Page 172 of Colt

I am, however, wearing the new pair of Ariat boots Colt and Dean gifted me for the holidays. They really are perfect for riding—they’re comfortable and warm, and they can take a beating.

Dean taught me how to tack up, so I go about my business brushing down Cream Puff before settling the saddle pad and saddle on his back.

I don’t miss the proud gleam in Colt’s eyes as he checks my handiwork. “You’re gettin’ good at this, Fort Worth.”

“I’m a fast learner.”

“So I’ve discovered.” He leans in to kiss me.

Dean rolls his eyes as he passes by. “Ugh, seriously, Dad, you’re always kissing her. Why?”

“Because I can.” Colt kisses me again, this time tilting his head a little. “Because I like to.”

“Whatever.”

“Remember where we left Lainey’s present in the tack room?” Colt asks, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

I blink. “My present?”

“Your present!” Dean claps his hands. “I’ll be right back!”

Looking at Colt, I tilt my head. “What did you do?”

“Something you’re gonna like.” His eyes flick to my mouth.

My body lights up. I keep wondering when I’m gonna get sick of this man. When I’ll get used to how often, how well, he touches me.

“You really have to stop with all the presents.”

He scoffs. “Honey, I ain’t ever gonna stop. You’re fun to shop for.”

“You’re fun to f⁠—”

“Lainey! Lainey Lainey Lainey, oh my goodness, you’re gonna love this!” Dean comes galloping toward us with a cowboy hat in his hand. “Dad got it for you! It’s white! Do you love it?”

He holds out the hat to me.

My vision blurs. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Colt takes the hat from his son and puts it on my head. He smiles. “You’re a cowgirl now, remember? And cowgirls gotta look the part.”

“They wear the hat,” Dean says.

Colt’s lips twitch. “They ride the⁠—”

“Horse,” I finish for him, reaching up to touch the brim. “Y’all, this is beautiful!”

Colt nods. “You look cute in a Stetson.”

I reach up to touch his brim. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

“And what about me?” Dean crosses his arms. “I thought I was always the cutest?”

“Always,” Colton says.

“The handsomest too,” I say.

Colt frowns. “Ouch.”