Page 15 of Bolt To Me
She stared at him for a beat, then gestured down at herself in her black leggings, and faded Dallas Cowboys hoodie with a thumb-sized hole in the sleeve. Her hair was pulled into a messy knot that had given up on pretending to be purposeful. “I’m wearing leggings and a hoodie with a hole in it,” she replied flatly.
His smile didn’t waver. “You’ve always had a natural glow.”
Carli arched an eyebrow. “Are you here to woo me with word salad?” she asked in boredom.
He chuckled, an elegant, rehearsed sound that somehow managed to avoid sincerity entirely. “I came to talk,” he said, lowering his voice as though they were surrounded by paparazzi. “Somewhere more private?”
She stared at him, one hand braced on the doorframe. “You drove up to the ranch I’m currently living on with a man you hate and think privacy is an option?”
The answer to that question arrived before he could formulate one. The screen door of the main house swung open with an easy creak, and Cory stepped out like the final reveal in a western standoff. He was barefoot, shirtless, and holding a wrench in one oil-streaked hand, a rag in the other. There was a faint smear of grease along the hard plane of his forearm, and his hair was damp with either sweat or a quick rinse from the outdoor spigot. His eyes, squinting briefly against the glare, locked on Thomas in a heartbeat.
Cory didn’t move at first. He just stood there on the porch, expression unreadable, before one brow lifted in slow, deliberate recognition. And then the grin appeared. Lazy, knowing, just shy of a challenge. “Well,” Cory drawled, stretching the word like taffy, “if it ain’t the groom formerly known as.”
Thomas’s jaw twitched. “Hayes.”
Cory gave a casual nod, stepping closer, his weight leaning against the porch railing beside Carli. “Just fixin’ the tractor,” he said easily. “Thought I’d swing by and check on the lady of the house.”
The shift in the air was immediate, that primal, unspoken sort of energy that didn’t need translating. Carli could feel it radiating off both of them: Cory, loose and dangerous like a lion in sunlight, Thomas rigid and coiled like a spring wound tootight. The moment seemed to hum between them, invisible wires sparking in the heat. It was absurd like two cocks about to fight, literally and figuratively. And it was… uncomfortably hot.
Thomas’s gaze slid briefly to Cory, then back to her. “I’m not here to fight,” he said, raising the bouquet slightly. “I just thought we could talk. Closure.”
Carli took the flowers and glanced at them briefly. It was an expensive, orderly arrangement of lilies and roses that smelled faintly of perfume counters and climate-controlled delivery vans. Thomas knew she hated roses, and the only lilies she liked were tiger lilies that grew on the side of the road. Without a flicker of hesitation, she walked two steps to the left and deposited them directly into the empty cooler by the door. “Closure received.”
She didn’t even look at him as she said it. Cory did, though. He looked at Thomas and let out a short, sharp laugh that carried all the way to the fence line.
Thomas blinked at her, visibly recalculating. “Carli, I know things got complicated. Emotions were high. You left me at the altar.”
“Correct,” she said brightly, almost cheerfully, like she was confirming a dinner reservation.
“I just… I think we owe it to ourselves to have one honest conversation. Face-to-face.”
Before she could respond, Cory leaned against the doorframe, voice so calm it was almost lazy. “Funny. She and I had a pretty honest conversation last night.”
Her head snapped toward him. Oh no. He did not. She elbowed him sharply in the ribs, but he didn’t even flinch.
Thomas’s expression darkened, the polished smoothness cracking just enough to reveal the grit underneath. “Of course,” Thomas said tightly. “Right into another relationship.”
“It’s not a rebound,” Carli said, her chin lifting without conscious thought. “It’s a restart.”
He gave a sharp, humorless laugh. “You always were dramatic.”
“And you always were beige. And vanilla. And not even Blue Bell Vanilla at that. More like…Great Value Vanilla.”
Cory barked out a laugh so sudden and loud that it startled a bird from the nearby oak.
Thomas’s mouth pressed into a line. “I’m going to go,” he said finally, adjusting his collar like he needed to reset his entire spine. “But for what it’s worth, I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.”
She met his gaze head-on, calm and steady. “I already did.”
He didn’t answer. Just turned, walking with military precision back to the Mercedes.
Cory stepped up behind her, not just close but deliberately so, his arms winding loosely around her waist in a way that was casual on the surface but marked territory as effectively as any ranch brand.
“God,” he murmured low into her ear, voice warm and dangerous, “you were hot just now.”
Her lips curved. “Was I too much?”
He pressed his mouth briefly to the side of her head. “Just enough.”
