Page 13 of Fixing to be Mine (Valentine Texas #5)

He grins, glancing out the window. “Yeah. I’m surprised you didn’t assume. You know, with all the Texan jokes floating around. Most think we take our horses to school.”

I snicker. “Did you?”

“We sometimes did,” he admits, handing me a fresh cup.

There’s a long pause.

“So, Tessa … she’s very pretty,” I offer because it’s true.

“So are rattlesnakes,” he replies without missing a beat. “They’ll still kill you.”

That earns a full-on laugh from me, and I notice how his eyes soften at the sound . It does something to me, and I’m suddenly aware of how natural it feels, being with him.

“Are blondes your type?” I ask, halfway teasing, but I genuinely want to know.

“Smart and confident is my type,” he says. “Wanting to know if you’re my type?”

My mouth parts, but I can’t answer. It’s too direct. He’s right, it’s not something I’m used to experiencing with men.

“You are,” he confirms. “Sassy little brunettes drive me fucking crazy.”

“When I leave, will you be running back to her now that she seems interested again?” As soon as the words are out, I wince. “Sorry. That’s none of my business. You don’t have to answer that.”

He stares at me, like he’s trying to figure me out. “And what if the answer was yes?”

My stomach tightens. I don’t like the idea of him carrying any emotions for her, especially not when he’s looking at me with so much adoration in his eyes that I can’t unsee it.

“Wait, is that jealousy?” he asks, but I have a feeling he already knows the answer.

“Maybe.” I shrug. “But she’s not the one standing in your kitchen, wearing your shirt, now is she? Or the one sleeping in your bed.”

His brow lifts. “You’re a tiger.”

“If you only knew.”

“Actually, after that little show you put on this morning, I think I’ve got a pretty good idea. Now, how about some breakfast? I’m in the mood for some corned beef hash,” he says, and I know a subject change when I hear one.

“What’s that?”

“A Southern delicacy,” he says, grabbing a cast iron skillet from the cabinet and a carton of eggs from the fridge. “I’ll make you some. If you hate it, I’ll cook something else.”

I watch him work, taking in the way he moves like this space is his kingdom—barefoot, half dressed, ridiculously attractive. My fingers drift to the cover of the journal he gave me. My thumb traces the edge of it.

He looks back at me. “Go ahead. I know you want to ask me a million questions right about now. I can handle it.”

I hesitate, but he’s right. I do have a lot of questions. “Was she really the love of your life?”

“At one point, I would’ve said yes, but I now realize our relationship was built on lies, so I don’t feel like it counts,” he says as the pan sizzles.

“We dated for three years, and I thought I’d marry her.

Luckily, I figured out she was dishonest before she had the chance to ruin my life.

Some things you can’t ever come back from, no matter how pretty you are.

Once my trust is broken, it’s never the same. ”

“I understand that.” Guilt washes over me because I’ve said certain things to protect myself.

He turns back to the skillet. “I don’t have feelings for her and would never ever, ever get back together with her. I told myself I wouldn’t date again unless certain criteria were met.”

Now my curiosity is piqued. “Like?”

“I have to feel the spark. You know that underlying current that drives you insane?”

I nod, knowing what he’s referring to. “The one that puts you in a complete choke hold?”

“That’s the one,” he admits, his voice rough and sexy. “There has to be a mutual attraction. No one-sided bullshit. I can’t do that again. Sex drives must match. I’m not looking for a fling when I want forever.”

My brows lift. “And what’s your number one nonnegotiable?”

“If I’m in a relationship with someone, I don’t do guessing games. I need someone emotionally available. I don’t need polished or perfect. I want something real, someone I can spend forever with. What about you?”

“I want the same things,” I whisper. “I need freedom to say what I mean without being gaslit, guilted, or minimized for it. I need a partner who can commit.”

He smirks. “Sounds like I’m your man.”

“Oh, you’d better stop,” I tell him.

“I’ve learned that some men are highly intimidated by strong women. Not me. I’m secure and encourage boss bitches.”

I take a sip of coffee, and the warmth spreads through me. “There are times I feel like I’m too much and other times when I’m not enough. It’s a very hard place to be in,” I admit for the first time in my life.

“I think you’re perfect the way you are,” he says.

“You don’t have to say that.”

He moves toward me. I stand in front of him, and he places his hands on my shoulders, staring into my eyes.

“Be yourself while you’re here. Your true self. The one you hide from everyone else.”

His thumb brushes against my lower lip, and I’m lost in the morning haze with him.

“What are you doing to me?” I ask, scared I’ll lose myself in his spell.

“It’s you, not me,” he says with a grin, then focuses on the sizzling skillet.

I let out a ragged breath and return to my seat, glancing at the journal. I could fill it full of everything in my head right now.

Colt cracks an egg and drops it in the hot pan.

“My little brother Emmett is a playboy, but he’s not a fool.

Tessa kept making moves on him when I wasn’t around.

So, Emmett, being Emmett, set her up. Told her to meet him in a hotel in Alpine, wearing some lingerie he had bought for her.

Only it wasn’t Emmett who walked into the room that night.

” He shakes his head. “You should’ve seen the look on her face. ”

My breath catches as I realize the betrayal and understand how horrible it feels.

“He never fucked her. But he could have. It would’ve wrecked my relationship with my brother.

She only cared about herself,” he adds quietly.

“That’s unforgivable behavior. Our entire relationship would’ve had that stain on it.

She tried to twist the narrative, but I no longer believed a word she fed me. To think I almost married her.”

His words hang in the air like Texas heat.

“I’m glad you didn’t,” I say.

“Me too,” Colt says, flipping the egg. “Had I married Tessa, I wouldn’t have met you. My girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend. Kinda like the way you say it.”

“Yeah?” He rubs a hand over his jaw and grabs a spatula. “Keep it up, and engagement rumors will be next.”

I’m like a teenager with their first crush. How is that even possible?

“I didn’t mean to start anything. Small-town rumors are outside of my wheelhouse,” I say. Even though I’ve dealt with rumors about myself on a national scale, this still has me more nervous.

Colt leaning against the counter short-circuits my nervous system. “Could’ve fooled me. You wrapped your arm around me like you owned me.”

“It’s called improvising,” I explain.

“Yeah?” He glances back. “You gave her all the proof she needed. And something tells me you’re not the type to stir up drama unless it serves a purpose.”

“Only when it’s strategically beneficial. Which is why I’ve decided I’ll only be here until next weekend.”

His smile fades before I even finish the sentence.

“That’s less than two weeks. Why?”

“I need to go home and settle some things.”

There’s a pause, but he doesn’t push.

“And where’s home?” Colt asks.

I hesitate—not because I’m hiding, but because saying it aloud makes it real. “New York City.”

His eyebrows lift. “City girl. I knew it.”

I smile at him as he processes that piece of information like he’s trying to figure out what it means.

“And what happens when you return to NYC?” he asks.

“I confront the ones who hurt me,” I say honestly.

The thought of confronting Donovan and Skye makes me physically ill.

“Your sister?” he asks.

“She’s on the list.”

“Speaking your truths to those who hurt you is needed so you can get closure. It doesn’t matter if they accept what you have to say or not. If you ever want to talk, I’m a real good listener, and I’m a vault. Nothing will ever be repeated, I promise,” he says, pulling two plates from the cabinet.

“Thank you.” I glance down at the journal. “I hope writing it helps.”

“I hope so too. I’ve kept a journal since I was a teenager. Not because I wanted to, but it’s how I earned my allowance. My mama told me if I wrote in my journal every day, she’d give me one hundred dollars every single month, so I kept up with it for years. Earned several thousand.”

I smile wide. “I already love her.”

Colt grabs his coffee. “I think my mama would love you too. She appreciates a fighting spirit.”

Before I can reply, his phone starts ringing from the living room—he must have left it there last night before he joined me.

“And so it begins.” He sighs as he walks away.

I sip my coffee, trying not to think too hard about what he’s shared.

“This is Colt,” he says.

There’s a beat of silence as he heads back toward the kitchen, and his voice gets louder.

“My girlfriend? Yeah. Dinner tonight? Shit, I almost forgot.”

My eyes snap up, and I whisper, “What the hell?”

He winks at me like he’s enjoying this a little too much as the food sizzles in the pan. It smells delicious.

“Yeah, it was gonna be a surprise,” he says into the phone, grinning, and I can hear a woman talking. “She’ll be there. Remi told you about her? Yeah. Mmhmm. Gorgeous. Prettiest woman I’ve ever seen.”

Another pause, then a low chuckle. I realize I’m blushing.

“All right, Kins. Tell Mama I want apple pie with Bluebell. I don’t care if you do a love reading, but I don’t want to hear about it. Okay. Okay. Bye. You hang up first! Bye!”

He listens to her for another minute, then ends the call. He sets his phone on the counter like my actions didn’t change the trajectory of my time here.

“And who was that?” I ask.

“My older sister, Kinsley. She works for the newspaper and hears all the local drama. Apparently, I was the talk of the diner this morning. Someone was asking whose Camaro was parked outside my house. Kathy, the lady who works at the motel in town, told them it was a woman from New York City. Did you know we’d met on the internet and you’re moving to Valentine to be with me?

” he asks, totally unbothered. “Probably where Tessa heard it from.”

“That’s what’s spreading around?” I blink at him.

“Yep,” he says, laughing. “Ridiculous. By Sunday, I’m sure they’ll move to us being engaged.”

“Oh God, and you told your sister I’m joining you for dinner?”

“You threw your arm around me this morning and called yourself my girlfriend. What’s a man supposed to do?”

I gasp. “I don’t know. Deny it?”

“Not my style,” he says, stepping closer. “I’m following your lead.”

The air shifts. Silence stretches between us.

My body says yes. My heart flinches. My head says run.

“I, um …”

“Cat got your tongue?” he asks. “It’s ten days. What’s the worst that could happen?”

My heart kicks up. “Faking out your ex is one thing. Pretending for your family? That’s a whole other level.”

“Don’t act,” he says. “Be yourself.”

“You’re too confident about this.”

“Says the woman who stormed into my life like she had been made for it.” His voice is wrapped in that slow drawl I’m starting to crave. “It will be an adventure.”

I exhale, but I’m smiling now. He’s right; I won’t be here for very long.

Colt brushes past me to grab something from the pantry, and I love the way he smells like mountain air.

“Don’t you think we should set some ground rules?” I ask after seeing goose bumps form on my skin. I try to rub them away.

“My only rule is to be yourself,” he says with a box of pancake mix in his hands. He pulls a waffle maker from a cabinet. “The rest will figure itself out. It always does.”

I roll my eyes. “This could be a disaster.”

“Disaster?” He winks. “Nah. It’ll be a moment. Trust the process.”

He mixes batter like he doesn’t have a worry in the world.

“Okay, but I have rules too,” I say, narrowing my eyes.

“Gimme ’em.”

As soon as the batter hits the hot waffle press, the room fills with the scent of sugary sweetness.

“But know that the second you say no touching or no flirting, I’m gonna have to do those things.”

My brows furrow. “You can’t be serious.”

“I’m a Valentine, babe,” he says, grinning. “We’re rule breakers. That’s why it’s safer not to have any.”

I sigh. “Okay, so what about PDA? That’s a line we shouldn’t fake.”

“You’re right. Hand-holding is innocent enough. That’ll get the point across at the rodeo.”

“The rodeo?!” I repeat. “I didn’t agree to that.”

He shrugs like it’s obvious. “Okay, but how else am I supposed to introduce my girl to the whole town at once?”

I stare at him. He called me his girl, and I like it.

“I cannot fall in love with you, Colt Valentine,” I say, mostly to myself.

“Then don’t kiss me. That’s when the curse kicks in.”

I look at him like he’s out of his mind.

“The curse?”

“Yeah, it’s a Valentine thing. I have a way of gettin’ under women’s skin and stayin’ there for a long damn time, and all it takes is one kiss. Why do you think Tessa showed up today? I’ve not been with anyone since her, and she’s threatened that I might be moving on.”

“Are you?” I ask.

“Darlin’, I think you hold the answer to that question, not me.”

He grins, and I hate what it does to me.

“I can’t answer that.”

“One day, you will,” he encourages.

As I sit in his kitchen as he makes me breakfast, this begins to feel like the start of something unraveling.

A week and a half of hand-holding, rodeos, family dinners, and pretending I’m not attracted to the most irresistible man who’s too young for me will be fine … said no runaway bride ever. But even so, moving forward with him feels like everything I need in my life right now.