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Colt

Colt stared at the dangling sleeve of his shirt, working up the nerve to lift his throbbing arm.

The familiar chirp of the door alarm rang through the house. Remi was here. Good. She could help.

“Come and get it!” Remi shouted from downstairs.

“Help!”

Remi grumbled, but the stomping on the stairs told him she was coming to his rescue. Seconds later, she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed over her chest.

What a beautiful sight in the morning. Remi never failed to get his heart racing.

“Do we need to get you one of those Life Alert buttons?”

“Getting old is hard.”

“It’s a privilege denied to many.”

Colt picked up the shirt sleeve and let it fall.

Remi bit back a grin as she approached. “I think you need to put this sleeve on first.”

Colt looked from one sleeve to the other. “See? This is why I need you. You got all the brains, and I got all the looks.”

“If I got all the brains, we’re in trouble.” She slid the flannel shirt off his good arm. “You didn’t have any problems getting that under shirt on.”

“It was touch and go for a minute there.”

Remi slid the shirt on his injured arm and then brought the other side around behind him.

“Definitely easier with your help.”

“Great. Now let’s swallow breakfast.” She turned for the door. “I have to get to the ranch early to give Hadley the rundown before the activities start.”

“Wait.”

Remi turned around, looking like her patience was already running thin.

Colt pointed to the buttons on his shirt. “Please.”

Remi rolled her eyes and grunted but started making quick work of the buttons. “You’re the slowest human alive.”

“I just want you all to myself for a little longer,” Colt whispered.

Remi looked up at him, and he took the opportunity. “One, two, three, go,” he said quickly.

“Not now,” Remi whined.

“Yes now,” Colt said, already fully invested in the staring contest.

Staring contests with Remi were his favorite thing. They’d started years ago, and he’d yet to win a game. Remi refused to lose, and Colt got a pass to look at her, uninterrupted, for as long as he could hold his eyes open.

“One day, I’m going to win,” he said.

“Not on your life, Walker.”

His eyes burned and watered.Just don’t blink. Don’t do it.