Best Friends Forever

I slowly trudged across the gravel rock garden, shouldering my bag and trying to quiet my nerves. No matter how much I’d begged, Diana simply wouldn’t give me a different assignment.

“You’re from the area, aren’t you?” my editor had asked with a smile. “Why would I send someone who doesn’t know the special ins and outs of the region, someone who doesn’t understand what makes Texas special? Besides, I’ll throw in a couple of days to see your family while you’re down there, covered by your expense account. Take a side trip when you’re done with this interview.”

I had smiled weakly and nodded my head like I was grateful for this opportunity, but inside I was torn between dread and gratitude. Chicago was pretty far from home and I didn’t make it back to visit nearly often enough, but that’s the thing… there would be no need for a side trip or an expense account. Not when my childhood house was sitting two ranches over.

I climbed up Colt Stone’s familiar porch steps and took a few deep breaths, fighting back the nerves that made me feel slightly nauseous. I pressed the buzzer and smiled a little at the soft chimes that signaled someone was at the door, then waited.

And waited.

Just as I was about to lean over and peek in a window for any signs of life, the door flew open and a gorgeous, presumably naked man nearly filled the frame. He was dripping wet and wearing only a small white towel, its twisted end dangerously close to sliding out of the muscular V-shaped trail at his waist.

“What do you...oh. Shit. That’s today, isn’t it?” the man asked, looking first at my face and then my camera bag.

He recovered slightly, long enough to let his eyes slide up my petite curvy frame, then rest on my face. His eyes narrowed slightly for a moment, as if he knew me and was trying to place my name.

“Um, if you mean our interview, then yes. Yes, it is. I’m Meredith Banks,” I said, holding out my hand and pretending I wasn’t looking right at someone I’d known for years.

The man never moved, never took his hand off the door. Instead of shaking my hand, he stared at me knowingly.

“Wait a minute. No, you’re not. You’re Meredith Forbes. I’d know that red hair and little girl’s pout anywhere.” Colt still didn’t move or invite me inside, staring at me intensely instead with a look that bordered on annoyance. “What are you doing all the way out here?”

“I’m here to interview you for Elite Design Digest, remember?” I replied, somewhat confused by his reaction. I turned my shoulder towards him to show him my equipment bag.

“No, I get it, the interview. But why are you here?”

“Dang it, Colt. Did you get kicked in the head too many times? I’m the person doing your interview,” I answered, trying to keep my voice light but growing more and more frustrated with every passing second.

“And you were just gonna show up here, just like that, no phone call first to say ‘Hey, how’s it been going, it’s been a long time, I’ll be coming by to see you,’ nothing like that?” I could sense the irritation in Colt’s voice, but chose not to respond. He finally stepped aside and held the door open wider, which I took for his invitation to come in.

“I didn’t really have anything to say ahead of time, Colt.”

I turned around and pinned him back with my best interviewer smile, refusing to look at his naked chest. I couldn’t help myself, though, not after a flicker of movement forced my gaze to land on a few drops of water that fell from his disheveled hair and slid down his muscular torso, picking up speed as they slid over each ridge of his hard abs.

“Still, you go off to that big city college and never say another word to anybody—”

“Me?” I said, surprising even myself at how close I’d just come to yelling at him. “You’re the one who left, Colt. I was just a kid who still played tea party with my stuffed animals when I thought no one was looking, but you took off for the Army to go get yourself killed. You did my brother wrong the way you just packed up and took off! You two were supposed to be best friends! And all you did was make him feel like a coward for not following along behind you.”

“Bryant? He didn’t want anything to do with the military, since he had a football scholarship. Why should he have cared?” Colt fired back, but he knew the answer. “I’ve been Bryant’s best friend since kindergarten, and the only reason I didn’t tell anyone before I enlisted was I knew how easy it would have been for any one of y’all to talk me out of it. And trust me, there wasn’t a day gone by over there that I didn’t wish one of you hadn’t stopped me.”

Colt turned his back on me and padded into the kitchen, his feet leaving dark wet footprints across the stone floor. He reached into one of the oversized stainless steel fridges and pulled out a beer, flipped the cap into the sink, and took a long swig. He finally raised his eyebrows at me and held the cold bottle in my direction, but I shook my head.

“Never thought I’d see the day that I’d be offering little ‘Merry Forbes’ a beer,” he said with a quiet scoff.

“Ugh… no one has called me that in years,” I answered, automatically annoyed at my childhood nickname.

“For that matter, what’s with this ‘Meredith Banks’ crap? I’d have been happier to see you—and most likely wearing clothes—if I’d known you were the one coming to see me.”

Colt looked at me almost darkly, clearly expecting an explanation. I suppose that was the best he could do by way of an apology for the way he’d acted at the door. I only shrugged.

“My real name? It’s not a secret or anything, or that I don’t want anyone knowing what I do. A lot of journalists use a different byline, depending on who they write for. In my case, I just didn’t want anyone hearing the name ‘Forbes’ and thinking of that money magazine, and wondering if I only got my job because of a famous family connection. It’s not true, and as you know us Texas Forbes don’t have anything to do with those others, but people would still assume. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am to have people dismissing me as just another nepotism baby.”

“Makes sense, I ’spose. Still, it threw me for a loop. But look at you now. You’re not little old Mer Bear anymore, are you? Whatever they’re putting in the water in Chicago, it sure does change people,” Colt said, finally giving in to the temptation to take in the sight of me.

“Oh really?” I asked, an amused smirk on my face. “And what’s that they say about the Army making a man of you? You were just a puny kid with weird hair the last time I saw you. Between your funny looks and the fact that you and Bryant used to blow up all my Barbies with firecrackers, I wasn’t the least bit sorry to see you go. Now look at you. A grown man with a ranch of his own, turning the whole industry on its head with eco-farming… times sure do change.”

Sensing a natural start to the interview, I set my bag down on the granite countertop, fished out my camera once again, and retrieved a small notebook and pen. I placed those next to a small digital recorder while Colt looked on warily.

“So is that it? We’re getting down to business? ’Cause I’ve got to admit, I ain’t wearing any pants.” He shot me a look and leaned back against the countertop, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement made his biceps naturally flex, and I had to take a breath to recover.