposed skin on her back with his fingertips. Goosebumps erupted on Natalie’s body.
She fumbled, knowing he’d seen what his touch did to her skin. But why had he touched her? She wanted to think . . . to not think, actually. She wanted to act.
She faced him, letting her hair spill down her shoulders and back. “Thank you.”
