Page 12 of Better Together

She’d been defending her pizza topping preferences for years, but Colt hadn’t batted an eye when she’d ordered spinach and white sauce on her pizza the first time. It was silly how much that acceptance had meant to her.

Ridge took a bite of the Hawaiian pizza and furrowed his brow at her. “What happened to you?”

Remi looked down. She was still wearing Colt’s clothes. “Oh, I fell into a puddle outside.”

Ridge glanced at Colt who did nothing to corroborate her story.

“I’m going to get my clothes out of the dryer so I can feel like a real person again instead of a pile of dirty laundry.”

“Those clothes are clean!” Colt shouted after her.

She grabbed her warm clothes from the dryer and slipped into them. Colt’s clothes were comfy, but spending the evening wearing them was messing with her head. She picked up Colt’s shirt and pants and molded the soft fabric in her hands. What was it about Colt’s clothes that always ignited the kleptomaniac inside her?

Remi had been tested continuously since coming to Wolf Creek Ranch. First, Mr. Chambers, the owner of the ranch, trusted her to clean the main house. So many shiny things caught her eye, but she was able to dust each and every thing in the house and deposit them right back where they belonged.

Then, she’d been given the housekeeping position for the ranch cabins. It was a test, and she passed when a year had gone by and she hadn’t swiped a single thing from a guest. She could resist when her new life and the safety and comfort of it were at stake.

Colt’s clothes? Not so easy to resist. It had to be the smell. Colt wasn’t an Abercrombie guy, and he didn’t smell like a male model. He smelled like dirt and hay and sweat.

What did it say about her that she liked it?

She rolled up the pants and stuffed them under her arm. In the waistband of her pants would be the ideal hiding place, but she was wearing her jeans a little tighter these days. The pizza was to blame.

Back in the kitchen, the men were shoving cold pizza into their mouths.

“I’m heading home.” Remi carefully skirted the island with her back to Colt and Ridge, concealing the roll of pants that peeked out from under her arm.

Colt looked up, seeming brighter after his short nap. “Wait. How am I supposed to get ready for bed with one arm?”

Remi pointed to Ridge, careful to keep her left elbow tucked tight to her side. “You’re in charge of the patient now.”

Ridge looked at Colt, then back to Remi. “Can’t you take him with you?”

Remi shook her finger. “Oh no. Mine and Jess’s place is a male-free zone. No boys allowed.”

“But you’re Colt’s only friend,” Ridge said.

Colt slapped a hand on the counter. “I thoughtyouwere my friend!”

Ridge looked at the ceiling. “See? Now he thinks I’m his friend, and I have to act like I like him.”

“Words hurt!” Colt shouted.

Ridge gave Remi a pitiful, pleading look. “I’m not serving him breakfast in the morning.”

Remi headed for the door, angling her body to hide Colt’s pants. They’d be her pants soon. She’d be sleeping in them until the smell wore off.

There was nothing wrong with stealing her friend’s pants. She’d keep telling herself that when she added the pants to the overflowing drawer in her bedroom she’d filled with Colt’s clothes.

She opened the door and positioned her left side safely behind it. “I’ll come over and feed the patient.”

“I’ll miss you! You’re my favorite person!” Colt yelled.

He wanted a breakfast sandwich. Thankfully, she spoke Colt’s secret language.

She would be back in the morning, and all talk about families would be behind them. Things were great the way they were, and nothing had to change.

Chapter4

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