She doesn’t offer more information, and I don’t press. I sort of wonder if she wanted me to, if she wanted an excuse to talk about it, but I don’t play those kinds of social games. I’m not experienced enough with them. So, I just kind of have to take her at her word.
I still hope that I’ll become friends with her.That, I would like.
At lunchtime, the door to the shop opens, and I’m shocked when Colt walks in.
“Colt?”
“Sarah,” he says, grinning. “I thought we would run into each other at some point. Didn’t expect for it to be here.”
“Oh God,” Allison says. “What are you doing here?”
“Gentry asked me if I would bring you your lunch, you ungrateful varmint.”
Well. Clearly, their relationship isn’t a delightful, cordial one of a happy blended family. I pick that up from all the context clues.
I’m just so insightful.
“Why didn’t he do it himself?”
“He got called out to fight a fire.”
Her face immediately shifts to an expression of concern. “Oh.”
“It’s fine. He would let you know if there was anything dangerous.”
Colt leans on the display case, and Allison shoos him. “Don’t do that. You’ll leave an elbow print above the jewelry.”
“When did you start working here?” he asks me, ignoring Allison.
“It’s my first day,” I say.
“Well. That’s great. And how is living with Dallas?”
“Oh. Also great,” I say, and my face feels a little bit warm, in spite of everything.”
“My mom has a little rental cottage in town, if you ever want to live closer. If you ever need anything. Just let me know.”
Allison looks between the two of us, and I feel suddenly awkward. I can’t tell if Colt is trying to flirt with me. As part of my issues with certain social nuances, I have trouble figuring out if a man is actually interested in me when he’s normal and nice, and not a creep.
I’m used to five-alarm hair-raising experiences that make me want to shoot a man in the chest rather than lean in. That’s not this. But I’m also not entirely sure what to do with this.
“Here’s your lunch,” he says to Allison, passing it over the counter to her. “I’ve been told it’s a steak sandwich. You can chew on that instead of trying to gnaw my arm off for being nice.”
“You’re never nice,” she mutters.
“See you later,” he says to me, and walks out the door. Allison’s cheeks are vaguely pink.
“You know Colt?” she asks me.
“He’s friends with Dallas.”
“Yeah. My…Colt is my stepbrother. Our parents married each other when Colt was about sixteen. He’s the same age as my brother, Gentry. Gentry, Colt, and Dallas are Gold Valley’s own Three Cowboy Musketeers. Gentry doesn’t do the rodeo thing, though. He’s a wildland firefighter and a rancher.”
“Oh. That’s… cool.”
“Yeah. Except it scares me. But it’s still not as stupid as what Colt does.”
“Colt won. The last event. I was there.”
