Page 73 of Ride Me Reckless
He hummed against my lips, then stepped back just enough to let his gaze roam over my face.
“I knew you’d come home someday,” he said. “I just didn’t know if I’d be smart enough to fix it when you did.”
I didn’t have the words. I just nodded.
Because this wasn’t just a house.
This was a new beginning.
And I could finally feel it.
Colt reached for my hand as we stepped onto the porch, his thumb brushing gently across my knuckles like he couldn’t help himself. The wood beneath our boots felt smooth and new, but not cold, like it had been broken in just enough to feel familiar.
The screen door released a soft creak, and we were inside.
I stopped in my tracks.
It wasn’t just redone—it was reimagined. The place looked nothing like the scuffed-up double wide we’d once shared during those messy, passionate years when we were too stubborn to admit we didn’t have it all figured out.
Now, the space was warm and open, with cream-colored walls and woven rugs layered over dark wood floors. A new leather sofa sat across from a stone-look electric fireplace, soft light flickering behind the glass. The windows had real curtains—linen maybe—and the whole room smelled like fresh paint and vanilla.
And yet, some pieces tugged at my memory. A vintage lamp I’d once rescued from a flea market sat in the corner, its base still chipped in the exact same spot. The bookshelf Colt had built with crooked shelves—it was back, only now sanded and stained rich walnut.
But the real gut-punch was the photo on the mantle.
It was a picture of us. Young and sun-kissed, standing beside Biscuit after a barrel race, my arms around his waist, his hat cocked low as he smiled like he already knew the world belonged to him as long as I was in it.
I stepped closer, fingertips brushing the frame.
“You kept this?” I asked.
Colt stood behind me, hands in his pockets. “Couldn’t make myself toss it.”
I swallowed hard, blinking back a new wave of tears. “You renovated the whole house and didn’t even move the mantle.”
He gave a small smile. “Some things still work just fine the way they are.”
I turned away before I got too emotional again, eyeing the sofa. “Well… you might know how to fix a house, but your furniture placement still sucks.”
He barked a laugh. “Excuse me?”
I pointed. “The couch needs to be angled toward the window, not away from it. What’s the point of all that landscaping if you can’t enjoy it from inside? And the bed—let me guess—you shoved it in the corner like some bachelor cave.”
He raised a brow, like it was a dare. “You wanna come supervise?”
“Absolutely.”
We moved into the bedroom, and sure enough, he’d plunked the gorgeous new bed—soft quilt, wide headboard—against the wall that had always made the room feel boxed in. I gave him a look, then dropped my purse on the dresser.
“Let’s rotate it,” I said, already walking to the far end to grab a leg. “Window view, so I can watch the sunrise. Or the snow.”
Colt chuckled but followed my lead, gripping the other end of the frame. “Bossy.”
“You like it,” I said, grinning over my shoulder.
“Damn right I do.”
We got the bed moved, and he shifted the nightstand like he was taking mental notes. I could tell he was watching me—not in a lustful way, not yet—but like I was putting something back into place he didn’t realize he’d been missing.
