Page 70 of The County Line
But I had no idea.
I didn’t realize just how far he’d fallen into our father’s shadow. And I’ll never forgive my dad for dragging Maverick down with him. For dragging us all down.
Tears burn hotter as I press my hands against my chest, trying to push the memories back in place where they need to stay for now. They’re relentless, and they take me places I don’t want to go. To every unanswered text. Every missed chance. Every piece of him that slipped away until there was nothing left for me to hold onto. I’ll remember him fondly, for the good parts, but even the broken parts made up who he was.
The door to the bedroom in the RV creaks open, and Roxy’s soft whimpers pull me out of my spiraling. Her nails click against the floor as she noses her way inside, her big, warm body leaping onto the bed without hesitation to be close to me. She curls up next to side, pressing her weight into me like a familiar pillow, her tail thumping rhythmically against my leg.
“Hey, girl,” I murmur, my voice cracking as I scratch behind her ears. She responds by licking my face, her warmth steady and comforting.
The tears fall freely now, a strange mixture of joy and sorrow swirling together. It’s as if the weight of everything—Maverick, Colt, the future, the past—is crashing down at once so I let the tears come.
There’s a deep, bone-aching sadness in me for Maverick, for the brother I’ve lost twice now—once when he started pulling away, and finally, yesterday, when I had to say goodbye for good. But there’s happiness, too, tentative and fragile, in what’s beginning between me and Colt.
I stroke Roxy’s fur, grounding myself in the stillness of the moment, in the quiet hum of life outside the RV on the Marshall’s farmstead. I know that I’ll have to face the reality of a world without Maverick soon. Of staying in this town, seeing people who knew him, building a life here knowing I’ll never run into him again, moving forward. I’m not sure what this new world will look like. All I know is that it will be different.
It already is.
“I’m sorry I took your place in Colt’s bed last night,” I murmur softly to Roxy.
She lets out a light huff as if she’s forgiven me already and I smile.
I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, my feet brushing the cool floor as I reach for Colt’s black t-shirt crumpled on the floor from last night. I pull it over my head, and it covers me like a cozy tent, the hem landing just below my thighs. At five foot eight, I’m not short, but Colt is big—broad, tall, and all muscle. The shirt envelopes me in his scent, warm and woodsy with a hint of something that’s always been distinctlyhim. It’s a smell that I’ve come to crave, and my body wants him this morning.
Padding out to the tiny RV kitchen, I find him at the stove, the space so cramped for his big frame it looks like even the frying pan barely fits. He’s plating up eggs and bacon, moving with that easy confidence he always has.
He catches my eye as I enter, his mouth twitching into a lopsided smile that sends warmth straight to my chest. “You hungry, baby?”
“Starving.”
He nods toward the door. “How about breakfast by the firepit? I started it up earlier. Warm front must’ve blown in after all those storms we’ve been having but there’s still a bite in the air.”
“That sounds perfect.”
I step outside and find the fire already crackling, its warmth chasing off the lingering chill from the morning. A red-and-black fleece blanket is draped over my chair—mychair, because that’s what it feels like now. The spot I’ve claimed during all these nights spent with Colt, reconnecting in ways I never imagined.
He joins me a moment later, balancing a plate of food in one hand and a steaming mug of coffee in the other. He sets the mug on the armrest of my chair before settling into his own and stretching out his long legs with just a glass of water.
“Thank you,” I tell him. I hope he knows I’m not just thanking him for the food but for everything he’s done for me.
He tilts his head. “How’d you sleep?”
“Amazing. What about you?”
He nods “Best I’ve slept since getting out.
I smile and then dig into the food; the first bite pulls an involuntary moan from me. The eggs are fluffy, the bacon crispy—simple, but perfect and exactly what I needed.
Colt chuckles, the sound low and full of promise. “You keep making noises like that, and I’ll have you bent over one of these chairs before we’re done.”
Heat rushes to my cheeks, and I duck my head, focusing on my coffee to avoid his gaze. It’s stupid, things have always been easy between us and I’m not shy about my body, but something’s changed between our relationship. We went from friends who casually flirted to… this. And I’m still trying to figure out what it is.
I feel his eyes on me, warm and teasing.
“How areyoufeeling? About... you know... everything?” I ask, steering the conversation to safer ground.
He takes a bite of bacon, his jaw tightening as he stares into the fire. “Fucked up over Maverick.”
“Yeah,” I murmur. “Me too.” I pause, the crackle of the flames filling the silence. Then, a memory bubbles up. “Do you remember that time we tried to sneak out of your bedroom after your dad fell asleep? We were headed to that party at Hickory Ridge, and Mav fell? That lump on his arm was huge—we thought it was definitely broken—but he still insisted on going to the party anyways.”
