Page 12 of Treasure and Tarot

Colton snorted. “He read me the riot act.”

“He has opinions, and he knows what I like.”

“Is he your lover?” Colton asked.

“Is that your business?”

“Maybe.” Colton sighed, setting his wineglass down. “Look, I’m here to help. Hank says you have a lot of trouble in the house.”

“I do. I just want to find out what’s wrong with the ghosts. That’s it.” He wanted peace.

“Well, we can work on that.” Colton studied him. “You want some wine?”

“No. No, I’ll probably stay up here, but in case I decide to drive home…”

“So how have you been?”

“Exhausted. Stressed. You’ve been…busy.”

“Have I?” Colton tilted his head. “I guess so. I mean, I left on that job. I was bailing on it when someone sent off a charge in the mine we were working in. Tennessee. It wasn’t pretty. So yeah. Four surgeries. Months of rehab. Two infections that almost lost me my leg. I’ve been busy.”

“That sucks. I’m sorry to hear that.” He’d been pregnant and raising a baby, but that was way more common than a mine.

“Yeah. Well, I tried to call to tell you all about it, but you never answered.” Colton’s eyes were starting to snap a little fire at him.

He let one eyebrow raise. “Really? Are you sure about that? I never got a phone call from you.”

He’d even sent his new number to Colton when he changed his number. Fucking liar.

“I called and called. What the hell else did I have to do in the hospital in fucking Nevada?”

He shrugged and held up his phone. “It’s been four years. No ringy-dingies.”

“Well, I called.” Colton gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing. “I’ve never lied toyou, Sebastian.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? I haven’t spoken to you to lie to you.” He wasn’t going to be accused of anything, fucker.

“Lies of omission are just as bad as lies to my face!” Colton popped up out of the chair, then staggered and reached for his cane, his face going white as a sheet.

He leapt up and grabbed Colton. “What the fuck? Should I call 911?”

If they were going to do that, they needed to do it now. It could take ninety minutes, easy.

“No. No, I just stepped wrong. I still have a lot of scar tissue that’s working itself out, and the ortho guy thinks I need one more surgery.” Colton put his hands on Sebastian’s arms to steady himself, Sebastian thought. God, those big hands were hot.

“Bastian. Is she mine?”

Chapter

Six

The pain in his leg was nothing compared to the shit he was thinking at the moment. Colton wanted to shake Sebastian. He wanted to kiss him, too. They were so close he could see the gold in Sebastian’s green eyes, the little flecks standing out so clearly.

God. He was a mess.

Sebastian stared at him. “She’s mine. You and your people gave up any rights to her. I have it in writing. That little girl is mine.”

His chest seized up, and he couldn’t breathe. That happened since the cave-in, too. The doctors called it PTSD or anxiety or whatever. He just called it fight or flight, but he wasn’t about to flee. “I never signed a goddamn thing. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

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