Page 49 of Tempted By the Alpha Outlaw

I smile faintly, tilting my head. “And you don’t?”

He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the ground. “I don’t know,” he says finally. “But maybe you’ll convince me.”

I feel my cheeks warm under his steady gaze. “Maybe I will,” I say, my heart thudding in my chest.

The sky darkens above us, the first stars beginning to pierce through the veil of twilight. Colt glances up, his expression thoughtful. “Looks like you’re about to get your wish,” he says, nodding toward the sky. “The stars are coming out.”

I follow his gaze, awe washing over me as the stars slowly multiply, their light filling the dark canvas above. “They’re beautiful,” I whisper, my voice filled with wonder.

“Damn right,” Colt murmurs–and when I glance back at him, I realize he’s not looking at the stars.

He’s looking at me.

“Come on,” he says. “I think we can see another planet up here.”

We reach one of the larger telescopes, its body tilted upward like it’s frozen mid-thought, staring at the heavens. I run my fingers along the cool metal, marveling at its size and the intricate machinery that still holds its shape despite the years of neglect.

Colt leans against the base of the telescope, his arms crossed as he watches me. “You ever look through one of these before?”

“Not like this,” I admit. “My parents have a small one, but it’s nothing compared to this. My dad used to set it up for us on clear nights, show us the planets and constellations.”

A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “Sounds nice.”

“It was,” I say. “But it’s been a long time since I’ve done anything like that. Too much to do, too many responsibilities.”

“Guess tonight’s your chance,” he says, his voice low. “No responsibilities. No distractions. Just you and the stars.”

And you, I think, but I don’t say it out loud. Instead, I step closer to the telescope, tilting my head to look up at the sky. The stars are brighter now, scattering across the darkness like diamonds, and for a moment, I forget everything else.

I lean down to the eyepiece, my heart skipping a beat as I press my eye to the small glass window. The metal feels cool against my cheek, and I hold my breath, expecting to see some glittering view of the cosmos. Instead, there’s…nothing. Just a blurry smear of darkness.

“I can’t see anything,” I admit, straightening and turning toward Colt. “Either it’s broken, or I’m doing it wrong.”

Colt pushes off the base of the telescope, unfolding himself with an easy, fluid motion that sends a ripple of awareness through me. “Let me take a look,” he says, stepping closer.

He leans over the telescope, his broad shoulders and back cutting a strong silhouette against the darkening sky. I watch the way his hands move over the knobs and dials, adjusting them with practiced precision. The faint scruff along his jaw catches the moonlight, and I can’t stop staring, even as my pulse thrums in my ears.

“Try now,” he says, glancing back at me.

I hesitate, feeling suddenly hyper-aware of how close we’re standing. I can practically feel the heat of his body, the powerful scent of him making my knees feel a little weak. I step forward, leaning down again to the eyepiece, but as I do, my shoulder brushes against his chest.

“Sorry,” I murmur, straightening instinctively, my cheeks burning.

“No need to apologize,” Colt says, his voice low. “Here, let me?—”

Before I can step away, his hand moves to the small of my back, steadying me. It’s not a hard touch—barely there, really—but it feels like a brand, warm and grounding. My breath catches, and for a moment, I forget what I’m supposed to be doing.

“You’ve got to angle it a little more like this,” Colt murmurs, his voice close to my ear now. He leans over me, his chest brushing my shoulder as he adjusts the telescope again, his fingers deft on the metal controls. I can feel his warmth, the faint rasp of his breath against my hair, and it’s everything I can do not to lean back into him.

“There,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “Try now.”

I press my eye to the telescope again, my hands trembling slightly as I adjust the focus. This time, the sky comes into sharp clarity—stars brighter and closer than I’ve ever seen them, like they’re within reach. And there, in the center of the lens, is a planet—a pale, glowing orb suspended in the inky blackness.

“Oh,” I breathe, unable to contain my awe. “It’s beautiful.”

“Told you,” Colt says, his hand still resting against my back. “Sometimes you’ve just got to look at things the right way.”

I glance up at him, the words catching me off guard. His eyes are on me now, not the telescope, and there’s a softness there that makes my heart stutter. His face is so close, close enough that I can see the faint flecks of gold in his irises, the way his lips part slightly as his gaze dips to my mouth.

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