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And there it is. What I’ve known all along and had maybe even been jealous of if I’m being honest with myself. In his own way, a way that only Tyson Miller can, he loves Libby.
25
Strolling the French Market by myself is rejuvenating. There’s always a chance I run into Jett anytime I’m in public, but I’d be willing to bet that if I did, he’d keep to himself. He wouldn’t risk getting a right hook from Colt again.
Colt. The man I didn’t see coming, but would love to get more of. It’s rare that I’m not thinking about him. His eyes… that kiss. So much life poured into me as soon as our lips met. It was overwhelming and dizzying. If my headspace hadn’t been so bleak during the days leading up to it, I wouldn’t have freaked out on the poor guy. But the night we shared and the next morning wiped so much of that away. Enough to agree to a faux marriage.
Colt was worried he’d scared me away. I’m assuming from knowing my past. But I’m not too lost in my childhood trauma to know the difference between someone abusing, and someone defending another. Knowing someone is willing to go to battle for me brings a newfound freedom that I’ve never been privy to. And I’d be lying if I said I’m not enjoying it. More than that, though, I’m enjoying the man that has given me said freedom. I just wish it was enough to give him more of myself. The fake marriage is risky enough, and I've already found myself slipping too many times.
Who knew that planning a future could be so fun? I just need to keep in mind that it’s not a real future. We still haven’t found a place to live yet. It makes the most sense for me to move to New Orleans, since Colt’s business is there and I can be a hairdresser anywhere. But that means we’d have to go out and find a place together since he lives with Tyson. It’s not like I can just drop into his place and fall back to Blake when we get fake divorced.
We’d have our place, which I’m worried will only play into my delusion more. I mean, sure, Colt is into me now. But he himself proposed this as a fake marriage, which means it can’t last forever. Eventually, we will go our separate ways. And it’s for the best. I’ve already trusted someone too much, only to get burned. I don’t know that I have it in me to fully trust someone again. And what’s a marriage if you can’t trust the person you’re with one hundred percent?
A stand of home made candles catches my attention. I’ve always been a sucker for a good smell. Lilacs, roses, and lilies are easily my top three. Not only are they refreshing, but they remind me of my mother. Back when I was still small enough to climb into her lap. When that was my safe haven, when my dad was on a rampage. I can still feel her arms squeeze around me as I bury my face in her neck. Her blonde hair always smelled like a meadow.
It’s crazy what the mind will hold on to. How I’ll still stop and smell all the floral scents. Even though that time in my life, when my mother was my protector, was short-lived. Before I became the threat, the issue, the enemy.
A pair of hands slide over my eyes and I freeze. But the floral scent from the candles is soon replaced by my new favorite smell — mint, vanilla, and tobacco. My shoulders slack as I lean into the solid form behind me. A soft rumble vibrates against my back as Colt chuckles.
“Guess I don’t need to ask you to guess who?” He slides his hands to my lower back as I spin around to face him.
“What are you doing here?” The butterflies in my stomach start to dance. The chances of running into him on a random Saturday in New Orleans were slim, but I’m happy the odds were in my favor.
“Well, I was trying to get some flowers for a certain pretty girl,” he boops my nose. “But I found something much better.”
I scrunch my brows. “What pretty girl are you getting flowers for?” I know this game, but the jealousy that stirs at the mere thought of a fictional other woman puts a nasty taste in my mouth. This isn't real.
Colt reaches toward a table behind him and grabs a bouquet that he must have laid down before covering my eyes and puts them behind his back. “Pretend you didn’t see that.” I giggle as he clears his throat as we start our encounter over. “Hi Libs,” he says as he looks more intently into my eyes and lowers his voice. “I’ve missed you.”
The butterflies are trying to escape at this point. “I’ve missed you, too. But you didn’t need to get me flowers just for that.”
He beams, turning my insides even mushier. “What better time is there than to tell my wife I miss her?” he asks and it chokes me up a little. He really is playing into this whole thing. “I was hoping to get lucky enough to convince my you to hang out with me for a few hours.”
“Is that so?” I ask, trying my best to not sound too excited.
“Sure is. Think I could talk you into going to lunch with me?” There’s no way I’d ever be able to tell him no. Not when he looks at me like I hold all the answers to every secret he’s ever wanted to know.
“I’m sure I could be convinced.” I loop my arm through his as we start to walk, not sure either of us knows where we are going.
“I like the sound of that.”
I’ve been better lately about not shying away from everything, and there’s something about being in public with Colt that makes me want to make a scene. I want all the attention on us. I want everyone to see who he’s with and how he looks at me. What it boils down to is that Colt gives me a confidence that I haven’t had in a long time, if ever.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
I look up from mindlessly stirring my soup to find him resting his head in his hand, eyes on me. “I don’t want to tell you.” It’s too embarrassing to say out loud, especially to him.
“And why is that?” One of my favorite things about this man is that he never pushes me. To talk, to open up, to do anything. Well, except to give him direct answers when it comes to consent. Which I think I now understand a little more since learning about his sister.
“Because it’s embarrassing and I don't want you to think differently of me,” I say while looking back down at my soup.
Colt reaches across the table and places his hand on top of mine. “There isn’t a thing on this earth that would make me not like you, Libs.” I meet his gaze and immediately wish I hadn’t. Every time he looks at me, it’s like he’s looking directly into my soul. I want to look away, worried what will happen if I linger too long, but that’s easier said than done. “In fact, every single bit of you that you let me see only makes me like you even more.”
There’s no way he doesn’t hear how fast my heart is pounding. Hell, there’s no way this entire restaurant doesn’t hear it. Feeling my cheeks burn, I decide to play into his blatant honesty, instead of shy away from it. “I was thinking how I like being in public with you.” Colt cocks his head to the side ever so slightly, and a playful grin creeps onto his face. “But I need to not care because this is only temporary.” I manage to shut myself up before I sound like an even bigger idiot.
“Elizabeth Clark, are you saying you like people thinking we’re together?” Oh, my god. I take it back. Cancel the confidence. I don’t want it anymore. This was an awful idea. He leans in closer to me and lowers his voice. “Mind if I share a secret of my own?” I can only manage a nod, not trusting my voice to form words. “One of my favorite things is being able to show you off.” Wetting his lips, his eyes trail down me before finding mine again. “And if I had it my way, everyone would know that you are mine.”
The zing shoots from my stomach to my toes, but I don’t have time to acknowledge it before Colt grabs my chin and pulls me the rest of the way into him. Our eyes meet for only a moment, and then his lips are on mine. It’s strong, but gentle. Tame, but passionate. Delicate, but all-consuming. It doesn’t take me long to realize what he’s doing — he’s having it his way.
