Page 100 of Finding Denver

“Well, either way, Dad and I are here if you need us,” Noah says. “You always have the Merricks on side.” I snort, and they both stare at me. “My number is the same. Just call me when you want to go out.”

“I will.” She hugs him goodbye, and I don’t even bother offering to shake his hand again because I’m being childish.

Denver fills Lewis in on the conversation on the drive back, and I say nothing. I don’t know why Noah Merrickhas bothered me so much. He seems fine. The Merricks are fine. They’re not a big family, but they don’t have a terrible reputation.

Denver Merrick is a ridiculous name, though. It doesn’t suit her.

Why am I even thinking about that?

Finn’s house is still empty when we get back, and while Lewis goes upstairs, Denver leans against the kitchen side, texting.

Texting Noah, probably. I open the refrigerator far too aggressively. “Noah seems nice.”

“Mmhm.”

Taking out a water bottle, I open it, staring at her. “He’s a little short.”

She raises her gaze to mine. “Everyone is short next to you.” I shrug and take a swig. “Do you have something you’d like to say, Colt?” she asks sweetly, placing her phone down. “Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?”

“I have absolutely no thoughts.”

“Clearly.”

I glare at her. “I just think he’s a little …” I gesture with the bottle. “Beige.”

Why am I insulting a man I don’t even know? I’m being pathetic. No, fuck that. I’m being protective. Denver has been through hell, and maybe if she’d had a friend a year ago, she wouldn’t have married Ranger. I could be the friend that saves her from another crappy relationship.

“Beige,” she repeats, and I nod. “Elaborate.”

“Well, for one, I could beat him up.”

She laughs loudly. “Wow.”

“What? I could. And he didn’t recognize my name, which means he’s massively uninformed, and therefore … beige.”

Denver claps slowly. “Congratulations on sounding both arrogant and nonsensical at the same time. I bet his wife thinks he’s lovely.”

I pause the bottle at my lips. “Wife.”

“Yes, he’s on his honeymoon,” she says. “He invited me for coffee to meet her. He thinks we’ll get along.”

I finish the bottle of water while she watches me, and then wet my lips, placing the empty bottle down. “Good for him.”

She turns on her heel and walks out. “You’re a jerk.”

But I’m smiling. Smiling like a jerk. Because she isn’t meeting Noah Merrick for a date, and that shouldn’t make me feel good, but it does. My smile vanishes when she comes back into the room.

“Why do you care?”

“Care?”

“Yes.” She puts her hands on her hips, frowning. “Why do you care if I go for coffee with Noah Merrick?”

“I don’t. Do coffee with him. Even though coffee isn’t a verb.”

She narrows her eyes and closes the space between us. “You cared before you found out he was married.”

I run my tongue over my teeth and shrug. “His marital status has zero bearing on my dislike for him. My issue is he was in no way good enough for you, and I could see that.”