I was sitting out on the front porch swing and enjoying my coffee and Mrs. Weaton’s biscotti the morning of my birthday. She made it with salted caramel chunks. It was pretty spectacular.
Joey was due home later, having started coming home every other Saturday when his schedule allowed it, and today was no exception. He’d decided I needed a birthday party, which I’d vehemently opposed, refusing to change my shift schedule at the grill. Now it was happening anyway, and Brenda was coming in so I could clock out early and join the festivities at my house.
I pulled my sweater a little tighter around my body against the chilled breeze that had swept over the island, just as a sleek dark car pulled into the driveway and purred to a stop under the Live Oaks.
Colt had taken to coming over when Joey was home, although he never usually arrived so early. I couldn’t help smiling when the door to his midnight blue BMW opened and several brightly colored balloons erupted out of the car and floated up into the Spanish moss-draped branches.
“Shit!” I heard, followed by several grunts. A pair of legs emerged, and finally Colt’s body fought through the rainbow. “Sorry,” he said, clutching the rest of the strings tightly in his fist, wrestling the bunch into submission. “I guess I lost a few.”
My smile broke into laughter at the devastated look on his handsome face.
“Happy birthday,” he said sheepishly. He leaned back into the car with his other hand and brought out a huge bouquet of white lilies. Oh. I kept the smile plastered to my face and tried not to let my nervousness show at his romantic birthday gifts.
Taking a deep breath, I left my spot on the swing and came down to meet him. “Thank you,” I said, reaching for the flowers. “They’re beautiful. Let’s get them in water. You want some coffee?”
He gave me a rueful smile and tugged the front of his hair. “Yeah, that would be great.”
Inside, I poured us both some coffee and placed the flowers in the sink filled with water while I hunted out a vase. I couldn’t remember the last time I used one. Colt tied the balloons to a kitchen chair and trotted back outside to bring in a bunch of beer and drinks he’d brought for the party.
“Is there anything I can help with today,” he asked, coming back in and setting the boxes down on the counter.
I put the beer away in the fridge. “No, I think we’re good. I have to finish up a bunch of tuition grant applications as they’re due this week.”
“Oh yeah. How did the meeting at SCAD go?”
I swallowed guiltily. Colt had asked me to text him when I was in Savannah to meet him for coffee. I hadn’t.
First of all, the meeting Faith had somehow swung with the Dean of the School of Design had gone on longer than planned. Second, I was with Vern, and third, and frankly, more importantly, I was trying to avoid giving Colt even a hint that I might be interested in him. “It went great, but ran really long. Sorry I didn’t text you, I was with Vern, and we had to get back.” I smiled nervously.
He nodded and busied himself with the boxes. It was weird seeing the ex-Butler Cove High School QB looking less sure of himself than I remembered. I studied his handsome, sweet face and really wished I were attracted to him. He had shown himself to be thoughtful, funny, and a really good friend over the last two months. He made me happy. He made me laugh. What was wrong with me? Was it still too soon, or was it that Jack Eversea was a fire that burned brighter than the sun, and I’d been seared beyond repair?
I walked over and laid a hand on the soft grey sweater covering Colt’s forearm. “I’m sorry, Colt. Thank you for being a good friend.”
He winced. “I just want you to be happy, Keri Ann.” Turning, he wrapped his big bear arms around me, and I sank into his comfortable embrace.
There was no chemistry. None. Surely he could tell that, too? I didn’t really understand how these things worked. I felt him give me a warm kiss on my hair and smiled. “I know, and thank you.”
Grabbing our coffees we settled at the kitchen table, and I filled him in on my progress with trying to get into school. Faith had become like a fairy godmother, helping me, guiding me, advising me, and pushing me to put myself out there. We were both hoping I would be able to get one of the tuition scholarships SCAD offered. I was applying for state and private funds, too.
Being able to prove I was already selling pieces would go a long way toward getting a grant. Also the fact I’d been selected by the Picture This gallery in Hilton Head as a featured regional artist coming up in December, again with a wave of Faith’s magic wand I was sure, would all be a part of my application.