Page 81 of Colt

I take pride in how Dean and I have made this house a home. He and I work hard to take care of it. Guess it’s just nice to have someone over to enjoy it with us.

Maybe I really am lonely, much as I hate to admit it.

Still, my heart takes a tumble of relief when Lainey says, “I’d love to stay. You sure⁠—”

“I’m sure.” I rise from the table and tuck my chair underneath it. “Another beer?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

She pushes up her sleeves. “What can I do? How about I make the plates⁠—”

“Naw, Dallas, you’re gonna sit.” I nod at the table before heading for the stove. “Y’all gotta finish building the rest of that spooky stuff, remember?”

Is that heat I see in her eyes?

She like it when I boss her around?

Or does she just like to be fed? Taken care of?

She also looks a little lost as she glances at the table.

“You all right?” I ask.

“Yeah. Yeah, I just… It’s weird to be sitting again. In a good way, I mean. Growing up, I was always helping my mom do everything. She waits on everyone.”

“And now it’s weird letting someone wait on you.”

She blinks. “Yes. Exactly.”

You’d best get used to it when you’re with me.

No clue where that thought comes from. But I’m suddenly gripped by the fierce need to show her how it’s properly done—how she should be treated.

That’s something Dean needs to learn. Absolutely why I’m doing it. Yes. For Dean.

Not at all for naked purposes, because that would be shameless and wrong.

Not like waiting on people isn’t second nature for me. Been doing it for what feels like forever. You got no choice when you’re raising a baby on your own. You just put your head down and get to work.

Might as well let Lainey enjoy the fruits of my labor.

“Sit,” I repeat. “Don’t make me tell you again.”

One side of her mouth kicks up. “Or what?”

Or I’m gonna feed you more than just dinner.

Lord, my mind is one dirty motherfucker tonight.

Do I care?

“Miss Lainey, can we draw together?” Dean asks. “Remember you said we could.”

She gasps. “That’s right! Here, let me get my notebook so I can show you what I’m working on.” She cuts me a glance as she walks across the kitchen to her bag. “It’s top secret stuff, though, so we can’t show your dad.”

Dean gets up and opens the cabinet where we keep his arts and crafts stuff. “I can keep secrets.”