Page 10 of Colton’s Mate

“I could do that,” Colt said. “Or we could go over there together and totally fuck with those assholes. Who, unlike me, really do think your girl-brain and your Hidden Lotus of Ecstasy prevent you from understanding the buildy things.”

“My Hidden Lotus of what, now?”

“I can call it your Sausage Box, if you prefer.”

“I do not prefer.” This conversation was getting decidedly off-track. She decided to change the subject. “Fuck with them how?”

“Just follow my lead.” The sexy grin widened. “I dare you.”

Apparently, Bad Girl Callie couldn’t resist a dare.

He tucked her arm through his, and they walked back over to the contractor and the adjustor.

Seeing that Colt was a man and everything, the adjustor immediately shifted his attention from Callie to him.

“Jackson H. Higgins,” he said, holding out his hand. “Glad you could come by. I don’t think the little lady rightly understood what I was tryin’ to explain to her here.”

Right. Callie suppressed a growl.

Rather than shaking Jackson H. Higgins’ hand, Colt reached for the clipboard Callie was still holding. Jackson H. got a little red and removed his hand from mid-air.

“Here, babycakes,” Colt said to Callie. “Let me see that paperwork.”

Callie gave him an exaggerated pout. “Don’t you think I can handle it, smoochyface?”

He gazed fondly down at her. “And you with no penis? Of course you can’t. Don’t be a ninnymuggins, sweetums.” Both Jackson H. Higgins and Bobby the Contractor froze at the word ‘penis.’

Callie handed over the clipboard and Colt leafed through the paperwork.

When he was done, he cocked his head to the side, all wide-eyed and innocent. Only another cat shifter would have recognized the ‘I see a tasty bird and I’m about to pounce’ look in his eyes.

Colt said, “So what I heard you saying when I came up was, you first thought the entire foundation needed to be torn out and re-poured, and that’s how you wrote up the claim, which your company approved. But now you see it doesn’t need that.”

“That’s right.” Higgins beamed at Callie as if to say, ‘He gets it. Because penises and buildy things.’

Colt went on, “So… what happens to the extra money? Are you submitting a revised claim?” He paged back through the paperwork again. “I don’t see anything.”

Jackson H. Higgins spoke to him once more in that confidential ‘all us dicks together’ tone. “You see, the claim’s already approved, so we can leave that how it is. We’ll just turn the payout over to Bobby here,” he indicated the contractor, “and he can get started right away, with no delay. It’s kinda like when you get in a car accident, and your mechanic fixes the car for the price of what the insurance is gonna give you, so you don’t have to pay no deductible.”

He grinned at Colt. “Only this time, y’all don’t just come out even. You save all that time not rippin’ the foundation out, plus you got that extra money in your pocket. We can put it in as a credit on y’all’s account with Bobby. Maybe get yourselves some nice upgrades.”

Or it would end up in Bobby’s pocket, with Jackson H. Higgins getting his cut, of course.

“Uh huh,” Colt said. “I think I better just go take a look at that foundation.”

He handed the clipboard back to Callie, and then walked over and jumped down into the foundation hole.

Bobby the Contractor jogged after him. “You can’t go down there! It’s a hard hat area!”

“Don’t worry,” Callie called. “His skull’s super-thick. Go ahead, drop something on it. You’ll see.”

Colt just laughed at that, the idiot.

He wasn’t gone long, which told Callie that either the foundation was so obviously shit that an expert could tell it at a glance, or Colt had no clue what he was doing and was only pretending.

Considering that Kitty had told her they’d all grown up on construction sites, and they were in the process of totally gutting and rebuilding their mansion on their own, Callie had a feeling it was option number one.

She fucking hated scamming peckers. A lot.