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He snorts. “Nearly got a butt full of lead for my pains.”
“They’re not naturals?”
“No. They’re not.” The paper rattles. “Do you mind?”
“What? Whipping them into shape? No. If anything, thank you,” I say honestly. “By the looks of the Bar 9, they need it.”
“They’re good kids.”
“Callan wouldn’t agree.”
“Because they’re too alike.”
“Ooooofff, don’t tell him that.”
He winks at me. “Already have.”
I’m grateful he takes up residence behind the paper again because I’m squirming in my seat.
Ever since I found out that he’s been taking care of my brothers, without a single word of encouragement from me, without any expectation, even going so far as to provide them with a defense attorney we’d never have been able to afford before our marriage, the tingle in my dingle (as Tee has horrifically started calling it) is getting worse.
Squirming in my seat at the prospect of watching ‘Daddy Colt’ in action (another Tee-ism), I eat some oatmeal and make a couple of notes on my to-do list as I drink the coffee he made for me when I came down for breakfast.
It’s a disturbingly domestic scene, but it’s happening more and more often.
Since the news spread that Colton was with me on the day Lydia died, Callan, Lindsay, and Ida think we’re hiding our relationship from them. That means, for whatever reason they can come up with, most of them atrociously weak, the table’s absent of anyone’s presence apart from my own and Colton’s.
For whatever reason,neither of us has yet to skip a meal since I gave him an alibi.
And for whatever reason, I’m enjoying his company.
It’s like the old days but better—there’s no reason to be frightened of running into Clyde or to pretend I don’t exist. Nor do I have to return to the Bar 9.
A part of me doesn’t want to trust in this new normal but it’s Colt. And old me, whether he betrayed her or not, does.
It’s like my lungs taking in air or my heart beating.
I can’t stop the process even if I want to.
“A BBQ would do them good. With their truck impounded, they’re looking stir-crazy for outside contact.”
“I think they’re having a hard time at school.”
“None of this makes any sense. We all have alibis but we’re still the prime suspects. I’m beginning to think your grandma is right. Reillyisan idiot.Or, he’s just corrupt.”
“You talked to her?”
“Had the pleasure, yes.”
That tingling dingle is turning into an outright vibration.
“You sure you want them to eat here?”
The top corner of the paper flops down as he peers over it. “Any reason why they shouldn’t?”
“Wasn’t messing around when I said Callan doesn’t like the triplets.”
“Callan doesn’t like a lot of people.” His frown makes an appearance as he tosses the paper on the table. I can see he has it open where the Sudoku puzzle is. Has he been hiding behind the paper as he solves it? I shouldn’t find that endearing but I do. “The triplets aren’t that bad, Zee.”