Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32717 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Colt’s tongue slides along my upper lip, causing me to shut down my brain and feel, really let myself go. That's probably why, when his thumb slides against my cheek, the warmth from the palm of his hand and the way he grips my neck with his fingers are all I need. My hands move to his chest, I give chase with my tongue, and he takes it deeper. It isn’t until a clatter of noise coming from the kitchen that Colt ends the kiss. “You good, Nellie?” He keeps his gaze locked on mine.
“Yeah, dropped the paint brushes.” She sounds annoyed with herself, and my ears perk right up with hearing what I’m assuming will be the next art and craft she’s about to do.
“We should probably get out there.” His words aren’t exactly convincing as he licks his lips and the hand not holding my face goes to my hip, giving it a firm squeeze. It’s when he slides his hand lower, causing a delicious shiver to skate down my spine, that my core heats with desire.
“Yeah, it might be for the best. You never know where paint can land. In your hair, on the floor, or on the walls, which are usually where they get the brunt of the colorful stuff.”
“I’m assuming you’re speaking from experience.” I guess we’ve yet to go into detail about our lives, well, his I’m able to see right in front of me. My career is a bit off the beaten path.
“Mural artist.” I raise my hand and give him a little finger wave. “That’s why I’m here in Whispering Oaks, the historical society hired me to do a few paintings in the downtown area.”
“No shit. That’s cool as hell. Nellie’s gonna freak and probably attempt to ask to help you.” It’s not every day you meet someone who thinks your job is actually a career. I usually get the ‘Oh, you’re one of those artsy types,’ to which I roll my eyes and move along.
“She’s more than welcome to come and watch. I can’t promise she’ll be allowed to paint, but I’m sure I can sneak a little something for her when no one is looking.” We hear the pitter-patter of feet and slowly disentangle from each other.
“I’ll be sure to let her know. Now, are you hungry? Because we’ve got maybe ten minutes until someone else goes from happy-go-lucky to a hangry hippo.” Colt’s lip tips to the side, well aware that while his back is to the door, he knows Nellie’s at the entrance.
“Hey, I heard that. Aunt Kara says you're worse.” Colt spins around and picks Nellie up with ease. She kicks her feet in the air, tosses her head back, lets out a loud belly laugh, and then they’re walking out of her bedroom. I follow their lead, smiling and laughing.
“Your aunt is going to get her butt kicked,” I hear him tell her, doubtful he’ll make good on his so-called threat.
“I am hungry, though.”
“Knew that. Come on. You and Sable can sit at the bar while I cook for you ladies this evening.” Colt plops Nellie on a stool, and I sit down beside her.
“Are you sure we can’t help?” I offer.
“Nope. Pretty simple dinner tonight. Lasagna, salad, and bread. I should have asked if you’re allergic to anything.” He looks up with an oh fuck expression on his face.
“Nope, no food allergies. Dinner sounds delicious. Maybe Nellie and I can set the table when the time comes.” Sitting down and not helping feels criminal.
“That you can do. You also didn’t need to bring dessert. Thank you all the same.”
“Yes, thank you. Daddy can cook…” Nellie pauses before she continues with her sentence, “but his baking is… umm…”
“Not so good?” I suggest.
“Terrible. He mixes up the sugar and salt. A lot.” Colt reminds me of Rafe with his demeanor and being teased.
“Well, then, I’m glad I could be of service. There’s a bit of everything. You’ll have to tell me what your favorites are for next time.” I’m about to wince thinking I may have just put my foot in my mouth.
“Anything that’s sweet, my girl loves.” I breathe a sigh of relief at Colt’s response.
“Daddy’s the same way.” Nellie gets down from her spot, moves to the mess on the floor, and rifles through a few pieces of paper before finding what she’s after. “Want to paint?” She brings back two notebooks and watercolor, one of my favorites to do when I need to recharge my system.
“I’d love to.” We settle in, and when Colt tells her about my job and what I’m going to be doing, Nellie’s face lights up. I’m already forming a plan on how to include her in the process.
11
Colt
“Next time, I’ll make sure Pipsqueak is with my parents or Kara,” I tell Sable as I help her out of the truck hours later, well past Nellie’s bedtime, as I push my luck to spend more time with her. Tomorrow morning is going to suck—waking her up, getting her to school, and working at the shop all day.