Time floated. It could have been thirty seconds or five minutes. Her eyes had just drifted shut when she felt his breath hot against her cheek. “You are all of my dreams come true.”
Dammit. He was going to kill her.
Colton rose from her back and kissed a line down her spine and up again. Finally, he nuzzled his nose against her neck. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched him through heavy lids as he padded to the bathroom. A moment later, he returned, knelt by the bed, and brushed the hair from her forehead. “You still want that ham sandwich?”
She rose on her elbows. “Feed me.”
* * *
? ? ?
“By the way,” Gretchen said ten minutes later as she watched him slather a piece of sourdough with mustard. “You can say it. I know you want to.”
He looked up and licked the knife. “I don’t like your family very much.”
“Now you know why I don’t live there.”
Colton layered ham onto the bread. “They always treat you like that?”
“My whole life.”
“I’m sorry. You deserve better.” He put half of the sandwich on a plate and slid it toward her, keeping the other half for himself. “You can tell me more, if you want, but I’m not going to push you to talk about something until you’re ready.”
She would probably never be ready, but he deserved to know the full truth about her if they were going to keep doing . . . whatever this was. “I was a bit of a handful as a teenager.”
He chomped out a massive bite and spoke around it. “Everyone is a handful as a teenager.”
“I was worse than most. I ran away a lot.”
“Like, literally ran away, or like, packed a backpack with some granola bars and a teddy bear and walked up the road before coming home?”
“I made it all the way to Michigan once.”
He coughed and set down his sandwich. “What?! How? How old were you?”
“Sixteen. I had just gotten my driver’s license. Blake was home for Christmas, and I took his car. He was so pissed. They reported the car stolen the next morning when they discovered it was gone.”
Colton crossed his arms over his bare chest. “Wait . . . they woke up one morning to find both you and the car gone, and they only reported the car?”
“It would’ve been too much of a scandal to report me missing.”
“Jesus, Gretchen.”
“It made sense, actually. People are more likely to remember seeing a red Corvette than some random girl.”
“Is that how they justify it, or how you do?”
She toyed with her sandwich. “Anyway . . . my point was, I used to act out a lot and did some stuff that they resented me for, and that only got worse when I dared to not go into the family business.”
Colton abandoned his sandwich and slid over to stand in front of her where she leaned against the counter. He planted his hands on either side of her on the counter, barricading her within his shirtless embrace. “None of what you just told me justifies even a tiny bit the way they treat you.”
“I know. Years of therapy made me realize I acted out because they treated me like shit. I’m used to it at this point.”
“You shouldn’t be.”
His kind scrutiny made her squirm. She looked at the floor. “I don’t think my family has ever had anyone shove their bullshit back in their faces like you did tonight. Especially not for me.”
Colton placed a finger under her chin and lifted her face. “I’m available to do so whenever you need me.”
“You’ll have plenty of opportunities if you take this endorsement.”
“You don’t think I ruined my chance of that tonight?”
“I doubt it. They look at you and see dollar signs. They’ll put up with anything if it makes them richer.”
“Good. Because I officially want it now.”
“You do?”
“Yeah.” He kissed her swiftly and backed up. “Just to piss them off.”
Somehow, she managed to laugh, but it died quickly. Colton wasn’t vindictive. He lived to make people happy. But a few dates with her, and he was already absorbing her family’s toxicity. The best thing she could do for him would be to rip off the tentacles before they injected their poison any further.
But when he looked at her as he was now—with desire and kindness—it was hard to remember why this was a bad idea.
“You’re killing me in that shirt, you know,” he said, dragging his eyes up and down her body. She’d thrown on his discarded T-shirt before coming downstairs. He wore just a pair of basketball shorts.