Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115683 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 578(@200wpm)___ 463(@250wpm)___ 386(@300wpm)
Lifting my head, I cut him a look.
“What?” He smirks.
“You know what. You’re trying to—well, you know.” Get me riled up again.
Colt lifts his shoulder. “Can you blame me? You know I like it in the mornings.”
“Like what?” Dean asks from his perch on the floor, where he’s been playing with a car-themed LEGO set while watching the movie.
“Coffee,” Colt says.
“Snuggles,” I say at the same time.
Dean ignores us, turning back to his LEGO set.
Later, we drive over to the stables. I’m saving my new pair of Bellamy Brooks boots for the Rattler tonight. Frisky Whiskey agreed to do a doubleheader for the holiday season, so they’re playing Friday and Saturday nights this weekend. I can’t wait to see them again.
I am, however, wearing the new pair of Ariat boots Colt and Dean gifted me for the holidays. They really are perfect for riding—they’re comfortable and warm, and they can take a beating.
Dean taught me how to tack up, so I go about my business brushing down Cream Puff before settling the saddle pad and saddle on his back.
I don’t miss the proud gleam in Colt’s eyes as he checks my handiwork. “You’re gettin’ good at this, Fort Worth.”
“I’m a fast learner.”
“So I’ve discovered.” He leans in to kiss me.
Dean rolls his eyes as he passes by. “Ugh, seriously, Dad, you’re always kissing her. Why?”
“Because I can.” Colt kisses me again, this time tilting his head a little. “Because I like to.”
“Whatever.”
“Remember where we left Lainey’s present in the tack room?” Colt asks, keeping his eyes locked on mine.
I blink. “My present?”
“Your present!” Dean claps his hands. “I’ll be right back!”
Looking at Colt, I tilt my head. “What did you do?”
“Something you’re gonna like.” His eyes flick to my mouth.
My body lights up. I keep wondering when I’m gonna get sick of this man. When I’ll get used to how often, how well, he touches me.
“You really have to stop with all the presents.”
He scoffs. “Honey, I ain’t ever gonna stop. You’re fun to shop for.”
“You’re fun to f—”
“Lainey! Lainey Lainey Lainey, oh my goodness, you’re gonna love this!” Dean comes galloping toward us with a cowboy hat in his hand. “Dad got it for you! It’s white! Do you love it?”
He holds out the hat to me.
My vision blurs. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Colt takes the hat from his son and puts it on my head. He smiles. “You’re a cowgirl now, remember? And cowgirls gotta look the part.”
“They wear the hat,” Dean says.
Colt’s lips twitch. “They ride the—”
“Horse,” I finish for him, reaching up to touch the brim. “Y’all, this is beautiful!”
Colt nods. “You look cute in a Stetson.”
I reach up to touch his brim. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”
“And what about me?” Dean crosses his arms. “I thought I was always the cutest?”
“Always,” Colton says.
“The handsomest too,” I say.
Colt frowns. “Ouch.”
“Truth hurts, Dad,” Dean says crisply. “Let’s get moving, guys. I’m not getting any younger here.”
Shaking his head, Colton laughs. Then he helps me up onto the saddle, and we head out into the glorious winter day.
Billie throws up her arms when she sees us walk into the Rattler later that night.
“Y’all came!” She wraps me in a hug before moving to Colton.
He gives her a squeeze. “Of course we did.”
“I thought for sure y’all were gonna, you know, disappear on us again.”
I blush. Colton cuts me a knowing look. We were supposed to meet up with the Wallace siblings earlier this week for an impromptu bonfire at Beck’s place. Paige offered to babysit Dean, so Colt and I threw on our jackets and hopped in his pickup truck.
Thing is we never actually left his truck. Instead, we parked by the pole barn for old times’ sake and hooked up in the back seat. We may or may not have also made use of the handcuffs Colt now keeps in his glove box.
It was a good time. But yeah, we didn’t make it to the bonfire.
“Sorry about that,” I say.
But Billie just laughs, waving me away as she slips a hand into Ryder’s back pocket. “Don’t be. I’m happy for y’all.”
Ryder and Colt hug it out too. No trace of awkwardness.
“I’m happy for you too,” I whisper in Billie’s ear.
“Heard that,” Ryder says, hugging me. “Thank you, Lainey. Means a lot.”
We head for the bar, where Mack and Tate are throwing back shots of tequila. Nash is over by the stage, talking to some people I don’t recognize.
“Where’s Beck?” Colt asks, reading my mind.
Sipping his beer, Ryder glances over his shoulder. “Last I saw him, he was—yup, over by the mechanical bull.”
“Tallulah, you still have that thing?” Colt asks.
The bartender shrugs as she drops a wedge of lime into a waiting glass. “Long as people like it, it stays.”
“I like it,” I say.
Colt wraps his hand around my nape. “I’d like to watch you ride.”