Page 44 of Colton’s Mate

He’d really do this for her—run her whole project, for months—and he’d do it for nothing but whiskey.

This was Colt, she realized. Crazy. Generous. Smart. Competent. Dirty-talking. Irrepressible. Seemingly irresponsible—but that couldn’t be true. Not with all these construction projects to his credit.

There was so much more to him than the party boy he usually showed to the world.

Callie tilted the envelope and the thumb drive slid out into her hand. She really wanted to see the other projects—but first, she couldn’t wait to see Remy’s ad.

She went inside and brought out her laptop, then plugged the thumb drive into the USB port. Less than a minute in, she was laughing so hard she almost spit her mimosa.

It was a totally cheesy montage of contractor almost-porn, featuring the twins, of course. Lots of poses in teeny-tiny cutoff shorts that didn’t quite cover their butt cheeks, work boots, and no shirts.

The two of them at the mansion, supposedly doing renovations, with large tools held in provocative poses, mostly around the crotch.

Lots of lifting of heavy things, still shirtless, showing their muscles rippling. Also a shot of Remy crouched down, plumber’s crack showing above his short-shorts, looking over his shoulder with a wicked grin. One of Colt wearing a toolbelt and nothing else, his junk barely covered. His head wasn’t in it, but she knew it was him because she could see her name peeking out from under the strap of the tool belt.

Either the marker hadn’t come off in the shower, or he hadn’t tried that hard to get rid of it.

She ran that one back a few times, because damn that naked-under-the-tool-belt thing made her want to go over to the mansion, put him up against the wall, and…

The hair on the back of her neck prickled suddenly, and she looked up to see him standing in front of her. No, not Colt.

Remy again. At least he was wearing clothes. Because, so awkward if he wasn’t, especially with nearly naked Colt right there on the screen.

“Hey, Remy.” She hastily shut her laptop, feeling her face get red.

Remy smirked. “I told him you’d watch the video even if he told you not to.”

Callie shrugged. “I quit doing what I was told right about the time Caleb almost beat me to death. What was the point, if that’s all I get?”

“I hear you,” Remy agreed. “Colt and I haven’t done what we’re told since, well, ever.”

Callie nodded. Why had he come back? He was giving off a weird vibe that was making her uncomfortable. Intense, and bordering on unfriendly.

But he’d helped Colt with his ‘contractor bid.’ He’d made that silly video. He’d even delivered the whole thing to her. So what was his problem?

He said abruptly, “How’d you know it was me? The owl? For that matter, how did you know it was me right now, and not him?”

She remembered what Kitty said to her, in the bar, about telling them apart. She hadn’t realized its significance at the time.

“I always know,” she said softly.

He nodded, as if she’d confirmed something.

Remy took a deep breath, not looking at her. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything. But… he’s not just goofing around here. He wants to do this project.” There was a pause. “And he wants to spend time with you.”

He did? Callie froze, her mind racing. How much time? Like, dating time? Even… relationship time?

But that couldn’t be what Remy meant. He and Colt didn’t do relationships.

Except… shit. He did mean that. That’s what that vibe was about.

She looked at Remy again.

“So, how do you feel about that?”

He was watching her, his eyes so much like Colt’s. Everything was just like Colt. But when she looked at Remy, she didn’t feel anything like what she felt when she looked at Colt.

This thing with her and Colt wasn’t about the outsides, how hot he was. It was more than that. And Remy knew it.