Surrender To Sultry (19 page)

“Our parents could’ve helped out while—”

“I didn’t want that for Noah.”

“
You
didn’t want that? What about me?” Colt pointed to the iPad, where Noah smiled at
them beneath a mop of black hair. “That boy’s half mine. Who were you to decide all
this without asking how I felt? You took my child and gave him to strangers and then
you kept it a secret for—” Fire flashed behind his gaze, his voice cutting sharper
than a razor blade. “That’s why you stayed gone so long. So I couldn’t get my boy
back from his so-called
parents
.” Colt stood and demanded, “What’re their names?”

“They’re not bad people—”

“Their names!” he shouted.

Leah cringed beneath the weight of Colt’s fury and tried to soften him. “Jim and Diane
Ackerman. They’re good parents, I swear. I’ll introduce you and explain everything.
I’m sure they’ll let you meet Noah.”

Colt’s countenance transformed into an eerie calm that made the hair on her arms stand
on end. “Oh, will they?” he asked, smooth as cream. “How generous of them to let me
see my own son, especially after they adopted him illegally.”

“It’s not like that,” she insisted. “I lied to them too. I told them I didn’t know
who the father was.”

“Did they run a notice in all the newspapers here?” Colt asked, his voice deceptively
placid. “Did they at least try to find me, or did they hurry up and hire some shyster
to push the adoption through?”

She could see where this was headed, and she had to stop him from disrupting Noah’s
life. “They’re Noah’s parents and he loves them.”

“We’re his parents.”

“Listen, please.” She wanted to run to her bedroom and hide under the covers, but
she stood and faced Colt, squaring her shoulders even though she felt naked and two
feet tall. “What I did was wrong, and I’m sorry. Sorrier than you’ll ever know. But
don’t punish Noah because you’re mad at me. You can’t do anything to—”

“Don’t you dare,” he said, colder and harder than winter steel, “tell me what I can’t
do.” He reached into his back pocket and retrieved his wallet, then began fishing
through it, pulling out credit cards and scraps of paper. “You took my child and gave
him away when he could’ve lived with family. I never got to hold him or hear his first
words.” Colt used his wallet to point to Noah’s image on the iPad. “Or watch him get
on the bus for the first day of kindergarten, or teach him how to throw a football.
You got to see all of it, but I missed everything, and I can’t ever get it back. It’s
like you stole a whole other life from me.” For a moment, his anger faded and he pinned
her in place with a wounded look. “I didn’t think you were capable of anything so
heartless. All these years I loved you because you were the finest person I knew.”
He shook his head sadly. “I didn’t know you at all.”

“I kept telling you I’m no angel.” The words sounded flippant, and she regretted them
the instant they left her lips.

“Well, you sure showed me, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever. It doesn’t matter.” He found what he’d been searching for in his wallet
and tossed it onto the coffee table beside her bouquet of daisies. It was her driver’s
license, the one he’d confiscated all those weeks ago. “I’m not sure what I’m gonna
do about this, but either way, my decision won’t involve you. Since you didn’t bother
involving me, it only seems fitting. So feel free to go back to Minnesota whenever
you damn well please.” He stalked to the front door and left her with two words before
walking out of her life. “Good riddance.”

Colt awoke the next morning with a mouthful of rancid cotton and a jackhammer battering
away at his temples. He squinted against the sunlight streaming through his window
shade, cringing when his skull throbbed in tandem with his stomach. Every little sound
rattled his brain, the whoosh of forced air through the ceiling vents louder than
an ocean’s roar. He pressed the heels of his hands over his scratchy eyes in an effort
to block out the stimuli. God damn, he couldn’t drink like he used to. When had he
turned into such a lightweight?

Once he adjusted to the harsh light, he turned his head on the pillow and glanced
at his nightstand, where a half-empty bottle of Jack Daniels distorted the alarm clock’s
red glow. He shoved the bottle aside and struck an object with a faint
clink
. Propping on one elbow, Colt peered closer to investigate and immediately wished
he hadn’t. Because for a few fleeting seconds, he’d managed to forget the reason he’d
taken a bottle to bed in the first place. Mocking him from atop the snooze button
was Leah’s ring, the one he’d never given her. The one he’d traded his Harley for.
The one hiding a big, ugly black spot beneath a facade of gleaming platinum.

How fucking appropriate.

He still couldn’t believe it. The girl he’d called his angel for the last decade—whose
deceptively innocent face had haunted him night and day—was a liar and a thief. What
she’d done trumped the crimes committed by every slimy bastard currently taking up
residence in the county lockup, because she’d stolen something that couldn’t be returned.
Unlike a car or a box of tools or a flat screen television, she couldn’t give back
the years he’d missed with his son.

Christ. He had a son.

He couldn’t believe that either. The kid looked just like him—the living spit of himself
at that age, his blue-green eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief, his black hair
scraggly and a few inches too long, a gap between his two front teeth wide enough
to hold a Tic Tac. If he’d passed that kid on the street, he would’ve assumed a rogue
scientist had cloned him. No wonder Leah had moved to Minnesota. It was the last place
Colt would visit and spot the boy, though he should probably remedy that soon. A quick
scan of the database last night had turned up the Ackermans’ street address. He could
drop in on the happy little family whenever he pleased, but at the same time, he didn’t
want to scare the boy by showing up on his doorstep. Colt had tried calling Granddaddy
for advice, but couldn’t reach him in Oklahoma. He wondered if he should lawyer up
now, just in case Leah had already called her co-conspirators to warn them. Or was
that overreacting?

Hell, he didn’t know what to do.

But since he was already late for work, he dragged his aching ass out of bed and shuffled
to the bathroom, figuring a warm shower would clear his head. But while the steam
soothed the throbbing between his temples, it did nothing to alleviate his confusion
or to expel thoughts of Leah. He couldn’t stop replaying their night together, especially
the sound of his name spilling from her parted lips and the clench of her tight silky
walls around him. By the time he shut off the water and grabbed his towel, his johnson
was hotter and harder than asphalt in July. Damn it, he still wanted her, even after
the awful shit she’d done. He hated himself for his weakness. Hated her too.

Reminders of her lingered throughout the house—the deflated balloons drooping in every
corner of the living room, the crumpled prom banner he’d torn from the ceiling, the
wooden chair where he’d pulled her into his lap and made her come twice with only
his fingers. Colt found himself rushing though his morning routine in an effort to
escape Leah’s ghost.

During his drive to work, he cranked up George Strait on the radio and sang “All My
Ex’s Live in Texas” at the top of his lungs. Just when he’d gone five minutes without
thinking about Leah, Colt strode into the station lobby and noticed an angel atop
the old artificial Christmas tree, her hands pressed together in prayer, blue eyes
turned toward the heavens, waves of blond hair rippling to her waist.

A bubble of rage burst inside his chest, and he locked eyes with the nearest deputy,
who happened to be Horace. Colt barked, “Have one of the boys take that thing down!”

The old guy cocked a brow. “What? The tree?”

“No, damn it!” Colt pointed at the topper. “The angel. I told y’all about keeping
it secular in here!”

Horace tipped back his hat, clearly confused. “I thought you changed your mind.”

“Well, I’m changin’ it back.”

Without another glance at the cursed tree, Colt turned and stalked down the hall toward
his office. Darla met him halfway there, her eyes brightening when she saw him.

“Congratulations!” She threw her arms around his neck and pressed her giant tits against
his chest in a tight hug.

He pushed free, in no mood for another of her advances. “What the hell for?”

She smiled and bounced in place, making the buttons on her sweater beg for mercy.
“I saw Greg Cowan at the gas station filling up your old Harley, and he told me the
news!”

Colt froze while his stomach dropped. “What news?”

“That you and Leah are getting married, silly.”

Oh, shit. It hadn’t occurred to him that Greg might spill the beans. By now, half
the town was probably abuzz with news of the impending nuptials. And he knew firsthand
that shutting down a rumor took a hell of a lot more work than starting one. He’d
be fielding questions about his broken engagement until
next
Christmas.

“I wasn’t gonna say anything,” Darla continued, “but I noticed how happy you’ve been
since Leah came back to town.” She winked. “You know what they say about the preacher’s
daughter…”

“We’re not engaged,” he told her. “So you can keep—”

“Oh!” She clapped a hand over her cherry-red lips. “You haven’t popped the question
yet. Don’t worry, boss. I won’t spoil the surprise.” Then she patted him on the shoulder
and sashayed to the reception desk.

Son of a bitch. It was only nine o’clock, and already this day couldn’t get any worse.

Colt hid inside his office for the next couple of hours and let his calls go to voice
mail while he Googled adoption laws in Minnesota and Texas. He stumbled across a ruling
that overturned an adoption in favor of the biological father, but the child in that
case was only fourteen months old. Colt didn’t know his son’s birthday, but the boy
had to be nine, maybe ten. The best Colt could hope for at this point was visitation
rights. He’d have to file a motion, and for that, he was definitely going to need
a lawyer.

Three quick knocks sounded from his door before Bobbi Lewis poked her red head inside
and said, “I just heard the news! Ohmygod, I’m so excited for you!”

Colt hung his head and groaned. He couldn’t take much more of this. “Who told you?”

“I heard it from June, who heard it from Luke, who heard it from—”

“Never mind,” Colt interrupted. “It doesn’t matter. Just come in and shut the door
behind you.”

Bobbi’s smile fell. “What’s wrong? Trouble in paradise already?”

More like trouble in hell. “Just shut the door. I don’t want this getting around.”

She stepped inside and slung her laptop bag over the back of his guest chair, then
took a seat on the edge of his desk. “Talk to me.”

So he did. He told her everything, starting with the proposal that never happened
and ending with the news that he had a son who belonged to strangers. Bobbi listened
passively the whole time, never betraying any emotion. Loyal as she was to him, he
expected her to rage against Leah or at least call her a few choice names, but she
didn’t.

“Well, they’re not strangers,” she finally said when he’d finished unloading. “Not
to that little boy. They’re his mom and dad, and you’re the stranger. I know that
hurts, but it’s the truth, and you need to remember it before you go off half-cocked
and do something stupid.”

Colt drew back, offended. He’d just learned that his flesh and blood had been snatched
out from under him, and Bobbi made
him
sound like the villain. “I have the right to know my own son.”

“Of course you do,” Bobbi said. “But there’s a right way to get to know him, and threatening
the stability of his family isn’t it.”

“
I’m
his family.” Why couldn’t she see that?

Bobbi shook her head. “Family’s about more than DNA. I know firsthand.” She dropped
her gaze to the tips of her ankle boots, warning him the conversation was about to
get heavy. “My mom abandoned Luke and took me with her when she left, but she did
a shit job of raising me. It wasn’t until she OD’d and two
strangers
adopted me that I knew what a real family was. Now I can’t imagine my life without
my dads in it. I’m not saying you would’ve done a shitty job too—”

“Good,” he interjected. “Because I would’ve manned up, but Leah never gave me the
chance.”

Bobbi offered him a sympathetic grin. “I know. I’m just trying to say that what’s
done is done. You have to think about what’s best for the child.”

What’s best for the child
. Colt was really friggin’ sick of hearing that. Why did everyone else get to decide
what was best for his son? He was the father. Why didn’t he get a say?

“For what it’s worth,” Bobbi said, “I wouldn’t judge Leah too harshly.”

“It’s not worth shit, so save it.”

She flashed a palm. “Fine. But I want you to see something real quick, then I’ll leave
you alone.”

Bobbi unzipped her bag and pulled out her laptop, then situated it on the desk in
front of him. Leaning over his shoulder, she clicked and tapped through several files
until she found some old footage of him from the
Sex
in
the
Sticks
project. When she hit the play button, he recognized the scene instantly. It was
from Trey Lewis’s farewell party at the church fellowship hall, right before he shipped
out to Dubai. It was also the night Barbara Lee had run Colt down in the church parking
lot.

“
Got
something
to
say
to
the
camera
,” Bobbi said from the computer speakers. Her hair was shorter then, but otherwise
she looked exactly the same. “
You’re the last one
.”

Even though the footage was only two years old, Colt seemed so much younger in his
short-sleeved deputy shirt, leaning back in his chair with both arms folded behind
his head. He still had that cocky, easygoing look in his eyes, the one he’d lost after
the accident. He smirked and told Bobbi, “
I’ve got somethin’ to say to both of you
.”

“
Both
of
who?”

“
You
and
Lewis
.”

Bobbi turned away from the camera and gazed off into the distance, probably at Trey.
She was clearly sprung for the guy. Colt had seen it from day one.

“Yeah
,” Colt said, “
you
got
it
bad
.”

Bobbi shrugged. “
I’ll live
.”

“
No, you won’t
.” Colt leaned forward and rested his forearms on his knees, his expression hardening.
“
You’ll survive, but you won’t live. Trust me, there’s a difference
.”

“Look.” Bobbi paused the footage and pointed at Colt’s image: his eyes unfocused as
he stared at the floor, his mouth pressed into a line. “I remember how miserable you
were back then.”

Not much had changed. He was miserable now.

“I’m not saying what Leah did was right, because it wasn’t.” Bobbi closed the file
and his image disappeared from the screen. “She should’ve told you about the baby
as soon as she found out she was pregnant. But she was just a kid, Colt. I’m sure
you did a few things at that age you regret.”

“Nothing like that.” His drinking and whoring and stealing had never hurt anyone.
Not long-term, anyway. “I was stupid, but I wasn’t cruel.”

“You still love her.” It wasn’t a question, and he didn’t deny it. Bobbi rested her
hand near the top of his shoulder and gave a light squeeze. “I want to see you happy.
Why not try and forgive her?”

Why not? Because that would defeat the purpose. The reason he’d fallen in love with
Leah in the first place was because she had the purest heart on earth. She was good,
all the way down to her soul. Or so he thought. Now she was no different from any
other woman in town.

Another rap of knuckles sounded from the door, this time soft and timid—a knock with
an apology behind it. Colt knew who was on the other side of that oak barrier, and
his chest constricted in a mingling of dread and anticipation.

Just as he expected, Leah stepped inside, wearing her Vikings sweatshirt over jeans,
hair pulled back in a sloppy ponytail. Her puffy, red-rimmed eyes widened when she
spotted Bobbi sitting on his desk with her hand resting on his shoulder. Colt realized
how it must look, but he didn’t care. Let her think the worst. Let her cry some more.
Why should he be the only one to feel like his heart was about to explode?

Leah lowered her gaze to the tile. “I’ve been trying to call you all morning, but
I keep getting your voice mail.”

“Mmm-hmm,” he replied flatly, making no effort to move Bobbi’s hand. “There’s a reason
for that.”

Bobbi scooted off the desk and stuffed her laptop inside her bag. “I’m gonna head
out and let you two talk.” She told Colt, “Remember what I said,” and then gave Leah
a consoling hug on her way out.

Traitor.

“Is she the only one who knows?” Leah asked after the door shut.

“For now.” But that wouldn’t last long. “Why? Worried about your reputation?”

She ignored his question and sank into the chair opposite him, keeping her gaze fixed
on her folded hands. “On my way over here, three people stopped and congratulated
me on our engagement.” She peeked up. “I don’t get what that’s all about, but I thought
you should know.”