Page 63 of Kicking Up Dust

“Yeah?” he says, but it sounds like a question.

I hum. “I gave you about a hundred opportunities to decide that you didn’t want to be around for the pregnancy and then a hundred more to choose whether or not you wanted to be in a relationship with me, regardless of me being pregnant, but maybe I didn’t make myself clear enough. When you said you were choosing to stay and then you set us up in a pretty little cabin and built me a porch swing bed and told me you wanted to marry me and have more babies, those offers expired.”

“Baby, I don’t understand⁠—”

I reach in my pocket and pull out his cell phone, shoving it against his chest.

“I don’t know who Melissa is or why she’s so excited to see you during the lunch break you told me you were working through today, but when you meet with her at noon, it better be the last time. You better let her know you’re a man that’s spoken for.”

Colt grins, his hand reaching up for his phone. He pulls it from my grip and pockets it, not even bothering to look at the screen as his arms wind around my waist. I shove at him, trying to push him away, but he only pulls me closer.

“You’re so fucking sexy when you’re jealous, mama,” he whispers against my ear, biting the lobe.

“I’m not joking, Colt. I’m not putting up with you cheating on me!”

He pulls back, dirty hands framing my cheeks as he looks into my angry eyes.

“I’d never cheat on you,” he says, serious despite the laughter in his eyes. “Melissa is my therapist. After my freak-out last night, I asked her to pencil me in for an appointment if she could.”

My breath hitches and I can feel my face growing hot in embarrassment at my overreaction. I should’ve just checked the text thread.

“You’re in therapy? How come you didn’t just tell me that instead of saying you were working through lunch?”

He shrugs, relocating his arms back around my waist.

“Sort of embarrassing, isn’t it? A grown man that needs to spill his guts twice a month to a doctor.”

I’d spent most of my childhood in therapy, so I could definitely understand the embarrassment, but there wasn’t any room for it here.

“A grown man who takes care of his mental health isn’t embarrassing. It’s hot.”

He snorts, a wry grin finding a place on his lips. “You think everything I do is hot.”

“Yeah, it’s really freaking annoying, actually.”

His grin only grows. “It’s not annoying. It’s hot. Hence you storming all the way down here to stake your claim and tell me to stop seeing other women.”

“Okay, to be clear, I have no issue with you seeing Melissa now that I know she’s your therapist.”

“Noted.”

“Colt!” Jameson yells from across the arena, and Colt groans, resting his sweaty forehead against my shoulder for a few seconds before kissing it instead.

“I’ve gotta get back to work. Go hang out at the Big House for a bit to cool off and then hitch a ride back to the cabin when you’re ready. You shouldn’t be out walking in this heat.”

I roll my eyes at him, and his hands slip down, squeezing my butt before he winks and pulls away.

“See you later, mama.”

THIRTY-THREE

COLT

I expect Blair to be on my case about how the appointment went when I pull up in the front yard after work, but she isn’t. She just looks up from where she’s reclining on the new porch swing with a book and greets me with a smile.

“How was work?” she asks, like she didn’t try to rip my dick off in front of all the other ranch hands this morning.

“Fine.” I kiss her on the forehead and lift her legs, sitting down on the swing and laying them back across my lap. “You’re not going to ask me how therapy was?”