Page 55 of Colton’s Mate

Oh, hell.

She waited for Colt to knock and then counted to five before she answered the door, because a girl had to have some pride and not go racing to let the hot guy inside like she’d been looking out the window and waiting for him to show, which she definitely hadn’t.

But as soon as she opened the door and saw him standing there, she couldn’t help herself. She felt warm all over and a smile went and put itself on her face without her permission, because he was so sexy and gorgeous, but also because his eyes looked so hopeful.

And his smile was devastating—and genuine. It looked like seeing her actually made him happy.

Double hell.

They just stood there looking at each other and smiling, until Callie realized she hadn’t invited him in. Or even said ‘hello.’

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey.” They looked at each other some more. “I hope this isn’t a bad time,” he added.

“No, it’s fine. Come in.”

His presence seemed to fill her living room. She offered him a seat, and then she offered him a beer. He said yes to both but then he didn’t take either one of them.

He was looking at her with total intensity, like he was trying to see inside her.

“What?” she said, putting her hand reflexively to her hair. “Do I have a dead mouse stuck in my hair or something?”

He smiled at that. “No. But my owl would probably like it if you did. Snacks.”

That made her laugh, which broke the ice.

“Can I say something?” he asked.

“I was kind of hoping you hadn’t come over here just to, you know. Stand there looking at me.”

That made the corners of his eyes crinkle up. “I can think of worse ways to spend the afternoon, but no.” He took a beer and cracked it open, then handed it to her. “Brace yourself. I’m about to talk serious. This might be a once-in-a-lifetime thing for you, so I hope you’re paying attention.”

She took the open beer and handed him the other one. He set it on the dining-room table.

“Okay, look. I was actually kind of shocked when you said you liked the bid. Remy totally went over the top with that, but he was having such a good time I didn’t have the heart to stop him. I did tell him you’d think we were total doofuses and he said we are, so we might as well be upfront about it. That’s true. We’re goofy and annoying and we like to prank people and have trouble taking stuff seriously. And we talk dirty, and… shit. If I list all the crap that’s wrong with us you’ll definitely say no to everything.”

That wasn’t true. She liked that he was funny and talked dirty and made contractor almost-porn. She just didn’t know if she wanted to get serious. Was he getting serious right now?

He took the beer out of her hand, took a long swig, and handed it back to her. That intense look came over his face again.

“But here’s the thing,” he said. “I really want to help you rebuild your bar, and dammit, I’m really fucking good at what I do. I guess I want you to know that—that there’s something I’m excellent at.”

He wanted her to take him seriously. To think well of him. That made the little part of her heart that had gotten all warm and shiny the night they made love get warmer and shinier. He was giving her the honest part of him.

And that was fine. She’d pretty much decided to hire him to rebuild the bar—that’s why she’d sent the email. It was the other part she needed to get straight. The personal part.

She took a deep breath. “Okay. I get all that, and I appreciate it. I do. But I just don’t get it. Why do you want to do this so much? Why does my bar matter to you?”

He blew out a soft sigh. “Because it’s not about the bar. It’s about you. And me. Us.”

There it was. He’d said it out loud, and now it was just lying there on the dining-room floor between them. And she didn’t know what to say. She’d barely said anything since he arrived, and now she only managed three words.

“What about us?”

He looked down at the floor briefly, biting his lip. Then he said, “Look. I need to confess something to you, okay? It’s been bothering me.”

Oh hell, now what? “Okay?”