Page 79 of Finding Denver
“Me? No courage?” I mumble into his palm.
“And I’m Colt Harland. Too cool for Denver DeLuca.” He laughs as I punch his arm. “But secretly liked her, anyway, so asked her out on this date.”
“Ass. Hole,” I say. “You shouldn’t secretly like me. You should like me at the top of your lungs.”
“Okay. I like Denver DeLuca!” he shouts, and I laugh and cover his mouth with my gloved hand. People passing by either frown or chuckle, and I move closer to him.
“Shush!” I say, smiling so much my cheeks hurt. “Make this date a good one or I’m telling everyone we know that you suck. And then I’m gonna ask out Ronan McEwan.”
I bat my eyes and stroll away, and Colt is quickly by my side.
“You wouldn’t dare,” he whispers, tugging me to his side, his arm around my waist.
It doesn’t feel sexual to be like this with him. I’m not even blushing to be this close to Colt. But I am aware of how Spider found me in the first place.
“Someone could take a photo,” I say.
He holds me a little tighter, and I don’t know why that makes me feel good.
“Worried Ranger might see?”
“Worried he’d hurt you if he did.”
Ranger’s patience with Ethan was only because I was drifting between them both. He stepped back in the same way he did with Wyatt—because he knew, eventually, I’d be Mrs. Ranger Luxe.
Now, that title is firmly mine. If Ranger saw me like this with another man, I don’t want to think what he’d do.
“I’m not worried that Ranger will hurt me,” Colt says. “The only thing I’m worried about is that he’ll take you from me.”
And just like that, as if a thousand lightning bolts had found current through those words, my heart does something it shouldn’t. The words roll from Colt’s tongue as if he’s said them a thousand times, as if his protectiveness over me is a working part of him that’s always been there. He doesn’t blink, or blush, or fumble over the sentence, and for some reason, that makes me want to bolt in the other direction.
And not because I don’t want to hear him say things like that.
But because I do.
“We’re here.” Colt nudges me.
I shake off the unusual feeling that’s building in my chest and gape.
“Ice-skating?”
Colt nods. “It’s winter in New York. I’m taking you to the tourist spots.”
Fine by me.
“Is this a good time to tell you I’ve never done this before?” I say after we’ve paid and are sitting on a bench, lacing our skates.
Colt stands. He’s always tall, but with the skates, he’s massive. He holds out his gloved hand and I take it as Istand, wobbling a little. “I played hockey in school. Just hold onto me.”
Of course he did.
The first step onto the ice is terrifying. People are making slow laps of the rink, kids and adults alike, and I’m clinging to the side in a way that would make even Bambi laugh.
“Maybe we should just go for food.”
He grins at me and holds out his hands. “You’ll be fine. Just trust me.”
With one arm fixed to the edge, I reach out and grasp his hand. He skates closer, prying me away from safety.
