Best Friend's Ex Box Set

Dexter had been the one to ruin that for me. If he bought flowers, he expected sex. If he took me out to dinner, he expected sex. He expected sex in return for everything, to the point that I felt drained most of the time. The day I had enough of giving into his demands was the day he had posted those photos on the internet with links for our close friends to see, including his good pals.

Bitterness swelled in my chest. It wasn’t fair sometimes. My life back in Portland had been good, but after Dexter, I was stuck in a place I’d never wanted to be to begin with. No matter how much I appreciated and cared for Tiffany and Colt, the barn burning had been hard to deal with. I was still tempted to pack up and drive back to Portland, and admit to everyone that I failed to implement my dream, even after telling them I would prove everyone wrong.

The side door to the kitchen opened. I turned to face Colt and instantly wished that I hadn’t as he closed the door. Sweat dripped off every inch of his well-sculpted chest, toned abs, and those broad shoulders.

My throat clenched as lust bubbled in my veins. I couldn’t look away no matter how many times I told myself to. I followed a single sweat drop as it trailed down his toned stomach, disappearing into a trail of hair that disappeared below the waistband of his jeans.

I tore my eyes away to look up at Colt’s face and found his eyes focused on me. A smirk tugged at his lips, and not just any smirk. One filled with the pride of a man who knows he is appreciated.

“Dinner is just a

bout done,” I squeaked out, turning away to hide my burning cheeks. “You, um, you’ve just got time to shower.”

“I suppose I should.”

He stopped briefly to look in the oven before continuing past me. Adjusting the shirt that was tossed over his shoulder, Colt gave me one last burning look before disappearing around the corner. I held my breath until I heard the water turn on above.

What are you doing, Cheyenne? Gawking at him like he’s some piece of candy?

Humiliation filled me. At one point, I had told my mother that Colt was like one of the cowboys you saw on the cheesy romance novels at the grocery store. He was physically fit and strong from years of ranching. Nothing would ever take that away—even years in an office in the city apparently.

I pulled out the chicken to slice it up and set the moist and tender pieces on a platter. Colt appeared ten minutes later, right as I set the hot rolls on another platter. This time, thankfully, he was wearing a normal white t-shirt and a pair of sweats.

“This smells great,” he said, grabbing a plate without pause. “I’m starving. I didn’t expect a trip to the hospital would take the entire day.”

I waited for him to dish up his plate before I joined him at the dining table. My appetite was replaced by something else entirely, but the first bite of chicken brought back my hunger. I heard Colt breathe in sharply before sitting back in his chair, chewing thoughtfully as he did.

“You’re a good cook,” he said. “I never expected that for some reason.”

“You’re a better one, at least from what I’ve tasted at the restaurant,” I said. “The Iron Stallion has some of the best food on this side of Oregon. In my opinion, anyway.”

Colt chuckled lightly at that.

“I actually have a cook who does all the cooking. I just supplied my mother’s recipes after swearing him to secrecy for the rest of his life.”

“You’re a fraud then,” I said, grinning when he looked at me with arched eyebrows. “I was led to believe you were doing all the cooking.”

“I help with the prep work. That counts for something.”

“That counts for nothing unless you’re doing all the meals that come out of that kitchen of yours.”

“Don’t tell anyone in Green Point,” Colt replied, winking roguishly at me. “They might get a little disappointed if they knew truth about me being a fraud and all.”

“I’m sure the women would be.” I sat up suddenly when an idea struck me. “I have a suggestion because I know that Tiffany talked to you about using your restaurant for a fundraiser.”

“Right,” Colt said slowly. “I really don’t mind doing it at my restaurant. It’s not a big deal for me to give up a night of business to such a great cause.”

I waved his words away.

“It is though. Every female that I’ve talked to is interested in you, so—”

“Everyone?” he repeated skeptically.

“Every single one,” I assured him. “Anyway, what about a silent auction? The highest bidders get to have a private dinner right here with you. I can figure out the details once the insurance adjuster comes out, and we can figure how much it’ll cost to rebuild the barn and—”

“Whoa. Hold on a minute.” Colt held up his hand, frowning at me. He leaned forward in his chair. “Why can’t we do this at the restaurant?”

I looked around at the spacious dining room with hardwood floors, expensive paintings, and the high arching windows that overlooked the forest.