Page 76 of Kicking Up Dust

“It’s not,” he says with a sigh, leaning back in the driver’s seat for a moment before getting out and rounding the truck. He practically lifts me out of the seat—not bothering to wait for me to step down onto the running board and get down myself—providing a steady arm as I climb the stairs through the drizzle and we get inside. He attempts to head down the hall once he sets me down, but I dig my nails into his arm.

“Hey, quit pulling away from me,” I demand, using my other hand to turn his face so he’s looking at me. His eyes look so dead, it’s terrifying. “It’s okay that you left. I understand. You needed to get away from the argument and I was safe there. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t just abandon me somewhere. Besides, you had no way of knowing it was going to storm while you were out.”

Colt’s bottom lip trembles in a way I know well, the result of trying so hard not to cry that your body betrays you. He jerks his head away and uses his hand to wipe at his mouth, like he can physically get rid of the evidence.

“Listen to me, Colt.” I reach for him again, not willing to let him isolate himself like this. He finally wraps his arms around me and hunches over to hide his face against my shoulder. I knock his hat off his head to run my fingers through his hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m not angry with you. I would’ve panicked with or without you there.”

“I feel like I fucked up,” he says, the break in his voice muffled by my shirt. Being soaking wet in an air-conditioned cabin toward the end of September isn’t the best choice, but I can stand being cold for a few minutes if it means I get through to him.

“You didn’t, baby. It means a lot to me that you care about me to the point you’re this worried about messing things up, but you didn’t. We’re good. Our baby’s good.”

He pulls back again, looking at me with a look completely the opposite of the dead stare from a few moments ago.

“Our baby,” he repeats firmly. “I’m so sorry about my brother. He’s a fucking dick sometimes, but I—” He cuts himself off with a sigh. “While I was driving, I was thinking it over, and I don’t think he meant to sound like a dick. I think ‘blunt’ is just the only way he knows how to get things out, and he’s bad at considering how it sounds to other people.”

“It’s okay, Colt. When she’s born, they can do the DNA test and we can prove to him that she’s yours. It’s not a big deal,” I promise him.

“It is, though. Because we shouldn’t have to prove anything to make him believe us. Your word should be enough.”

My breath hitches as I stare at him, stomach bottoming out.

My word should be enough.

Simple as that.

I shouldn’t have to prove anything.

“Blair?”

“I love you,” I whisper, eyes wide and watery as my fingers curl in his hair. He still hasn’t gone far since he was hunched over me, crying on my shoulder, and it’s a good thing because I’m terrified to let him go right now. I hadn’t meant to say that, but it feels so good to get out regardless.

Colt’s face splits into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen him wear, one that makes me understand why “happy” and “joy” weren’t enough and the word “ecstatic” was created in all of its tongue-tied glory.

“It’s so fucking nice to hear you say that, mama.”

I practically sob out a laugh, my voice breaking. “Yeah?”

He pulls his arms from around my waist but only to cup my face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs across my cheekbones.

“Yeah. I love you so much, Blair. So fucking much.”

His lips are on mine a second later, and hungry and desperate until my shivering ruins the mood and he pulls back stiffly.

“Shit, let me get you into something warm and start a fire.”

“You start the fire. I’ll change,” I offer, pecking his lips again. He melts against me for just a second, his hands drifting down to my butt and squeezing before he forces himself to pull away.

I had already planned on telling Colt about what happened to me that night, but he unknowingly solidified things when he said my word should be enough. It’s sort of bad timing. We just had a really sweet moment together, and I’m going to make it all heavy again, but for the first time in my life, I don’t have the fear that the person I’m telling this story to won’t believe me.

He greets me with a smile when I come back into the living room dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas. The shirt’s a little too small on me, so my stomach pops out the bottom, but it’s alright.

“Is that going to be warm enough?” he asks with concern, reaching out from his place on the couch. I flop down beside him, leaning into his side.

“I’m fine,” I promise. He pulls me to sit sideways on his thigh, kissing my cheek as I shove my freezing-cold toes under his other warm thigh.

We’re quiet for a few minutes, just staring into the fire and riding on the high of sharing our love for one another for the first time, but the weight of what’s coming is too much to keep inside. In an odd way, I’m almost… excited to tell Colt, to finally have someone on my side, just as upset for me as I am. The knowledge that it’ll hurt him is the only thing that’s making me pause.

“I have to tell you some things,” I finally whisper. “Like why I’m scared of the rain.”