Keep It Together

chapter Four

Colt paced the hotel room from one end to the other. The alarm clock on the nightstand read nine forty-five. The watch on his wrist read nine forty-seven. His cell phone was several minutes ahead of that. He wasn’t sure which one of them was correct. All he knew was that he was supposed to meet her in less than fifteen minutes, and those minutes were taking a god-awful long time to arrive.

He’d been waiting months for this. Just one night, just one dinner. Then another and another. Until she accepted his yes.

Russ was the last man an independent woman like Chrissie needed, and in all honesty, Chrissie was the last woman an up-and-coming, life-of-the-party lawyer like Russ needed. Colt, though? Yeah, he was the man she needed. He couldn’t help his idiot brother, but he could help himself and the woman he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.

He’d never pined for a woman, and he wasn’t sure if that’s what he was doing with her. There were more women throwing themselves at him than he knew what to do with. He wanted Chrissie throwing herself at him; he’d be damn sure to catch her. He’d told her he wanted to kiss her at her engagement party, and that was the truth. He’d have stood by and watched her and his brother get married, and he’d have never said a word if that was the way things had turned out. He’d have probably found someone else down the road even, but when Russ called him that Saturday morning to tell him he was in Vegas, married to a dancer stage-named Tinsel, inside Colt had been torn between disappointment in Russ, sadness for the pain and heartache Chrissie was about to go through, and elation at what he hoped was a positive turn in his personal life.

He’d spent a lot of time beating himself up for feeling that way, but she deserved better, and he was better. He’d even dated several women, or tried, but he never was able to get the image of red-rimmed brown eyes and tangled blonde hair out of his head.

Six months had seemed an appropriate amount of time to wait. Chrissie had taken the news of his conversations with her father better than he’d expected she would. He’d figured she’d be mad or upset at least that he was keeping tabs on her, but other than surprised, she seemed okay with it, touched even. His concern for her was sincere, and his interest in her was genuine.

His watched beeped at him. Nine fifty-five. He grabbed his wallet and room key off the hotel room desk. He didn’t want to be late and he would make sure he never was. She’d been left at the altar, and he couldn’t imagine what that was like for her or for anyone. It had to be incredibly devastating to wait like that, wondering and worrying and then finally realizing he wasn’t coming. Colt didn’t want to make her wait for him. She asked him, challenged him to prove that he was different, and his persistence in offering the dinner invitation was one way he would. Another was being on time or even early.

The elevator touched down on the lobby level, and he made his way outside the cavernous room to the front of the hotel. He could have gone out the back way on the river side but decided casual and leisurely was the way to handle this, rather than looking like a kid about to hit a candy store for the first time in his life. The night was warm, but as he walked along Factors Walk toward the cobblestone stairway that would lead to river level, a slight breeze caught hold to make the humidity more manageable. There weren’t many people out walking at this time of night, but several of the bars were full of people.

He settled on a bench seat and kept an eye out for Chrissie. He didn’t have to wait long. At five after ten, he saw her coming toward him from the same cobblestone entrance he’d used. Her blonde hair bounced against her shoulders, and she smiled when she saw him. She was dressed in jeans, what looked to be very sensible sneakers, and a green polo shirt, and as she got closer, he could read the name of the store on it.

“You’re here,” she said, stopping in front of him. She sounded surprised, but the smile on her face was full of happiness, relief.

“I am. You said ten.”

“You don’t have anything to prove to me, you know. I was teasing earlier, back at the house.”

“Be that as it may, I’m still here on time, and that’s important to me.“ He wouldn’t go into the details with her of all his thoughts from when he was upstairs wearing a hole in the carpet of his suite. She only needed to know she was important to him. “So, what are you in the mood for?”

“A beer and shrimp.”

A beer girl? Holy Mother of… Could she get any hotter? “Sounds good. You lead the way.”

And she did. Chrissie started off toward a small bar sitting on the corner she’d just come around. She looked as good from behind as she did from the front, and he couldn’t keep from noticing the way her hips swayed and the twitch of her ass with each step she took. She’d gained a little since he saw her in December, but damn, she wore it well. She was beautiful, sexy enough to make his mouth taste like cotton, and she likely didn’t even know it. The small stud earrings and the lack of makeup only added to her appeal for him. He could just eat her alive, he was so taken with her.

Now that he could spend some time with her, had made the move to see her again instead of just fantasizing about her, every thought he’d had for the last six months seemed to come rushing forward.

He wanted his hands on her.

“You coming with me or staying outside? ’Cause if you’re staying, and you’re buying, I’m gonna need your credit card.”

Colt laughed at her flirtatious wink and the smile she threw over her shoulder at him. “No way am I giving you my card.” Yet. If things turned out the way he was hoping they would, he’d hand over anything she wanted. “You go get a seat, and I’ll get a couple of beers. What do you like?”

“Whatever at this point. Surprise me. It was a busy night.”

Colt watched her wind her way through the crowd until she disappeared into it. He caught sight of her again as she headed out to the terrace.

“What can I get you?” the bartender shouted over the noise.

Colt returned his attention to the bar. “You carry anything local?”

“Moon River, yeah.”

“Two.”

“It’s on tap.”

“That’s fine.”

The beers were poured and slid across the bar to him. Colt turned and took the same route through the crowd as Chrissie had. The smell of fried fish, alcohol, the river, summer outside at night, and sweat all mixed together. The noise was near deafening in the middle of the room, but as he got closer to the terrace, it dimmed to a moderate roar, enough to where he could hear himself think.

“You eaten here?” he asked as he sat across from her at a small two-person square table.

“Only once or twice.” She picked up the beer and sucked a little at the foam before swallowing the medium-amber liquid down. “Mmm. The local stuff.”

“Yep. Have you had it before?”

“Yeah. Their brew pub is over on Bay. Good beer, good food. You should try it sometime.”

“Next time I’m in town, I’ll let you take me.”

Chrissie nodded slowly, wary as she studied him, but soon eased back in her chair. “Okay.”

Colt smiled and took a swallow of his own beer. “This is pretty good.” He was the one person in his family who liked beer. Russ and their father preferred bourbon. Amber preferred wine. And Russ’s mother lived on gin and tonic. Colt, though, liked the earthiness of beer, the warm camaraderie it often inspired. He could walk into a bar in any given town, order a beer, and be treated like he was a long-lost friend. One couldn’t do that in wine bars.

“It is. You travel a lot, right?”

“I do. I like to try whatever local flavors in beer or wine or food when I can. Makes the hassle of traveling a little more personal.”

“Does that include women?” She asked it with such a straight face that he wasn’t sure how to answer her without damning himself, for good or ill.

“Now see,” he said around a snort of laughter. “I can’t tell if you’re being curious or snarky.” She shrugged but maintained her casual posture in the chair. She sipped at her beer and stared at him, unblinking and unhurried. Something softened inside him even more. She could hold her own against him and make him sweat.

“Curiously snarky.”

“No, it doesn’t include women. I’m perfectly content to not have a different woman in each city.”

“One-woman man?” The tone of her voice said that surprised her.

“Lately, very much so.” He knew she wasn’t sure of him. Hell, how could she be? She didn’t realize how seriously his brain had taken hold of her innocently made statement, a statement made out of pain and sadness and humiliation. But he wanted her. He wanted to take her to bed. He wanted to keep her there. He wanted to immerse himself in her life, and he wanted to bring her into his.

He took a sip of his beer. “You said you had a busy night?”

“Yeah. It’s not hunting season, but sometimes around here it doesn’t have to be. These people stock up year-round.”

“Do you find it hard to sell to men?”

“I don’t find it hard, no, but I think some of them find it hard to buy from a woman. They don’t seem to believe I know what I’m talking about. They often want to speak to a manager, and when they find out that I am the manager, that I can load and unload, that I can take apart and put together again any gun we have in stock better and faster than they can, they generally listen.”

“You’re a show-off.” He hoped she could hear the pride and admiration in his voice, as the statement it was meant as and not a question for her to defend or justify herself.

“When it comes to something I know, yes.”

The waitress chose that moment to appear beside their table. Chrissie ordered a basket of fried shrimp with a side of fries, and he followed suit. They each ordered more beer, and Colt settled into his seat a little deeper, relaxing with her in a way he hadn’t with a woman in a long time.

“What do you do?” she asked. “For work, I mean. You know I work in an outdoor store, but I don’t know what you do. Russ never talked much about you, other than you being a businessman of some sort.”

“He wasn’t very forthcoming about you either.” Colt had to wonder if Russ had just been going through the motions in his relationship with Chrissie. He didn’t know why that would have been true, but something seemed off in how Russ had handled things. His brother wasn’t stupid nor was he irresponsible. “Oh boy. Now it’s time for me to make you promise not to laugh.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“I’m the CEO of Corners Cookies.” It took a few seconds, but as per the usual reaction of people he told, her eyes widened.

“Corners Cookies? As in the pyramid cookies with the cream in the center and the sprinkles on top? That Corners Cookies? The soft, chewy cookies with the artery-clogging creamy filling? That Corners Cookies? Are you serious?”

Colt nodded, and Chrissie moaned. The sound made his cock jump. Maybe he could cover her in the creamy filling and eat her. “That’s the one.”

“Oh my God. I love those cookies. I have three boxes in my pantry. Chocolate on chocolate. Chocolate with vanilla. Vanilla with chocolate. Russ never said a word about it. Your last name isn’t Corners, though.”

“No. My father owned a company that bought smaller businesses that were headed for bankruptcy. Some were liquidated, some were re-branded, some simply need some fresh capitol and new management strategies that they couldn’t afford to supply on their own.”

“Which one was Corners?”

“In need of money and strategy. It was my favorite cookie growing up, and I couldn’t let them die.”

“Makes sense. Why doesn’t Russ work with you? Amber does, though, right? That’s what Russ said. Damn, I’m a bit selfish for not having asked either of you when I met you what you did or really anything.”

“You had other things on your mind at the two different parties we met at. Your mother throws an incredible party, by the way; however, I do believe my father and his wife threw one just as audacious. I don’t think I saw you sit at either gathering for longer than a couple of minutes. As for why my brother doesn’t work for me, I offered, but he wanted to remain with his law firm. He enjoys what he does too much to be hemmed in by corporate politics. Amber is the CEO of the family holding company. She shares in some of the responsibility of Corners Cookies, but I no longer work the family business. It’s all hers.”

“Russ enjoys being a defense attorney. He loves the research, doing the work himself. He worked so hard all the time.” Chrissie looked toward the river. “He liked to play hard too, I guess.” She looked back at Colt, and whatever shadow might have been in her eyes was gone, replaced with a twinkle of delight. “And you make cookies.”

Colt laughed. “Well, I don’t actually make the cookies, but I do love them. Do you want to know a secret?”

Chrissie eagerly leaned across the table with her arms braced on top. “I’d love to.”

“Now, if you tell anyone, I’ll know, and you’ll be in some serious trouble.”

“What kind of serious trouble?”

“I don’t know yet, but it’ll be trouble, and no one likes to be in trouble.” Chrissie nodded, her mouth twitching at the corners. She was about to burst, but she was doing her best to keep it in. “You are such a brat.” They were at ease with each other, and he couldn’t get over how good it felt just to be around her. He’d been thinking of little else since their kiss earlier in the day. If he’d had the time, he’d have laid her on the floor, set her up on the counter, bent her over the couch, and filled her delectable body with his, but being with her like this? He wanted to get very used to this level of comfort. “We’re going to be adding a chocolate chip pyramid cookie to the line in the fall, and we’re looking into opening physical stores.”

“Chocolate chip cream cookies? Oh, man. I can taste them now. That will be awesome. But why stores?”

She looked like Meg Ryan did in the deli scene of When Harry Met Sally. As though she was on the edge of an orgasm just thinking about the cookies. More and more, he was beginning to think he needed to get her laid. And more and more he was convinced he was the man for the job. “With the success of cupcakes and coffees, food trucks and outdoor shopping areas, and the decline in inside malls, I believe a little Corners Cookie store would be well received.”

“Corporate stores?”

“Mostly, yes. The cookies would be prepared and baked on-site. People love the smell of cookies baking. What better way to pull them in off the street?”

“Uh-huh. And would you, ah…be considering opening a store here in Savannah?”

She looked like the proverbial kid in a candy, or rather, cookie store with her eager smile and bright eyes. Would the rest of the patrons care if he pulled her across the table and had his way with her? God, she turned him on with nothing more than a smile. He was whipped, and she didn’t even know it. “We are. In fact, there’s a small storefront for lease on Congress Street that I’m going to look at tomorrow.”

“I thought you flying down here was because of me.” The playful hurt look on her face, the faux pout was adorable, and he had to squash the urge to lean over and kiss her.

“I was, but the conference call I had earlier had to do with the board’s agreement for me to look into a few properties while I was here. I made some calls to a local Realtor, and she’s meeting me tomorrow morning.”

“Well now. Aren’t you just the man with all the answers and all the plans?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.”

“She’s gonna be a lucky lady.”

It was said so softly and into the mouth of her glass that Colt almost missed the comment. He was beginning to pick up on that little trait of hers. She’d say something soft, under her breath, and mask it with a gesture or action to take away from what she’d said. It was odd, and he wasn’t sure why she did it. However, he was going to make sure he heard her right, each and every time. “What was that?”

“The woman. The one you end up with. She’s going to be lucky to have you.”

“I like to think we both will be.”

“Got any prospects?”

“Mmm. I have one, and she knows who she is. She seems to pretending otherwise about it though.”

She toyed with the rim of her beer glass, running her finger around the edge. “You should put a stop to that.”

“I’m quite certain I should, yes. Do you have any suggestions on how to accomplish that? I’d love to hear whatever insight on the subject you may have.”

“Does she know how you feel?”

“I haven’t been shy about it, but perhaps there’s room for more pointed clarification.”

“For a woman, there’s always room for more pointed clarification.”

“In my defense, I wanted to get a feel for how she felt about me first and if she was ready to move on from a broken relationship. Our connection might seem to some a little odd.”

“The only way you’re going to find out is to tell her. Much as it’s rumored, we women can’t read minds.” On that note, Chrissie finished off her beer in time for the waitress to set the baskets of food and the two fresh beers on the table.

She dug into her shrimp with gusto. Colt liked that. He followed her lead and started in on his as well. “Damn,” he groaned after practically inhaling the third one. “These are fantastic. I’ve never had shrimp this good.”

“The best in the city as far as fried goes.”

“I’ll take your word for it. So”—he swallowed down his bites of fried shrimp, which were incredible as well, and lifted his beer—“you think I should tell her? Everything?” He drank half of it down. The shrimp batter had a little kick at the end, one he wasn’t prepared for.

“Yes, I do.”

Colt pretended to mull it over in the silence that ensued while they ate and finished off their second beers. Only there actually wasn’t any pretending going on in his thoughts. Was she just playing dumb, as though she didn’t know who he was talking about, who she was talking about? He couldn’t imagine she wouldn’t know. She was odd, this woman who’d been on his mind for the better part of a year. He’d even go so far as to say self-deprecating, but he didn’t think even that term fit her. She was bold one second, laughing and teasing with him, and in the next, she was shy and even a little uncertain.

“Gun-shy” might work if it weren’t for the fact that guns seemed to be the last thing in the world she was shy about.

“Stop goofing, woman.” He winked. “You know it’s you.” The innocent look she gave across the table made him chuckle. The hand pressed to her heart in a classic show of Southern shock and surprise…

“What? Me?”

Colt just shook his head. “Really? Shame on you.”

She flashed a cheeky grin. “Spill it, Colt. Say it. I want to hear the words. Spell it out for me.”

He inched forward in his seat. ”You’ll wanna lean in close for this.” He waited while she sized him up, then mimicked his posture.

“Okay. I’m ready. Let me have it.”

And now she was challenging, almost defensive. He might need to invest in a mood ring or two for her. She was a country girl, and there were so many sides and facets to her personality that he was going to have to take notes on what set her off in one way or another. Otherwise, he’d never be able to keep up or even have a chance to catch up. She fascinated him, though from just shaking her hand the first time they met, he couldn’t have known she would. Something clicked for him. “I want you. I want to spend time with you. I want to take you to bed. I want to crawl up your body and bury myself in it so deep I’ll never find my way back out. I want to marry you.”

Her mouth gaped and closed multiple times before something actually came out, and what she said was not what he’d been expecting. But then, so far, nothing she said or did was what he expected. “On his toes” was an understatement. “I’m your brother’s ex,” she said so softly the words barely made a sound.

“I’m your ex’s brother.” The volume of his voice matched hers.

She sat there, a stunned look on her beautiful face, and then grinned from ear to ear. “Touché.” She popped her last shrimp in her mouth and chased it with the rest of her beer. She slammed the glass on the table and raised her arm for their waitress. Colt followed her line of sight and saw the waitress nod.

And just like that, she was back to who she’d been before they embarked on that bit of serious conversation. He didn’t know if what he’d said had made any kind of impact. He couldn’t read her eyes and definitely wouldn’t be able to read her mind even if it were opened to him. Though he wanted to ask what she thought about his rather blatant confession, he was just as content to see where and how things progressed. He was content to simply try and figure her out. “Secret code? Going to get me drunk and have your wicked way with me?”

“Do I have to get you drunk for that? And no. I just wanted another beer.”

“No, you don’t have to get me drunk for anything. I’m all yours.” He was afraid there were no truer words ever spoken.

“All my what? And you know”—her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, and he made sure he was listening real close—“I have had two beers tonight and am about to have one more, so…I’m thinking I probably shouldn’t make that long drive all the way back out to my place.”

Colt sat back and considered the woman sitting across from him. She was laughing and smiling at him and not for the first time, he wondered what in the hell was wrong with his brother. Chrissie was simple, incredible, and full of life. What man wouldn’t want her in his everyday life and in his bed? “Uh-huh. And what do think you should do instead?”

“You could drive me home.”

He nodded as though thinking it over, but there was no way he was doing that. “I could.” She wasn’t going anywhere except up to his room. “Or…you could stay with me.”