Page 27 of Colt

Colt

Switching off the engine of the SUV, I leaned back and scrubbed a hand over my face.

I’d fucked-up.

Was running from Freya the day before my finest moment? Hell no, but it was better than going back into that room, bending her over the couch, and fucking her brains out. But what really drove me crazy was, in the cold light of day, the whole fucking her over the couch thing didn’t seem like such a bad idea.

What did I expect? To stay over? Have a morning cuddle before we made coffee and ate breakfast while reading the morning paper?

I’d holed up in my hotel room and worked all day and into the night. It wasn’t until the next afternoon when I raised my head and decided I needed to get out for a while. I drove to the mall, then went to the nearest burger joint before picking up a few things and returning to my hotel.

And here I was.

My eyes slashed to all the fucking bags beside me on the passenger seat.

Even when I tried to escape Freya, she ensconced herself in my head. Every time I bought something, subconsciously, I had her in mind.

Finally, I’d given up the ghost and headed to Nordstrom. I wandered into the ladies' designer department and bought a pair of black, red-soled, high-heeled pumps, cock hardening knee-high boots, and a large calfskin tote, allLouboutin.Then I bought the biggest bottle of Coco Chanel I could find, along with matching body spray, soap, and shower gel.

Fuck my life.

Now, instead of running for the hills away from Freya, all my mind could conjure up was the sexy little princess wearing those boots for me with a see-through black bra and nothing else.

I gently banged the back of my skull against the headrest a few times.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

It went without saying I was confused as fuck. Freya had somehow gotten into my head, and the fucker of it was, I liked her being there. There was more to our friendship than just...well... friendship. What that was, remained to be seen.

Reaching to grab the bags, I threw my door open, exited the car, and slammed the door shut. As I beeped the locks, I heard footsteps crunching on gravel from behind.

Whirling around, I saw a tall, dark-haired, suited man approaching and let out a curse. A low growl escaped my chest, and I stopped dead. “What the fuck do you want now? Didn’t I tell you to fuck off? Do I need to get an injunction?”

He raised both hands defensively, a cocky grin splitting his face. “Is that any way to greet an old Army buddy? Just came to say howdy, Colt. See how you’re doin’.”

I looked up at the heavens, asking God,why the fuck me? The last thing I needed was the goddamned fucking FBI sniffing around.

“Thought we could go for a drink,” he suggested. “Catch up. See if you’ve been in contact with any of the boys from the unit.”

My gut burned.

I reached into my inside pocket and pulled out my antacids. “Thought I made it clear I didn’t wanna talk on the three thousand occasions your stalker ass called my cell. See what you fuckin’ do to me, Shepherd?” I said, throwing a small tab into my mouth. “You give me goddamned heartburn.”

“You must be allergic to somethin’,” he said with a nonchalant wave. “You always were pretty sickly, even when we served together.”

“Yeah, I’m allergic to fuckin’ FBI who get all up in my grill. You’re what makes me goddamned sick. Get it over with. What do you fuckin’ want?”

“Just to go for a drink, Colt. Have a little chat. We need to discuss what we’re gonna do about you digging into places you shouldn’t be.”

My gut dropped into my ass.

Fuck.

“You here to take me in?” I asked, tone low.

He shook his head. “No. If I was, you know it wouldn’t go down like this. We’d lock up all your MC brothers, including the hot little president’s daughter. Just little incentive for you to keep an open mind.” His lips thinned. “Be warned, that could still be an option if you don’t give me a meet.”

My chest tightened.

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