Page 79 of Never Really Over

And I kind of love her even more for it.

By the time I get to Colt’s, I’ve already caught up with my mother who drives like a turtle. We get out at the same time and I greet her with a, “Very sneaky, Mother.”

“I have no idea what you could be talking about,” is her very innocent response.

Colt opens the door wide, Poppy on his hip and her new puppy stumbles out the door. It’s a cute little black lab mix with paws that suggest he’s going to be a big dog. His ears are huge, too. Poppy giggles as he trips over his own feet and face-plants into the grass before he squats to relieve himself. Colt had told me that he was already partially trained but that he’s still had a few accidents in the house. I can’t imagine having a toddleranda puppy at the same time. It sounds like double the work but of course, Colt doesn’t seem to mind.

“He’s a silly puppy, isn’t he?” Colt asks Poppy.

I want to rush to his arms and kiss the dickens out of him and then tug Poppy out of his arms and play with her. I’ve never wanted to play with babies or kids before but the urge right now is almost overwhelming. I grab the gift bag off the passenger seat and take a deep breath, willing myself to relax. I’ve built up tonight in my head, hoping that it’s the beginning of everything and I don’t want to be disappointed if I’m wrong.

“Hi, ladies! Come on in.”

As I’m brushing by Colt, he reaches out and squeezes my hand. I pause on the step and look up at him. There’s heat in his eyes and unspoken words said.

I want to kiss you.

I want that, too.

I missed you.

So bad it drove me crazy all day.

When we step inside, Mom looks around nervously. Colt steps back outside and calls, “Maverick, come!”

It takes a minute, but Maverick comes running back inside the house.

“You both look beautiful. I’m feeling like a slob,” he tells us, looking a little sheepish.

He actually looks good enough to eat in his worn jeans that are riding low on his hips and a gray Carhartt pocket t-shirt that hugs his biceps, but I keep that to myself.

At least I hope I did.

A quick look between Mom and Colt tells me my secret is safe.

“Have a seat. Can I get you something to drink? I have fresh sun tea made, plenty of milk, water, something stronger, perhaps?”

With a practiced hand, he opens the fridge door while still holding Poppy. She swings around like it’s normal business to be held while he’s working.

“Iced tea sounds great,” I say.

“Same for me, thanks, Colt.”

“Three iced teas, coming up. And what about you, Tootsie Pop? Want to have some refreshing water with your meal? Or would you like a bottle?”

“Baba!”

My mom gasps. “She knows those things already?”

Colt grins while pouring our drinks. “Nah. She just likes to say baba after I say bottle. I guess shecouldknow how to make her own choices at this age, but I’m pretty sure she just repeats things and gets a kick out of it when I seem impressed.”

Mom laughs. “She’s smart.”

“Yeah, she is,” Colt replies. “Probably too smart for her own good. Before Natalie died she was starting to say things like bye bye and no, and Nat said that it was normal. She has a few words she uses often. Go, which is usually her way of saying she wants to go see the animals. It’s kind of crazy how quickly she’s forming words and learning new things.”

“When Layla started talking, she never stopped,” Mom says, giggling. “It was like she’d been holding all these things in and felt like she was late to the party so she had to keep talking in case she forgot how.”

Colt smiles and winks at me. “Sounds about right.”

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