Page 74 of Fixing to Be Mine

“You free tomorrow?” he asks casually as he turns down the long gravel road.

The house sits at the back of the property, half painted.

“Hmm,” I say playfully. “Let me check my schedule. Seems I’m free.”

“Perfect,” he says, flashing a grin. “Would you like to go on a date with me?”

“No,” I say, giving a brief pause, followed by a short laugh. “I’dloveto.”

“Great. I have the perfect place.”

I shift in my seat, and the butterflies in my chest turn into something a little more dangerous, like a swarm of bees.

“What should I wear?”

He grins. “Whatever you’d like.”

My pulse races.

His smile tugs a little deeper. “Why are you nervous?”

“Well,” I reply, stretching my legs out in front of me, knowing I can’t deny it because he sees straight through me, “I’m waiting for the bottom to fall out of this.”

“That’s not happening, Stormy. Unless you decide I’m too young and there’s no space for you and me in your life.” He parks in front of the house, but doesn’t immediately kill the engine.

“I’m giving us a chance,” I admit for the first time, and it doesn’t scare me.

Colt doesn’t answer right away. He stares at me, and a pull starts low in my stomach. The way his eyes soften, howhis fingers tighten slightly around the steering wheel, like he’s remembering this very moment.

He shifts in his seat, turns toward me, and kills the engine.

“I’m glad,” he says. “Because I’ve already made up my mind about you.”

My breath catches.

He leans in, elbows resting casually on the middle console, but his eyes never leave mine. “I knew the second you walked into my sister’s house, looking like trouble, wrapped in heartbreak, that you were fixin’ to be mine.”

I laugh, stunned and a little breathless. “You really said that to yourself?”

“Swear on my boots.”

I shake my head, grinning now despite the hum running beneath my skin. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

He tilts his head, that cocky little smile tugging at the edge of his mouth. “No, darlin’, maybe I don’t. But I still want in.”

That swarm in my chest settles into something steadier.

I reach for the door handle and glance back at him one more time. “Come on, cowboy. We have a house to finish and a dog to adopt.”

He’s already getting out of the truck with a grin that says I’m his.

And maybe, just maybe, I am.

Colt walks beside me, his hands relaxed at his sides as we take the porch steps. He unlocks the door and stops in the entryway, kicking off his boots. “You seriously up for working on the house today?”

I arch an eyebrow as I step inside behind him. “Can I use power tools this time?”

“You get a paintbrush, a roll of tape, and a motivational speech,” he says.

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