He fell silent again and I was almost sure he wouldn’t tell me anything about his life, but he surprised me when he said, “Dad was from Dornoch, a really tiny town in Scotland. Left home at seventeen.”
I shook my head. “Wow. Seventeen. He was still a kid.”
“Not him. He grew up tough.” He shrugged. “Anyway. He bought an old Harley when he got over here and decided to see the country. He was passing through Waco and met my mom.”
“Yeah?” I was completely riveted by Colt’s story.
Colt smiled. “Dad claimed he accidentally wandered into a cowboy bar. Mom was with her friend. Mom’s friend asked Dad to dance. Dad said yes but couldn’t take his eyes off Mom. When he was done dancing with her friend, he came back to where Mom was sitting and asked her if she wanted to get on the back of his Harley. They were together from that moment on.” He flipped the steaks. “He started the Blue Angels in Waco. Mom helped, actually. She grew up in Coeur d’Alene in biker culture. My dad liked the idea of living…freer.”
“Coeur d’Alene? My mom lived there briefly before moving back home to Waco and having me.”
“Small world,” he murmured.
“Small indeed.”
I thought he was done sharing, but I was wrong when he said, “She died when I was seventeen. Joni was thirteen at the time.”
“And your dad?”
“Lung cancer. Two years later, he was gone.” He shook his head. “When he got sick, he passed the gavel to his VP. Buddy was a good president, but he didn’t really want it. He knew he was just holding the title until I was old enough to lead. But after my dad died, I couldn’t stand to be here, so I left Waco and fucked around in Scotland.”
“Drinking?”
“Yeah.”
“Women?”
Colt sighed. “Yeah.”
“Fighting?”
He shrugged. “I’ve always been big for my age. I was never a bully. Some people need protecting. I like to protect. Sometimes that means using my fists.”
“You came back though. Why?” I asked.
“Joni. She needed me more than I needed to drink, fuck, and fight my way through Scotland.” He grinned in wry humor. “My head wasn’t screwed on straight, but she was just a kid. Fifteen without a mom or a dad. Realized I was being a selfish asshole leaving her with the club while I tried to get my own shit straight.”
I remembered when I was fifteen. Hormones, a teenager without a mom. Joni hadn’t had either of her parents. I’d at least had Grammie.
Colt pulled the steaks off the grill and set them on a clean cutting board. “Dinner’s ready.”
I hopped up and went to the sliding door and opened it for him since his hands were full. He brought the cutting board to the table, served us both, and then we sat down to eat. I couldn’t remember the last home cooked meal I’d shared with another person.
“How’s the steak? Cooked okay?” he asked.
“It’s perfect.”
“Not too bloody?”
I grinned. “Just bloody enough.”
“Your turn.” He reached for his beer bottle and took a sip.
“My turn what?”
“I told you about me. Now you tell me about you.”
I frowned in confusion. “You actually want to know about that kind of stuff?”