Page 66 of Colt

She grins. “Thanks for saying that. Anyway, I gotta run. Lainey, it was great meeting you.” Pulling me in for a hug, she gives me a squeeze. “By the way, I don’t know how long you’re staying in Hartsville, but I’m in a band that plays at the bar downtown Friday nights. You should come.”

“The Rattler is for degenerates and drunks,” Dean replies.

Colton chuckles. “Someone’s been hanging out with Dale.”

“Pawpaw is the best.”

Colton shakes his head. “The things you remember.”

“Only the important stuff.” Dean glances over his shoulder at his daddy and grins.

Colton presses a noisy kiss to Dean’s little cheek. “You’re cute.”

“I know.”

“But let’s not say that again, all right?” Colton glances at me. “Especially not when we’re in polite company.”

I’m not always polite, I want to say.

His eyes dance. You handcuffed me. I know.

After we see Sally off, Colton and Dean drive me back to my apartment. With the windows rolled down and a Johnny Cash album turned up, the short ride is actually enjoyable.

“So, Lainey,” Dean says when we pull up to my door. “When are we gonna play with my LEGO bricks? And draw together again? Remember you said we’d do that stuff?”

Colton glances at his son in the rearview mirror. “Dean, c’mon. We just took up Miss Lainey’s whole morning⁠—”

“It’s all right,” I say with a laugh. “I’d love to play with your LEGO bricks. Maybe sometime this week?”

“Deal,” Dean replies.

My gaze sweeps over the glove box as I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door. It could be fun to break open that sinner’s chest Colton keeps in there. Wonder if he’s added the handcuffs?

Not like it matters. I feel stupid thinking we’ll hook up again, even if he did mention wanting another round.

Even if he was decently kind today.

“Thank y’all so much for the best morning I’ve had in a long time.” I glance over my shoulder. “Dean, we’ll play, I promise.”

Colton’s got his wrist draped over the steering wheel. “See you around?”

I look at him. “I’m trying to stay out of the way.”

One side of his mouth kicks up. “Since when do you ever listen to me?”

The way this man maintains extended eye contact is…something else. I’m smiling too when I reply, “Never. See ya.”

I don’t realize how little I’ve thought about Mom or my family in general all morning until I’m at the kitchen table, playing around with color schemes in my graphic design software.

Is it sad if I feel good focusing on something other than my family? Because when I’m not thinking about my parents or worried about what they might think of the choices I’m making, I actually enjoy myself.

I’m just doing what makes me happy. And right now, that’s creating.

So I create, and I think about handsome cowboys while I do it.

Turns out that’s a hell of a lot more fun.

Maybe more fulfilling too.