Page 21 of Sweet and Wild

“Something you need, Lemonade?” Colt’s sleep-rough voice scares me and I drop the blanket and scramble out of bed, thankful he didn’t undress me.

“Why am I here?”

“You tell me. You’re the one who was out lookin’ for me last night.”

I remember the whiskey and the longing for him, feeling like I needed Colt for the world to seem right again. In the twelve years that I’ve been gone, the ache to have him close burned so deep that some nights seemed to stretch on forever. In a city filled to bursting with people, in a bed draped in the finest silk sheets, I’d never felt so alone. I’d thought about him a lot. I was just too far from home and too stubborn to do anything about it. “I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t cause no harm. I kept you here because I didn’t want you waking Mama up.”

I quit my perusing the cabin for my boots and whip my head around to face him. Colt’s on his side, elbow propped on the pillows as he leans his head on his palm and tracks my every move. “Do you always call her Mama?”

“You know what she’s like. I wouldn’t dare go against Mama Winchester.” His brow creases and he throws off the covers, giving me another show of all of that glorious muscle and the sizable bulge in his boxers. He sits up and climbs out of bed. “It really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

For a moment, I think he’s talking about his giant erection. But the tone is all wrong and when I snap my gaze to his, there’s no humor in those gray eyes.

I shake my head, but we both know I’m lying.

“How ’bout I stick to ma’am from now on?”

“No. It’s fine.”

“That look on your face don’t say fine.”

“It just threw me, is all.”

“Why? You know I’ve called her that since my own mama died.”

A pang of regret hits my heart.Poor Colt. Here I am getting my panties in a twist about what he calls my mama, and I forgot he no longer has one to call his own. “I know. Please don’t stop on my account. It’s just … waking up here, in your arms, everything’s coming back to me and it’s a lot to deal with. Especially after Daddy’s funeral.”

He grimaces and pulls on his jeans. “I get it. This is a lot for me too.”

“Right. Well, I better get out of your hair and back to the house.”

“Yeah, we don’t want people talkin’, now do we?”

A nervous laugh slips free of my throat. “No. We can’t have that.” I finally spot my boots over by the door and walk the few feet before leaning against the wall to slip them on. “Well, thanks again for … you know, just being you.”

“Anytime.”

“And I’m real sorry I ruined your night.”

He scratches at the five o’clock shadow on his face. “I don’t know if I’d call it ruined. Laying my head down next to a pretty redhead, ain’t exactly my idea of a night ruined.”

“I suppose it depends on who the redhead is, now doesn’t it?”

“Yes, ma’am, I guess it does.”

“I’ll see you at breakfast?”

“If you wanna wait while I shower, I can drive you back over.”

“That’s okay. I should go change too. I can only imagine my brothers’ faces when they see me walk in with yesterday’s clothes.”

“Well, alright then.” He nods and turns his back to me, heading toward the bathroom. I can’t help but watch him from the doorway—the thick corded muscles of his arms and shoulders as he walks into the tiny bathroom and strips off his jeans and boxers. And I know he knows I’m still here, so that last part was solely for my benefit. A thought that’s confirmed when he turns his head and winks before leaning over to turn on the faucet.

I slink out of the cabin and close the door, leaning my forehead against the hard wood as I breathe, trying to resist the urge to join him under the hot spray and give our bodies what they’ve been missing all this time.

“Lemon Winchester?”

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