Page 171 of Colt

When Dean suggested we make sourdough bread for tomorrow morning’s French toast, Colt and I were immediately on board. I’ve wanted to learn how to make it ever since Colt mentioned he knew how.

More than that, I’ve wanted to taste it. I’ve only had homemade bread a couple of times before.

The counter is a mess of flour and water and sticky dough, but Dean and I still giggle as we incorporate the starter into the flour and water. Colt adds a good amount of kosher salt to the mix. Dean and I work the dough for a little bit longer before Colt gives my ass a discreet pinch. My blood leaps.

“I think that should do it,” he says.

I hold up my hands, which are covered in dough. “Not fair. I can’t pinch you back.”

“Dad pinched you?” Dean’s brows snap together. “Dad, that’s not very nice of you.”

Colt’s lips twitch. “Sometimes Lainey likes it when I’m not nice.”

“Why?” Dean is clearly very confused by this.

To be fair, I was also confused about it for a while. But now I think it’s just plain hot when he throws it back to our enemies-with-benefits era.

Leaning in, I kiss Colt’s mouth. His scruff is always scruffier in the mornings, and it catches on my chin and cheeks.

I love it.

“Because that’s just how your dad is sometimes,” I say.

Dean shakes his head, but he’s grinning again. “You guys are gross.”

“So gross.” Colt covers the bowl and places it beside the stove. “All right, this needs some time to rest for a bit. Y’all did an awesome job.”

Turning, he gets the faucet going. Dean and I wash our hands together, agreeing that kissing is gross but that his dad is pretty good at it, so sometimes I like to do it. But only sometimes.

“You promise you’ll make French toast tomorrow morning, Dad? Please please please?”

Colt chuckles, pressing a kiss to my nape before he passes a towel to Dean. “I promise. Now how about we relax for a little bit, and then we can⁠—”

“Ride!” Dean shrieks as he wipes his hands on the towel. “Yes! Lainey, you’re going to come, right? You’re getting so good at it. Even Auntie Billie said you were a natural.”

“And we know what a tough judge she is,” Colt says with a whistle. “Lainey, you got a lot to be proud of.”

To be honest, I am proud.

We snuggle on the couch by the fire and watch—what else—Frozen. Colt slips his hand inside my shirt and rubs my back. His fingers inch closer and closer to my breasts.

Lifting my head, I cut him a look.

“What?” He smirks.

“You know what. You’re trying to—well, you know.” Get me riled up again.

Colt lifts his shoulder. “Can you blame me? You know I like it in the mornings.”

“Like what?” Dean asks from his perch on the floor, where he’s been playing with a car-themed LEGO set while watching the movie.

“Coffee,” Colt says.

“Snuggles,” I say at the same time.

Dean ignores us, turning back to his LEGO set.

Later, we drive over to the stables. I’m saving my new pair of Bellamy Brooks boots for the Rattler tonight. Frisky Whiskey agreed to do a doubleheader for the holiday season, so they’re playing Friday and Saturday nights this weekend. I can’t wait to see them again.