Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 96112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96112 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 384(@250wpm)___ 320(@300wpm)
I had to make sure.
Colt and Lucas exchanged a frown of confusion.
“We’ve told you we like the color,” Lucas replied slowly. “Are you sure nothing is wrong? You’ve seemed more uncomfortable the past few days.”
Uncomfortable? Me? Never. It was only my middle name.
“It’s just a big change,” I lied outright. I had no excuse. “I would feel better if you helped me with this decision. I want you to want the color.”
Colt shifted his weight from one foot to the other and tilted his head. He was studying me, and I didn’t like it. Where Lucas prodded gently and waited for me to be ready to be honest, even when he knew something was up, Colt struck like a rattlesnake. No, wait. Like a viper. He didn’t wait around. He pushed.
I stuck my tongue out at him and forced a smirk into place.
He narrowed his eyes.
Energy crackled between us, and it was heady. It was…it was something. It was a battle. Like chess or…something else. I couldn’t put a finger on it, but I loved the challenge and the strategy. His move, my move, his move.
After a moment, he straightened and glanced up at the wall, then down at the paint he’d placed on a stool. “I would’ve chosen this color,” he said with a nod.
That was his move? He wasn’t going to push?
Sweet. I must be getting better.
“Yes, it’s a lovely color,” Lucas agreed. “It will look great, Kit.”
Colt handed over the paint roller to Lucas. “Y’all can start. I gotta call River about something.”
Lucas cocked a brow. “Care to share?”
“Just…something about the event. I wanna make some changes.”
That was sudden. Though, he did play an integral part in the planning, and he was probably thinking about The Games a lot as the event got closer. Lucas had said they’d put hundreds of hours into the preparations.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” I said to Lucas. “We can start, and then he can fix our mistakes.”
Lucas chuckled.
Colt smirked. “Kid ain’t wrong.”
* * *
Much of the frustration and the growing unease left me momentarily a couple hours later when we ended up having a good time.
Colt was in a great mood, and it showed that he loved to do things himself. He was a fixer.
Lucas was good with a smaller paintbrush, so he followed Colt and painted the spots the roller was too big for, like right by the baseboards and up by the crown molding.
I was the DJ, the snack-getter, and Colt’s personal ladder-holder. Keeping the ladder steady also gave me the best view of his ass in those jeans.
The only downside was standing in the splash zone. I had dots of paint all over my tee, face, and arms, and Colt thought it was too funny.
“Darlin’, we gotta take Kit fishin’ sometime,” he said, bobbing his head to the beat of the song. To no one’s surprise, it was country, and it was about huntin’ and fishin’.
Lucas scratched his neck and squinted. “I really feel that’s more of a you thing.”
“I agree,” I said with a straight face. “Daddy, you can go fishing alone.”
Lucas laughed. “Kit and I are city boys.”
“For life,” I replied with a grin.
Colt shook his head at us. “Y’all don’t know the peace of gettin’ up at four and lookin’ out over the lake and the mornin’ mist.”
“And you don’t know what peace is,” Lucas muttered under his breath.
I snickered.
Wanting to mess with our country boy, I changed the music and immediately earned myself a groan from Lucas, who apparently knew the song.
“This is even worse than country, sweetheart,” he said, appalled.
“What the fresh hell is this rapin’ my ears?” Colt exclaimed.
I pretended to love it and got into the beat, making sure I shook the ladder a bit too. And then…oh, I had to do it. Abel and I had goofed off to this song…how many times? I’d almost forgotten. I had to do the dance.
I raised the volume and started shaking my butt as I waited for the chorus. “Don’t you love it?” I yelled over the music. “Embrace the Gangnam Style, Texas kiddo!” I took a few steps back and bobbed my head, and when the chorus began, I jumped into the silly dance Abel and I had practiced until we were pros.
When I saw the guys’ reactions, I remembered how much I used to love being a clown. Colt was standing on the ladder, and he was watching me with amusement dancing in his eyes, and Lucas was retrieving his phone, his shoulders shaking with laughter.
I yanked off my tee and twirled it in the air as I did the dance again.
Lucas was either taking a hundred pictures, or he was filming me. Regardless, I felt it was vital that I gave it my all. Close to cracking the hell up at myself, I took goofball to the extreme and exaggerated every move. I spun around and moved my hips to the beat.