Page 94 of Need You
Chapter Sixteen
When Delaney woke up Colt was gone. She looked over at her bedside clock. Ten-thirty and, based on the drizzle of sunshine streaming through the spaces between the drapes, already a scorcher. She grabbed a robe from the back of her closet door and padded into the hallway, hoping to smell fresh coffee brewing. No such luck.
He must’ve gone home for breakfast, or more sleep, and disappointment kicked her in the chest.Stop being needy, she told herself. But the night had been so wondrously perfect that she didn’t want it to end. They’d had sex twice more, each time better than the last. Colt Garner knew his way around a woman’s body, not to mention that he had the stamina of a bull. She supposed it was all that kayaking, climbing, and skiing. The one criticism she had was that she never knew what he was thinking. He’d been complimentary enough—telling her that she was beautiful or that he liked this or that—but when it came to any real emotions, he was a brick wall. Impenetrable. Frustrating because she couldn’t get a read on the guy. Was their morning together just sex or the start of something real?
She went into her studio and peeked behind the shade. His truck was parked where he’d left it and his squad car sat at the top of his driveway. Unless someone had picked him up or he’d gone for a run—which she knew he did a lot—he had to be home. She considered calling him and asking if he wanted to have coffee on the deck. Too clingy, she decided.
He’s the one who left, therefore it’s up to him to make the next move, Delaney told herself. She went downstairs, started a pot of coffee, and showered while it brewed, planning to spend her day sketching. At least it would keep her mind off Colt.
She brought a pad with her into the kitchen and doodled while she waited for her bread to toast. Crazy, but she had an idea for a fleece turtleneck with thumbholes to keep the sleeves down and stretch panels on the arms for extra flexibility. She’d seen something similar while researching cargo pants and thought she could improve the design, make it a little splashier. Evidently the shirt was for hiking or bouldering, whatever the heck that was.
A weird idea had recently formed in her head—to fill her creative void with a few adventure wear designs that would at least keep what few investors she had and the fashion press at bay. She could say that living in Glory Junction had inspired her to do a fun line of athletic clothing. Hell, if Vera Wang could do bedsheets, why couldn’t she do sports attire? She could beta test the pieces with Garner Adventure.
By four, she’d finished a few promising drawings and was just about to work on the patterns when the phone rang. Her pulse quickened until she saw it was Hannah.
“Hi,” she answered, wondering if Hannah knew about her and Colt, then mentally chiding herself for being ridiculous. How could she possibly know unless Colt went blabbing, which was patently absurd. The man was about as close lipped as an underworld spy.
“Want to meet us at the diner for an early supper?”
“Sure.” It would be good to get out of the house, get some exercise and fresh air. “Do I have time to walk?”
“Absolutely. We’ll meet you there at five.”
She changed out of her shorts into a pair of leggings and a linen tunic from her summer collection, slipped on a pair of flats, and shoved her sketch pad into one of her oversized Delaney Scott handbags. On her way out, she checked the driveway again. Colt still hadn’t moved his truck. Maybe he was catching up on his sleep.
She walked to the restaurant, glad that the festivities from the End-of-Summer events were over and that the tourists were on their way home. The town got a little cramped with all those people, though she supposed it was a boon for local businesses. As she strolled down Main Street, she ran into Boden.
“Good show last night, huh?”
“Fantastic,” she said. “You have a lot of cleanup?”
“We got most of it done last night, so not too bad. Is Colt recovered?” He’d evidentially seen them leave the bar together.
“I don’t know.” Delaney looked away, hoping she hadn’t turned red.
“The guy works too hard, needs to let loose every once in a while.”
Oh, he’d let pretty loose, all right. “Mm-hmm. I’m meeting friends at the diner so I better get going. Have a good evening.”
“See you, Delaney.”
She was the first to arrive at the Morning Glory and got a table for four, not sure if Deb and Foster were joining them. Felix, the owner, waved to her from the kitchen window, and for the first time Delaney felt like a bona fide local. She hadn’t realized it until now but she’d always seen herself as a vacationer, albeit one who had come to hibernate for the winter and had never left. But somehow she’d become part of the community to the point where people recognized her beyond being “that famous fashion designer.” In fact, her professional success had become a footnote instead of her entire identity, which she rather liked.
“Hey, sorry I’m late.” Hannah sounded out of breath. “I got a customer who wanted to buy out the store five minutes before closing. I shoved the cash register in the safe, locked up, and ran the half block. Deb and Foster aren’t here yet?”
“Just me . . . and now you. So sales are good, huh?”
“End-of-Summer packs ’em in and we made a killing. It starts all over again in November, especially if we get snow. I’m certainly not complaining. What’s going on with you? Colt get you home okay?”
Delaney could feel her face flush and she grabbed a glass of water, hoping to extinguish any tell. “Yep. All good.” She reached in her bag for her drawings to redirect the conversation. “What do you think of these?” Delaney flipped the pages.
“I want one of these.” Deb came up behind Delaney’s chair and pointed to the fleece turtleneck. “I love it, especially in stripes. I’ve never seen a rock-climbing shirt like that. Foster can’t come; he’s dealing with another bridezilla.”
Hannah took the pad and examined Delaney’s drawings. “Wow, you’re going in a totally different direction.”
“Those are just for fun . . . a placeholder until I get my groove back. Besides, lots of designers have a sideline, something different from their usual bag of tricks.”
“I like it,” Hannah said. “Josh wears this stuff all the time and it’s dull as dirt. Yours has pizazz.”
