I let that last comment slide and focused on drying off instead. I was just about to panic at the thought of racing back downstairs to retrieve my own clothes from the deck when Colt held out a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. I took them, smiling with relief now that I wouldn’t have to face poor Mrs. Claire—or anyone else who happened to be here by now—mostly naked for the second time.
I hopped down the stairs, holding the waistband of the pants tightly in my free hand as I clung to the oak bannister with the other. If I did manage to fall, there was no way I’d keep my dignity and my modesty at the same time. By the time I made it to the kitchen counter to dig through my bag, the leg holes had fallen all the way past my feet, making it impossible to walk gracefully.
“Shit!” I muttered under my breath when I picked up the phone. Six missed calls from Diana, and my phone only had 12% battery left. I looked through my bag for my charger and panicked when I remembered it must be all the way back in my car. I fired off a quick text to let her know I’d call her as soon as I plugged in, but the phone rang under my fingers. I accidentally answered it, and cringed.
“Meredith? Oh my god, are you all right? Why weren’t you answering?” Diana screeched.
Fortunately, it was her concerned voice, not her, “you missed a deadline and now I’m going to eat your soul,” voice.
“Yes, sorry. My phone’s almost dead, my car is actually dead, and I couldn’t—”
“Wait, wait, start over. Your car is dead? Where are you?”
“Um...I’m still...in Texas,” I answered, hedging my reply. It wasn’t an outright lie, after all. This was certainly Texas. My mama always said you didn’t have to tell all you know…
“Yes, I know you’re in Texas! But where are you right now? Are you safe? Tell me you’re not sleeping in that car of yours! This isn’t a hurricane in the South Pacific, we have hotels here, you know!”
Diana’s voice rose in pitch at the thought of me sleeping on the side of a road in the middle of nowhere. I’d tried before to tell her that Texas has big cities and mid-sized towns, that it’s not all desert scrub and tumbleweeds like she envisioned.
“Well, I’m actually at Mr. Stone’s home,” I said calmly, waiting for the wrath. Instead, there was an eerie, endless silence. I finally looked to my phone screen to make sure it hadn’t died. “Hello? Diana?”
“I’m here,” she answered coolly. “So, you’re at Mr. Stone’s house. I might have my time zones off a little, but isn’t it awfully early to be back at the subject’s residence? Or… does that mean you never left yesterday?”
Shit! I thought, my mind racing for an answer. I hated to do it, but there was no way the truth was gonna go over well.
“Of course not, Diana. What are you implying?” I demanded, trying to sound sternly professional. “I told you, my car died. I’m back here trying to get someone to come out and fix it so I can get the hell outta here.”
I turned around and froze at the sight of Colt’s face. His expression was a mixture of embarrassment and hurt. I shook my head frantically, but it was too late. He placed a phone charger on the counter behind me and walked out of the room softly.
“Colt, wait!” I called out after Diana finally stopped tripping over herself to apologize and I’d managed to hang up.
As if I already didn’t feel bad enough for lying, my boss had to go and be so awesome as to beg for my forgiveness. That was already enough to make me repent, but knowing that Colt had heard me was a stab to the heart.
I saw a flash of movement out the windows facing east and looked out to see Colt walking towards his barn. The back deck was the fastest route, so I hurried outside, closing my eyes with a shot of embarrassment when I saw the neatly folded piles of his and hers discarded clothing sitting on the foot of the chaise, along with a folded blanket. I briefly wondered how many times his poor housekeeper had had to take on that chore, but shook it off and followed after him.
“Colt!” I called out again when I reached the barn, peering around the wide open door to look into the darkened space. “You in here?”
“Back here,” he said, his voice muffled from where he stood behind a large pile of hay. He stood up straight and hefted a large black toolbox from the ground, then walked past me. I jumped back as he passed, then took two steps to every one of his as I tried to keep up.
“Listen, I want to explain…”
“There’s nothing to explain,” he said over his shoulder. “I got my tools, I’ll go take a look at your junk heap. You know, so you can get the hell outta here.” Colt shot me a knowing look and continued walking.
I had half a mind to just let him go, but I was too pissed to think about that. Even if I had meant it, he certainly wasn’t looking for something long term with me. It was just a fling thing that just happened.
I came down here on assignment and did something reckless. It had been awesome and amazing and hot, and something that we both obviously wanted, but reckless just the same. And now he wants to play high and mighty because he heard me covering my ass to my boss?
No way. Besides, no one calls Beatrix a junk heap.
“Where do you get off being pissy? You want me to let my boss know that I stayed the night with my interviewee, half-naked on his deck? I mean, come on!” I demanded, balling my fists indignantly. I tried to walk towards him but the long sweatpants made that difficult.
And then… Colt laughed. Not like snickered at me, but actually dropped what he was holding, threw back his head, and laughed. I was still trying to stop fuming and catch my breath when he doubled over, one gloved hand clutching his stomach, the other one balancing against his knee.
“What’s so funny?” I demanded, stopping just short of stomping my foot.
“You are, honey,” he purposefully lengthened his drawl as I had done mimicking him. “Now that’s one thing about you that hasn’t changed!” He laughed some more, and then tried to suddenly turn serious again. That only ended up making him choke back another laugh as he tried to keep a straight face, bringing tears to his eyes. He cleared his throat and said, “Sorry, I wasn’t meaning to laugh at you. But your little tantrum was so cute!”
“Oh, my outrage is funny to you?”