Marshall shook his head to clear his thoughts and rolled over to the other side of the bed. He needed to get back to work and suppress all these lovey-dovey feelings. Nothing good would come of them. Unrealistic expectations were the death of joy. He was used to a simple life, a fulfilling routine, and looking forward to a successful future as a rancher.
Becoming too involved with Colette didn’t fit into the equation. Especially developing strong feelings for her when she wouldn’t be staying. He frowned as he lifted his jeans off the floor quietly, trying to keep his belt buckle quiet. This felt a lot like running, but he knew he would be back. Marshall King was afraid of love, but he wasn’t a fool. For as long as she wanted him, he would be coming around.
Nothing could keep him away.
Stretching her hands above her head, Colette yawned beneath the sheets. Resisting every instinct to gather her up in his arms and meld his body to hers once more, he picked up his socks from the ground and eyed his phone on the dresser. Evan would have called if anything was amiss, so he assumed everything must have been going smoothly this morning.
“Are you leaving already?” Colette asked, resting her head in her hand and turning to watch him dress. “Seems a shame to cover up all that glory.”
Crawling over the bed to join her, he tilted her chin and pressed his lips upon her rosy-pink mouth. “Darlin’, you can see that glory anytime you like.”
Colette rolled onto her back, pulling him down and sending shivers running up his spine as her fingers twined in his hair. His hands curved around her warm skin, reluctant to let go.
This was pure madness.
He was losing his mind over this woman.
“I have to go check that Evan is doing okay,” he said, a lingering kiss the only way he could think of to punctuate his sentence. Groaning, he retreated from the heat of the bed and picked up his shirt from where it was draped on a cross-back chair with a blue and white gingham cushion. Donning his shirt, he buttoned it up slowly as she watched, his blood boiling under the heat of her gaze. While saying nothing, her eyes made him want to rip his clothes off and jump back in bed, if only just to please her.
“I’ll see you tonight, maybe? I’ll just be hanging around here,” she said, with a breathy sigh.
“It’s a date. Maybe we can watch a movie or something? Is that what normal people do with their free time?” he suggested, tucking his shirt and reaching for his phone.
Why were there so many messages?
“Fuck,” Marshall said, using a finger to scroll over his messages. Things were apparently not running smoothly this morning.
“What is it?” Colette sat up in bed, using a sheet to cover her nakedness. He eyed the white fabric with contempt. How dare she hide herself from him?
“Evan sent a couple texts asking for help this morning,” he explained. “Jack didn’t show up for work.”
Brows gathering in concern, Marshall tried to remember if Jack had asked for the day off. Sometimes they took the odd dayfor appointments or special occasions. Wouldn’t be a big deal if he did.
“That seems unusual,” Colette mused. “Jack’s always the first one on the job in the morning, right?” Marshall searched for his keys and where the fuck was his other sock? Colette popped out of bed, reaching a hand beneath the bed and pulling out what he was searching for.
“Here,” she said, handing it to him, then reaching her hands around his neck. She tugged him down for a last kiss and he cupped her naked ass in his hands.
“Thanks.”
“I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.” She giggled as he pulled the last sock onto his foot.
“Yeah, you’re a brilliant accountant, that’s what.” He smirked. “Go back to bed, I’ll see myself out.”
His last sight of Colette was her nuzzling back into the sheets with a breathy sigh. “Keep me updated. I’m worried about Jack,” her voice called out behind him.
“I’m sure it’s nothing.” His mouth flattened; the words more hopeful than Marshall actually was. It wouldn’t be a big deal to call his house or make the quick drive and check on him. With the number of things he was missing these days, it was possible he had forgotten something Jack had told him.
As he lifted his jacket off the hook, a nagging fear clawed at his chest. Jack was as predictable as the sunrise over the prairies. The man followed his daily schedule to the letter.
Every. Damn. Day.
Sighing, Marshall opened the door, a blast of chilly morning air finishing the job of dusting off any remaining traces of sleepiness. Dialing Evan’s phone number, he walked briskly to the truck, letting himself in as the phone rang.
“Marshall, where the fuck are you?”
“Sorry, I had my phone off. What’s going on?”
Resting a fist on the steering wheel, he waited for his friend’s response and started the engine.
