Page 90 of The Wild Card
“Yes. I’m actually wondering. You’ve brought me here—twice. And why is your car stocked with all the essentials: a candle, blanket, and pillows?”
“If I had the essentials, I’d also have a cooler full of drinks and some snacks,” Collin said. “A citronella candle is always a good idea—this is Texas. Everything is bigger, including the mosquitoes. The blanket and pillows were from my apartment in Austin. I just hadn’t brought them up to the loft yet.”
“Doesn’t answer my most important question. What’s so special about this place that you keep bringing me here?”
He doesn’t answer right away, and I force myself to wait rather than blurt out other questions. Like: have you brought any other women out here? Who? When?
“This is actually only the third time I’ve been here,” he says. “The first time was with my dad the night you went to Wolf’s bar.”
I groan. “Could we not talk about that night ever again, please?”
Collin grins. “Sorry. You can try to forget it, but I won’t. Anyway, Tank brought me out here just before we got reports of a certain damsel in need of a rescue.”
He pauses again, while I die a little more of embarrassment, thinking of the cinnamon whisky and the arm wrestling and the apparent singing I did. But then I think about the way Collin took such good care of me: rubbing my sore feet, making sure I had enough water, putting me to bed. My affection for him is a warm ember, glowing in my chest.
“So, your dad broughtyouhere. Now you’re bringingmehere. What’s so special about this field? Or this road? Not that it’s not … nice.”
He doesn’t answer right away, then says, “My dad bought this field for me.”
I glance out at the field, which stretches to the distant trees and includes my favorite cow and a dozen or so others, all with the same funny coloring. Now, I’m seeing it differently. “Seriously? You own this field?”
“I haven’t seen the title or anything, but apparently.”
“How many acres is it?”
“Twenty-three.”
“Is it a full-on farm or just a field?”
“I think it’s just a field. There aren’t any structures on it that I know of. Right now it’s being leased for grazing purposes. Obviously.”
I sit up, glancing over where my cow friend is watching us with a forlorn expression. “What about the cows? Are they included?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Well, that’s too bad. Because I’m getting pretty attached to Cookie.”
“Cookie? You named it Cookie?”
“Him. And yes. Because he looks like an Oreo.”
“Why not name him Oreo?”
“Because now he’s not tied down to a specific brand identity.”
Collin leans my way, one eyebrow arched. “You are truly an interesting woman, Molly Douglas.”
Interestingisn’t bad. It’s also notgorgeousorsexyorirresistible, but I guess I’ll take it.
“Why did your dad buy you a field?” I ask, shifting a little so I’m mirroring his position, leaning on my side facing him.
I don’t realize how intimate this will be, how close our faces will be, until it’s too late to move back. My heart picks up its pace, and I try to keep my face expressionless. But this new angle and proximity to Collin makes it a true test of my will.
He sighs, dragging a hand through his dark hair and leaving it mussed. “When I started the gym, it was meant to be my future. Not just my career, but mydream. I wanted to help high-level athletes reach their full potential—that was the idea, anyway.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his gaze somewhere over my shoulder, as though searching for the right words. Or an explanation for how his dream must have gone off the rails.
“And it ended up being just a regular old gym with a smoothie bar in the lobby,” he finally says.
