***
After an uneventful day at the salon, I decide I’m not ready to go back to the house. It’s amazing how much better I feel compared to last week. I haven’t shopped lately, so I decide to drop by my favorite little boutique. They have the styles I enjoy for low prices.
Yes, I’m aware that Slade could be watching me, but I doubt that’s all he’s up to. I mean really, I work at the salon all day. There’s more to life than spying on me, even if he is trying to annoy the hell out of me. Even so, I had taken care to keep an eye out for any vehicles that appeared to be following too closely.
As I slip into a dressing room with a handful of clothing, I frown. I don’t even know what kind of vehicle Slade drives. The muffled sound of my phone chiming draws my attention. I set the clothes on the small bench and dig my phone out of my purse. I bring up the new text message. It’s from Colt. Where are you?
My eyebrows lift. Is he waiting for me at the house? If I’d known that, I would have gone straight home. I send back, shopping. I wait, but he doesn’t respond back. Odd. I’ll have to check with him later to find out what he’d wanted.
Once my phone is tucked back into my purse, I strip down and try on the clothes as my thoughts linger on Colt. My attraction towards him has progressed now that I know he’s attracted to me as well. I wish he saw himself as I see him. I know he’d never intentionally hurt a woman, but he doubts himself. It saddens me that he sees himself so negatively.
I really need to talk to Harper about all this, but I haven’t had a chance to fill her in because Gabe’s been off work. Today’s his last day off, and then he works the next four.
After I try on the clothes, I buy the outfits that I like and head home. When I arrive, Colt’s truck is out front, and I tell myself not to go in search for him right away. After yesterday’s revelations, it’s imperative that everything go back to normal no matter how badly I wish otherwise.
As soon as I enter the house, I carry my bags to my room and dump them on the bed. Call me superficial, but shopping always brightens my day.
I hear someone slip into my room, and I spin around as Colt firmly closes the door behind him. He looks displeased as his eyes lock on mine. “You went shopping,” he states.
I stare at him. He’d said it as if he’d caught me dancing topless on a bar. What the hell? “I did. I enjoy shopping,” I reply.
He walks over and stands toe to toe with me, causing me to crane my head back so that I can see his face. He’s so close that I can smell the tantalizing scent of his cologne. “Did you forget that your psycho ex is stalking you?” he reminds.
I make a face. “He’s not my ex.”
“I don’t care what you call him, he’s still following you.”
I wonder what he’d do if he knew I’m currently imagining closing the distance between us and pressing my breasts against his solid chest. It’s honestly not my fault, he’s the one who got all up in my space. His chest is mere inches from mine. How can he not be tempted? Is he really that unaffected?
“I’m being careful, Colt,” I say, struggling to follow the conversation. “But I’m also not going to stop doing the things that I enjoy. Look how paranoid Harper became when she tried to stick close to home,” I point out, trying not to betray what’s going on in my mind.
His expression is unyielding as he stares me down. “She almost died,” he clips out.
“That was different,” I argue. “Her life was actually threatened. Slade’s just being an asshole.”
He gives me a measured look. “You don’t think strangling and covering you in blood was a threat?”
I hate being reminded of it, and just like that, the temptation to rub myself against him disappears. “Asphyxiation during sex is something some couples do. I don’t like it, but that doesn’t mean that others don’t,” I say defensively.
His face lowers and gets right into mine. “He nearly strangled you to unconsciousness.”
“But he didn’t.”
“Why are you defending him?” he asks, his tone resembling a low, frustrated growl.
It wouldn’t take much to close the distance between our lips. He’s so close that I can see the flecks in his hazel eyes. He hadn’t shaved this morning, and my fingers itch to feel the coarseness along his jaw. I just want to drink him in and never come up for air.
I shake off my dangerous thoughts and concentrate on the conversation. “I’m not. I’m defending my right to shop.”
His eyes flash with a hint of temper. “Don’t make a joke about this, Quinn.”
I deliberately—and reluctantly—take a step back, putting distance between us before I cave to the temptation and do something that I shouldn’t. “I’m not. You know me, Colt. I like to go out and enjoy life. Staying in nightly isn’t my thing.”
A muscle begins to flex in his jaw. “If you need to go out, I’ll go with you.”
“That’s not a good idea,” I automatically reply. Going out with Colt would be pure torture. I’d either be miserable watching women hit on him, or I’d do something I might regret—like kiss those wickedly shaped lips.
“This isn’t about us, Quinn.”
“Exactly. If I want a tag-along, there’s plenty of others to ask.”
“Be careful,” he says finally.
“I will,” I assure. “I enjoy living too much to be careless with my life.”