Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 31300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 31300 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 157(@200wpm)___ 125(@250wpm)___ 104(@300wpm)
“I’m—”
“I’m not done. I mean, look at you. City boy—you drive a Mercedes! You go to brunch on Sundays. You’ve got a two-hundred-dollar haircut. You listen to Bruce Springsteen like some—”
“I’m pretty sure southerners like him too.”
Colt huffed in frustration and glared. “Does nothing ever rattle you?”
I side-eyed him. Oh…he was trying to rile me up again? Precious boy. I supposed wisdom didn’t always come with age.
I grabbed his hand and kissed his knuckles. “My haircut was fifty dollars, I’ll have you know, and I told you I’m from Bethesda, yes?”
“Yeah?” He frowned. “Fake southerner.”
I withheld my laughter and released his hand. “Or perhaps not a southerner at all?”
“Right, but people keep saying Virginia’s the South.”
Oh, bless. Hey, there was a southern phrase I’d grown up with. My mother came from Tennessee after all. That said… “Bethesda is in Maryland.”
“Oh.” Colt cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest. “Did not know that.”
I laughed silently, fearing he might actually blow if he heard me.
“Look on the bright side,” I said, “there’s even more for you to teach me. For instance, what exactly is a hoedown?”
“Now you’re just fuckin’ with me,” he grumbled.
“Not at all,” I lied. “Teach me, Captain. What is a hoedown?”
I felt his narrowed-eyed look more than saw it.
“No. Fuck that. You’re bein’ all smug,” he said and turned away. Like a child.
I sighed and smiled to myself.
I was smitten.
After about an hour on the road, Colt suggested we stop for coffee.
Darkness had fallen, and we were in the middle of nowhere. Perhaps he wanted to stall too. Either way, I was happy to play along, so I took the next exit that had a truck stop. There was a gas station with a crappy-looking diner attached to it, as well as a Chick-fil-A that was closed.
“You stay here,” Colt said, leaving the car. “I’ll get us coffee and some donuts.”
I was halfway out of the car, so I looked at him quizzically.
“More privacy out here,” he elaborated. “There’re picnic tables over there if you wanna sit outside.”
I glanced over at a semi-wooded area and the three picnic tables that sat on a small lawn. A single light cast a faint glow over the place.
“All right.” I closed the door behind me and locked up.
Colt returned within a couple minutes, and he was on his phone. We sat down at one of the tables. It was a muggy night, leaving a mist around the light next to us.
He handed me my to-go cup. “I’m listenin’! You said—” He sighed. “No, ma’am. I’m not givin’ you attitude.”
I grinned and removed the lid to my coffee, and I blew some steam off the hot beverage. I was willing to bet he was talking to his mother.
“Yes, ma’am, I’m stayin’ safe.”
“Adorable,” I mouthed.
He rolled his eyes and flipped me off.
“Okay,” he said. “We can talk about this soon, though. I’ll be there in an hour and some change.” He wrapped up the call shortly after, and he looked like he’d just suffered half an eternity. “I’m thirty-six years old, I’ve voted in every election, I drink, and I’ve been to war. But around that woman, I’m always seven.”
I chuckled and took a sip of my coffee. “It’s supposed to be that way.” The subtle sweetness of sugar mingled with the strong coffee, and I couldn’t help but ask if Colt had done something.
His brows knit together. “Two sugars, right? I thought for sure I saw—”
“You did.” I smiled. My chest constricted weirdly.
“Messed up, if you ask me,” he went on casually and stuck a hand into the brown paper bag. “If you take sugar in your coffee, you can’t have a donut.”
“Says who?” I laughed.
“My mama.” He winked. “Jelly or regular glaze?”
“Jelly, please.”
“One jelly donut comin’ up.” He handed one over to me, then sucked powdered sugar off his thumb. “By the way, a hoedown is what I holler when I throw you down on the bed.”
I blinked with my donut in midair.
Colt cracked up.
Did the cocky jackass just call me a ho?
“Your face,” he wheezed through his laughter.
Amusement trickled in, and I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was just so out-of-this-world handsome and sexy. Eyes alight, crinkling at the corners.
“Shut up and eat your donut,” I chuckled, shaking my head. Then I got fucking jelly on my T-shirt. Scratch that, on Colt’s T-shirt. “Look what you made me do, asshole.”
Good lord, I had powdered sugar everywhere too.
Colt found that too funny as well. “Keep it. It’ll give me a reason to visit when I come home.”
“This has to be one special tee if you’re coming all the way to DC for it in a year.”
He shrugged and chewed on a mouthful of donut. “I guess your fuckable ass is a second reason.”
“Please, don’t inflate my ego. I can’t take it,” I deadpanned. “I swear—” How frustrating. If he’d been a sub… “I wish I could make you choke on my cock. You arrogant prick.”