Page 33 of Chasing the Wild
My stomach lets out a loud rumble.
“I’d have been happy with Ramen, but this smells amazing.” I dig my spoon in and the taste is pretty much heaven. Colt is obviously a damn good cook because the beef is tender and seasoned to perfection.
The man across from me looks horrified.
“You don’t like Ramen?” I slurp stew off my spoon.
“That’s not food.”
Noted. Cowboy mountain man won’t be joining me for a bowl of instant noodles any time this century. I hide my smile in my dinner and we both start to inhale our meals. Today has been a lot, and my body feels like it’s been run over by a truck and trailer.
“Beer?” He offers after standing and starting to rummage inside the fridge and I nod with a mouthful.
Colt settles down with a drink for himself across the other side of the island and passes one—already opened—to me. As he leans back to take a swig with head tilted, I watch on, captivated. His salt and pepper stubble and strong throat bobs when he works down a swallow.
God, he’s nice to look at.
I take a few more bites of food, and maybe it’s the alcohol working fast and helping me to feel a little looser, but there’s something I can’t quite work out. There aren’t any photos of family or a woman or anything personal in this entire place that I’ve seen—and I’ve definitely done my share of snooping when I’ve had the chance.
“Tell me this, Colton Wilder. Why maintain such a big place if it’s just you up here lording it over Devil’s Peak?” I smirk a little over the top of my beer.
He glances up at me, and doesn’t exactly smile, but I see his lips twitch.
I have to shift a little in my seat because that tiny flicker in his expression makes my pussy clench.
“It’s not exactly a pretty bedtime story.” His tone is light, but the creases around his eyes tell me this is territory he doesn’t easily venture into.
“I don’t mean to pry. You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”
Colt runs his tongue over the front of his teeth.
“An exchange is fair.” He tips the lip of the bottle, pointing the neck at me. “Answer one question for me first, Layla.”
My eyebrows shoot up into my hairline. What does he want to know?
“Okayyy…” I take the bait. Apparently I have no self-control when it comes to wanting to please this man.
“I’ve been sitting here wondering… what does a twenty-five-year-old need to pay for so desperately, that she’s rushing like a bull at a gate to finish her vet certification, and work night shifts in grungy bars on the side?” He sits back and crosses one arm across his chest, dangling the neck of his beer between thumb and forefinger with the other.
I pick at the hem of my sleeve for a moment.
He waits for me to start talking.
Blowing out a long exhale, I shift around on my stool.
“My mom had me when she was young—too young.” I hesitate, ducking a glance his way and see that he’s waiting for me to carry on. “I guess she felt like her youth was taken away, so spent mine chasing after what she thought she missed out on. I never met my dad, and the procession of guys she dated came and went with the seasons.”
Colt is studying me quietly as I talk, his hazel eyes watch me take a big sip of my beer before I continue.
“My aunt was the one who would pick me up after school, make sure I’d eaten, run me to dance classes and weekend recitals. She would let me stay with her for weeks, sometimes months at a time. I love her so much, and it always felt like I was on holiday when I was with her. Looking back, at the time, I was too young to think anything of it, but one day, I came home from school, and the guy sitting on my mom’s couch was looking at me with the same eyes he used to give her when they first met.”
It’s hard not to move around more in my seat under the intensity of Colt’s gaze.
“That’s the last day I lived with my mom.”
“Your aunt took you in?”
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Evaline made sure I didn’t go back there again.”
