Their Boy (The Game 2)

He planted his hands on the counter and leaned in, kissing me slowly instead of saying anything. I slipped my hands up his chest, feeling the muscles underneath his tee, and locked my arms around his neck.

I think I’m in love with you.

Was I crazy? Was it even possible? It’d only been a month, yet my feelings for Colt and Lucas terrified me.

“Wine kisses are the only wine I drink.” I sucked on his bottom lip and earned myself a chuckle, and then he deepened the kiss. One of his hands went up and down my thigh in sensual strokes, and the other came up to my neck. He was such an amazing kisser.

Colt hummed and pulled me closer to him. “Do you hear the song?”

Song? No. I was lost in Colt. But if I concentrated… Yes, I heard it, and I knew exactly which one it was. Country music produced some sweet romantic songs too, ones where they didn’t even mention alcohol or heartbreak.

This particular song, I’d heard before. Lucas played it in the car sometimes, and he’d told me of the significance. “If we have a song, it’s this one,” he’d said. “It captures Colt and me, and it did that years before it was even released.”

“It’s your song.” I broke the kiss and breathed heavily, dropping my forehead to Colt’s shoulder.

The man sang of love that went beyond the grave, that when the good Lord called him home, he’d take that love with him.

“Luke told you?” Colt was surprised.

I nodded, unsure of how to feel. It wasn’t envy, far from it. Just…a desperate need to share that with them. My chest hurt. My heart hurt. Underneath my hand, Colt’s own heart beat rapidly.

“Kit,” he murmured. I swallowed hard, and he lifted my chin and kissed me again. And then he smiled, and I wanted to slap him. I didn’t know why. All I knew was that I felt so damn exposed. “My beautiful boy.” He kissed me hard and cupped my jaw, then rested our foreheads together. “You should enjoy what’s happening, baby. I know it’s scary, but we’re not going anywhere.”

I knitted my brows and searched his eyes. Was he… I mean, what exactly was he saying?

He smiled and smoothed down the crease between my eyebrows. “You’ll get it soon. I promise. In the meantime, don’t be afraid. Trust us.”

“Okay,” I whispered. He’d left me confused as hell, but I did trust him. Both of them. If they told me not to be afraid, I was going to try to relax. “I trust you.”

“Good.” He gave me one more kiss. “How about we eat in the living room?”

My eyes lit up as relief pummeled me, and I caught the glint of amusement and happiness in his expression.

Did he understand?

“Yes, please,” I answered. “I promise I won’t spill.”

He chuckled.* * *He was a little less amused a couple days later when we overslept and got on the road late to pick up Abel and Madigan at the airport.

“Daddy, can you drive faster?” I asked.

“You want me to ram the car in front of us?” Colt shot me a sleepy, annoyed look in the rearview. “I didn’t think so.”

“Hmpf.” I fell back against my seat and folded my arms over my chest. Abel and Madigan had landed, and I bet they were hungry for breakfast. Lucas was back home right now preparing eggs and muffins and bacon and pancakes for us. Or as Colt had called it, about half of the things Lucas aced in the kitchen.

“Don’t give me attitude, Kit,” Daddy warned.

Crap. I chewed on my lip and wrung my hands. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmpf.” He sounded like me there.

Perhaps it was my good mood because I was seeing my friend in a few minutes, but something made me want to…poke.

He may be tired, but he hadn’t been too tired to give me a big spiel earlier about “kids riding in the back.” To be honest, he was just overprotective of his car. Lucas had explained that Colt had hated their old one, which Lucas had already had when they met. So when it was time to buy a new one, all Lucas had asked was that Colt didn’t pick a truck. In a very wry tone, Lucas had told me, “Of course he went out and found the biggest gas-guzzling SUV we could afford.”

Lucas let me ride in the front when he drove, though.

“Daddy, I feel like being bratty,” I informed Colt politely. It was his cue to either leave the door open or shut it down.

“I dare you,” he yawned. “If you think I’m a Sadist already, try raisin’ hell before I’ve had my coffee.”

I covered my mouth with my hand and giggled.

He must’ve heard me anyway, because he shot me a wink in the rearview. Then he promptly yawned again.