Page 116 of Finding Denver
Colt looks close to murder, and I cover his mouth with my hand. “Ronan, I’ll be downstairs in a?—”
“Let me in, Denver. Let’s not fight it. Colt is nothing compared to me and my?—”
Colt bangs on the door. “Very fucking funny.”
Ronan laughs loudly. “Iknewyou were in there. Stop making out and come downstairs. Dessert is ready.”
Everyone is talking around the dining table when Colt and I walk in. Finn is noticeably missing, but Helena looks like she’s on cloud nine as she watches us. We eat tiramisu and talk like a family does—about Christmas, and what tomorrow brings. It’s like every other dinner I’ve had here but bigger, louder, with more laughter.
And Colt is holding my hand under the table.
Danielle and Alison sandwich me in a hug before leaving, telling me I’d better be here for Christmas, and I nod as if I am, even though I know I won’t be. Ronan tells me he needs help at work tomorrow if I’m up for it. As Colt says goodbye to everyone, I wait outside, breathing in the cool air and snow.
It’s been such a perfect evening. One I’ll remember for a while.
I’m smiling as Finn’s car pulls up and he gets out.
“Where did you go?” I ask.
“A quick work thing. You’re leaving?” he asks, and I nod. He kisses my temple. “It was good having you here.”
“It was good being here.” His comfort is so similar to my father’s. An easy kind of relationship between us that I want to hold onto. He even smells the same, a spicy cologne mixed with …
He touches my chin, smiling at me. “See you tomorrow.”
I try to ignore the blood on his sleeve. The smell of ironmingled with cologne. The reminder that behind these evenings, behind the family and memories, we’re not good people.
Not even close.
Colt and Finn share some words on the street, but we soon set off to walk to Colt’s townhouse.
The last time I was here was too brief to appreciate the warmth of the place. It smells like vanilla, and there are photographs across the walls and on the mantle above the unlit fire. The couches are large and well used, and reminders of Holly are everywhere. A fluffy pink blanket on the sofa, shoes by the door, a cardigan, and toys. Colt sweeps up things as he goes.
“Sorry, I didn’t think I’d be having anyone here.”
“No, I like it,” I say. “I like knowing she’s been here.”
Colt still tidies, and when he goes to get us a drink, I go to the mantle. There are photographs of Holly, of Wilder with a baby in his arms grinning at the camera, and it shakes me a little to see him like that. I’ve only ever seen darkness in his eyes, a wildness that seemed untamable, especially that night. But he looks … happy.
There are more of Colt and Wilder as teenagers in their hockey gear, arms around each other’s shoulders, grinning wildly at the camera. And one photo of a little girl with light brown hair and Colt’s eyes.
“Is this Amy?” I ask as he returns with wine.
He nods. “It is.”
“She’s so beautiful,” I say. “I thought she’d have dark hair like Holly.”
“No, she looked more like Callie,” he says, gazing at the photo. “Acted a lot like her, too. Which is strange, given that they never met.”
A thought like that keeps bothering me about Theo. Ishe like me? Or like his dad? Or does he have traits of my mom, my dad?
“Do you have a photo of Callie?” I ask.
He nods and glances around, finally plucking a frame from a side table. He hands it to me and my breath catches. It’s from their wedding day. A four-tier wedding cake is in front of them, and Callie is feeding Colt a piece of cake. She’s beautiful, light brown hair swept back and half hidden by her veil, blue eyes bright as she smiles.
Colt is looking at her like she’s his whole world.
I can’t remember what Wyatt and I looked like on our wedding day. I was pregnant and trying to hide it from the cameras, and he was isolated from most of the wedding party because no one wanted to be overly friendly to Deluxe’s new husband while Ranger was in the room.
