Nova
The heart-to-heartwith Colt has stayed in my mind all day. As I sifted through all of his things, wondering how on earth any woman could cheat on that man, I let my mind wander into dangerous territory. If he were mine, I’d never let him out of my sight. The focus of this being my dream house quickly shifts to Colt being a dream man, and I could kick myself for it.
While there’s definitely a tension in the air between us, I can’t bank on the fact that I’m someone he’d even consider. I’m a laborer compared to him. Hell, he hired me for my services. It’s not like I come from a trust fund family. My father was a custodian at the high school. Our backgrounds do not match up, and that alone should be reason enough for me to let my fantasies of wrapping my arms around his thick, corded neck and kissing him senselessly go.
I take a long swig of water, throw the bottle into my purse, and head downstairs. Keyboard strokes click loudly in the dining room. I could just head out, but I figure it’s good form to tell him I’m done for the day. The blue light of his laptop glows against his face, wrinkled with concentration as I tiptoe near. I second guess myself, about to turn around because I don’t want to disturb him. But it’s as if he senses my presence and looks up.
“I’m done for the day, Colt.”
He closes his laptop and rubs his eyes. “I lost track of time.”
“I just wanted to let you know that I’m heading out.”
“I see.” The sentence lingers between us as if there’s an addendum.
I can’t stand awkward silences. They make my pulse race, make me break out in a cold sweat. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” I say, sounding like an idiot. He already knows that!
Colt rises from his seat, causing the chair to skid against the hardwood floor. “I’ll walk you out.” I start to tell him that isn’t necessary, but it’s a moot point. He’s already up and heading toward me. My stomach does flip-flops as he approaches me. Maybe he feels indebted since we shared such intimate details upstairs? But if I’m honest, almost all of my clients end up sharing some sort of intimate details. When you work in the business of death, as I do, it’s par for the course.
We head to my car in silence. I press my lips together to hide my smile, thinking about what it would be like if I were brave enough to take his hand in mine. Would he let me? Would he brush it away?
Realizing now that the man’s probably at least a multi-millionaire makes me cringe looking at my red, piece of shit Honda parked in the driveway. It’s a visual reminder that I’m not the type of woman Colt goes for. Even if his wife wasn’t his ideal partner, I’m sure there are tons of women with better breeding, better families, and better genes than me.
“This is me.” I joke, pointing to my jalopy.
“I was wondering.” He kids back. I let out a goofy laugh and wish I had even the slightest modicum of cool. News flash: I don’t.
I’m about to hop in the driver’s seat when Colt’s voice stops me. “Nova, I just want to say something.”
“Yes,” I flip around too quickly, almost as if anticipating this moment and take it all in. The warm late afternoon sunlight hits Colt like a backlight on a movie set, and I’m awestruck by how truly beautiful he is. The way his hair waves ever so slightly in the front. His warm amber eyes gaze at me like I’m the only person alive. Everything about this man screams sexy. From his destroyed jeans to his designer t-shirt that hugs his muscles perfectly, he’s like a real-life god. I couldn’t have designed a more ideal partner.
He shoves his hands into his jeans, almost like he’s nervous—but God only knows why. Unless…wait, is he nervous? My brain won’t stop!
Colt clears his throat. “I just wanted to say thank you for the talk today.” He licks his full lips, and my panties erupt with wetness. I’ve never wanted anyone so much in my whole life, and of course, I’ll never be able to have him. “It really helped, actually. I never talk about her or about the accident.” He tilts his head to the side, showcasing his prominent jaw. “Hell, I never talk about anything besides work these days.”
I can’t help but smile. This big, strong man’s big, strong facade seems to be shattering right before my eyes. Again, I remind myself that this is what happens when you clean out a part of your life. Release is part of the process.
I take a step toward him and place my hand on his sculpted shoulder. “I’m glad you feel better,” I say, trying my damndest to keep this professional. “It was nice talking with you, too.” I nod and pull my hand away before I get the urge to run it along the grooves of his sinewy arms.
Another awkward moment lingers between us. My brain signals to my feet that it’s time to go, but my feet don’t want to listen. It takes a special kind of summoning to finally get them to move. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say, prompting the finale to my drawn-out exit.
I hop in my car and let out a long sigh when the door closes behind me. My engine turns over with a clatter, and again, I cringe. At my car, yes, but more at my daydreams of becoming Mrs. Colt Brady. God, I’m a fool.
I will myself not to look over at Colt, who is still standing nearby waiting for me to pull out. Instead, I follow my plan and put my car in drive. The car moves a few feet, and then…
Ker ker ker ker…plut.
“What the hell?” I twist my key. I switch gears. I even try to shake the car into forward motion, but it’s no use. It’s at this very moment that my car finally decides to shit the bed right in front of Colt Brady. Awesome.