Page 80 of Colton's Secret Weapon
Only to hear back, immediately, that the morning had gone like clockwork. And asking how soon he could get there.
Right. About that.
He hit the bathroom. And found Dove gone from their bed when he came out. As had been their way all week.
Nervous, needing to get a whole lot done in no time at all, he cursed his overemotional, wayward tongue of the day before. And realized he was also going to have to start to accept it. The task would be arduous. Likely slow. But worth the effort.
He was a Colton, an adventurer. He knew more than most that the more effort one put into something, the more benefit that came out of it.
By the time he’d made his coffee, Dove still hadn’t come out from her bathroom. Knocking on the door, he received no answer and moved at lightning speed to her room. No Dove there, either.
But he thought he heard a footstep above him.
Climbing the stairs he found her in his room, walking around naked, chomping on…a bunch of what looked to him to be grass.
Seeing him, she said, “I thought it’d be cool to shower together,” she told him.
Taking her hand, he led her to the bed, handed her the clothes that she’d obviously brought up with her and laid there, and said, “As much as I want to take you up on that offer, we don’t have time.” He was already at his dresser, pulling out underwear.
“I have something I have to tell you.”
And hurrying into clothes without a shower wasn’t the way he’d wanted to go about it.
“I want to buy St. James Boats,” he told her, rushing into his explanation even faster than he was getting into a pair of jeans. “You love the place, even if you don’t have the interest in or the skills necessary to run it. Living alone as I have all these years and investing well, I can easily afford to give you market value plus a bonus for selling it to me without trying to get other offers. And…”
Still naked, she stood, came over to him and lifted one finger to his lips. “Mitchell, you had me with the first sentence. You can buy it for a penny. Or I’ll gift it to you. The fact that you want it is of the greatest value to me.”
She had tears in her eyes again. Happy tears. And in spite of the crowd he knew was waiting for them, he took his time kissing her. Sharing his deepest heart.
Just in case she changed her mind.
And then he went right back to dressing. Hoping she’d get the hint and do the same.
He had no speech. No plan.
He would have had. If he’d woken up at dawn, as he’d done every morning since he was a teenager.
She’d pulled on panties. Was in the process of putting on a frilly purple crop top and stopped. Frowning at him. “What’s the big rush?” she asked, as if only then realizing that his talk about buying her father’s business had nothing to do with their need to forgo a shower for rushed throwing on of clothes.
“Wes texted,” he blurted. Truth. Absolute truth. “He needs us at the marina. Something about a party that is asking for the owner’s attention…” The truth. And…so much more than that.
“A customer?” The fact that she translated his perfectly normal sentence into legalese had to be a sign that he was supposed to go with it, right?
He might be aware of an inner knowledge, but he wasn’t so great at listening to it yet. Or understanding if he did.
“Right,” he told her. And did his best just to get himself downstairs and into his car without giving her a chance for any further conversation about the docks. He asked her how she was feeling.
Listened while she told him what she could do to ease her stiffness, her soreness. She just needed to get her oils. Some bath salts. And a diffuser.
He knew what the words meant. Had no concept of what she was going to do with them all. Asked if she’d taken the muscle relaxants or pain pills the doctor had prescribed.
And was a bit frustrated, but not all that surprised, to hear she hadn’t filled the prescription before she’d left the medical center as she’d been told to do.
By then, he was pulling into the marina. Not breathing deeply. And beginning to think that he’d made the biggest mistake of his life.
He’d loved the idea when he’d heard it the day before. From Hetty Amos in the waiting room at the trauma center.
Had forgotten all about it. Until Wes’s text.
