Page 25 of Home to You
“Anyone I know?”
Far as I knew, Colt wasn’t seeing anyone. Hadn’t been seen with anyone in a long while. But given he was in the same clothes he’d been in yesterday, I didn’t think he’d slept here. So, where had he been? And with who?
His grip on the spatula tightened, and his stance shifted slightly, the muscle in his jaw ticking. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I blew out a breath and set my mug down with a quiet clink, resting my hip against the counter. “I know, but I think maybe you should. You’ve been carrying something for a while now, and you’re not as good at hiding it as you think. Something’s bothering you, Colt … has been for a long while now.”
Colt flushed, a faint red rising up his neck. “Just drop it, Jake.” He reached for the plate and slid the last pancake onto the stack without meeting my eyes. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t act fine,” I said, my voice dropping low.
He was the opposite of fine, that much was clear, but I let him shut down this line of conversation. If my brother wasn’t ready to talk, I wasn’t going to force it. Pushing would only make him dig his heels in deeper.
He turned back to the griddle. “Cole’s out in the barn, by the way. He’s feeding Bandit.”
“Appreciate it,” I muttered into my mug.
He shot me a sideways glance. “Since we’re all up in each other’s business this morning, I assume Eden’s still here?”
Given what he’d told me last night about how he’d warned her off, I didn’t answer right away. I let the silence stretch between us, just long enough to make a point.
Colt huffed. “Look, I’m not judging. Just surprised is all.”
“We talked things out. We’re together.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “Look, I get why you’re worried. But she’s not going anywhere, and neither am I. We’re doing this right this time.”
Colt grunted. “You sure that’s a good idea?” He gave me another long look as he gathered up the dirty mixing bowl and spatula and moved to the sink.
Thankfully, the sound of footsteps coming down the stairs saved me from having to explain myself further.
Eden appeared in the kitchen doorway wearing one of my flannel shirts and the black leggings she’d arrived in last night, her hair piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She rubbed one eye with the back of her hand.
Colt turned at the sound of her footsteps, a dish towel slung over one shoulder. “Morning, Eden,” he said evenly.
Eden blinked like she hadn’t expected to see him there, then quickly recovered with a small smile. “Good morning, Colt.”
She crossed to the counter, and I handed her my cup of coffee. She took it gratefully, hands brushing mine as she wrapped them around the warm mug.
“You’re a saint among men, Jake Mercer,” she murmured appreciatively.
Colt dried his hands on the dish towel and turned to face us, leaning back against the counter. “I made pancakes. You hungry?”
“Starving,” Eden said, her eyes bouncing to me, a question burning in her gaze.
Colt cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to him. “Look, I know I was a little blunt yesterday.”
Eden’s brows lifted just slightly.
“I was out of line,” he continued. “I didn’t mean to make you feel unwelcome. I was just?—”
“Looking out for your family,” she finished for him, setting down her mug and nodding, her fingers finding mine and squeezing gently. “I get it. If the roles were reversed, I probably would’ve done the same.” Eden’s gaze moved from Colt to me, then down to where our hands were linked. “I know what’s atstake this time, and there’s no way I’m going to screw it up again.”
Colt was quiet for a long moment, his knuckles white where he gripped the edge of the sink. When he finally looked up, there was something raw in his expression. “Yeah,” he said quietly, giving her a single, short nod. “I know what that's like.” He cleared his throat and turned back to the dishes. “We all make mistakes we can't take back.”
The back door slammed and Cole thundered in, his boots clomping across the tile and his cheeks pink from the morning chill.
“Bandit’s water was frozen! I had to—” He stopped dead when he spotted Eden by the counter, his mouth falling open.
“Miss James? What are you doing here?” His head swiveled between us, his eyes growing wide. “Wait … did you sleep over?”
