Cowboys of the Flint Hills: The Graces: Books 7-9

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

Holy s**t. Colt ran a hand through his hair and stared up at the wooden slats comprising the ceiling in the tack room, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. How long had it been since they’d snuck into the barn? Fifteen-minutes? Maybe? And in that short span of time, she’d managed to shove his whole world off its axis.

She must have been intoxicated.

It was the only explanation for why she’d come onto him like that. Not that he’d minded. Hell, if it had been any other woman, his pants would have been down around his ankles in a hot second. But this was Lydia. The embodiment of goodness. Everything he wasn’t. His c**k jerked against his jeans chastising him for his restraint. “Yeah, yeah. I’m an idiot.” He shook his head and let out a ragged sigh.

As long as he lived, he’d never forget the way her creamy skin glowed in the moonlight. And how slick her p***y had been. For him. And f**k, her kisses. He’d never been more surprised, or turned on. But he was pretty sure if word got out, that there’d be a long line of folks lined up to take their shot. It wouldn’t matter to them in the least that she’d been the one to come onto him. All they’d see was that the town’s biggest disappointment had tapped the good girl everyone loved and respected.

Colt puffed his cheeks and let out another slow breath, trying to pull his galloping heart back to a walk. He smiled bitterly into the dark. This. This was why he never wasted time being honorable. It sucked. So much easier to live in the moment, screw the consequences, and move on before things got emotional.

He lived by one rule – no regrets.

Okay, yeah, he definitely regretted pushing Lydia away. But he’d regret the consequences of not pushing her away more. He might live for fun, but he wasn’t an i***t. Everyone in town knew why Travis kicked him out ten years ago. And although wild horses couldn’t have dragged the admission from him then, he was mature enough now to see that Travis had done him a favor. Probably saved his life. One of many conversations he and his brother needed to have in the coming days. But not on his wedding day.

Giving the tack room one last look, he turned and made his way back to the bonfire. He scanned the faces halfheartedly. Lydia wouldn’t be among them. Go after her his conscience pricked. Talk to her. Someone put a whiskey in his hand. The party was breaking up, and he made his way back to the house, pulling up a chair to the large table that had been returned to the center of the room. Conversation floated around him as one by one, Travis and Elaine’s closest friends joined them at the table. Colt didn’t feel like joining in. He was more interested in the contents of his glass, but he also wasn’t going to be rude to his brother on his wedding day. As he swirled the ice and amber liquid, his mind kept returning to Lydia. The curve of her hip in the palm of his hand. Her sweet, plump mouth. He was an i***t for letting her go. He was a bigger i***t for wanting more. He was a f*****g rodeo champion, for chrissakes. Women slipped their hotel keys and more into his shirt pocket when they congratulated him with a wink and a smile on a good ride. He’d never wanted more, needed more, from any of them.

It irked him that she thought he was easy. Lydia had been the only one to see through his shenanigans, the only one brave enough, or stupid enough as he thought back then, to challenge him to be a better person. A better man. Hell, he’d only been a kid when he left, but he was a better man now. Wasn’t he? He owned a ranch. Had a great career. Discovered he was a smart businessman. Okay, so he still might be a little wild where the ladies were concerned, but who could blame him?

Why would Lydia want a quick hookup? That wasn’t her. He puzzled on that as he brought the whiskey to his mouth, letting the burn sharpen his focus. Prairie’s new police chief, Weston Tucker, who Travis had introduced as a former military buddy, was talking. “Have you given anymore thought to Resolution Ranch?”

“What’s this?” Brodie Sinclaire asked. Brodie was a few years older than Colton, but had been just as wild in their youth. He’d been surprised to learn Brodie had been married nearly a year.

“Nothing.” Travis waved a hand. “Just a harebrained idea of Weston’s to get the ranch running again and turn it into a place to help veterans land on their feet.”

“Using animal husbandry, like what Hope does, and working with a counselor I know,” added Weston.

Hope Hansen leaned in. She’d married Ben Sinclaire at the same time last year. “You know,” she said, tapping a finger on the table and glancing over at Ben. “I’ve been thinking along those same lines. Using what I’ve been teaching you with others. Would you be interested in collaborating?”

While not the only single guy in Prairie by a long shot, Colton’s insides twisted with the realization that life in Prairie had continued without him. Yes, he’d walked away without a backward glance, and with the exception of Hope’s brothers, who he’d run into at the NFR’s in Las Vegas a few years back, he hadn’t seen or heard from any of them. Again, his conscience pricked at him. Would things be different, would he be different if he’d tried to re-establish contact once he’d cleaned up his act? Would people see him in a more positive light? Would Lydia see him in a more positive light?

His thoughts flicked back to the conversation at hand. His brother really wanted to start a ranch for veterans? An honorable idea. A good idea. He knew a few rodeo hands who’d served overseas. Solid guys, who struggled. The ones that found a purpose upon returning home seemed to do better. The guys he knew were some of the best horse handlers on the circuit.

Colton stared at the enthusiastic faces surrounding the table. How long had it been since he’d been a part of something bigger than himself? Had he ever? He studied the ice in his glass, focusing on the way it caught the light. An ache pushed against his ribs. He’d been looking out for number one his whole life. Had never lifted a finger around the ranch. Had driven his dad, then later Travis to distraction with his bad grades and substance a***e. “I’d be willing to invest a portion of my earnings,” he offered quietly.

Conversation stopped as everyone turned to stare. He locked gazes with his brother as they engaged in a silent tug-of-war.

Travis shook his head dismissively. “No way. I can’t let you do that.” All eyes swung to Travis, then landed back on him as the silent volley continued. Travis cleared his throat. “I appreciate the offer. But you only just got home. I don’t even know how long you’re staying.”

He didn’t know either. He was on a day to day basis at the moment, at least until the NFRs in a few more weeks. “Silent partner only. I’ll stay out of the way.” Colton countered firmly.

Travis’s expression went from chagrined to doubtful to hopeful when his wife chimed in. “You know I can help with managing the books, among other things.”

Colton’s heart gave a painful squeeze at the way they stared at each other, love on their faces. He shut his eyes against the thickening in his throat. No one, not one person, had ever looked at him that way. With adoration. He pushed aside the momentary longing. He had everything he needed, a roof over his head, money in the bank, fame. There was no place in his life for touchy-feely s**t. It only complicated things. He lifted his glass with the others as Weston offered a toast. “To Elaine and Travis, may your love infuse this ranch with new life, and bring second chances to those who need it most.”

Second chances. Is that why he’d returned to Prairie? For a second chance? He wasn’t sure he liked the murky feelings it stirred up. Colton pushed back from the table a little too forcefully as soon as the bride and groom kissed. “I think it’s time for me to head out.”

Travis made a face. “You only just got here.”

“Stay with us,” “We have room,” a chorus of offers sounded.

Heat raced up his spine. This was too much. Everyone was being too nice. He waved them off, flashing a smile. “No need. I booked a place in Manhattan.”

“Jamey’d tan my hide if I didn’t insist you stay at the lodge with us,” Brodie offered. “Manhattan’s too far.”

Colton shook his head. He didn’t feel like making small talk, and he’d had enough swapping stories of the old days to last him a good long while. “Thanks, kindly. But I’ll take a raincheck.”

“You’re coming back tomorrow?” Travis asked, the hopeful look returning to his eyes.

Colton nodded once. “Sure. We’ll talk then.”