Page 13 of Colton’s Mate

“Nobody said you were incompetent. But you don’t have any construction experience. Why don’t I just—”

“Go. Home.”

He paused, and then said quietly, “All guys aren’t like Caleb.”

No, they weren’t. But even the good ones, like Tex, wanted to take over your life.

“Thanks, but no.”

He stood looking at her for another moment, the look in his eyes starting a shiver in her belly. Then he shrugged and said lightly, “Okay. But the offer’s still open.”

Bad Callie couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Which one? Construction advice or sexy dance?”

“Either.” Colt gave her one of those panty-melting smiles. “Both.” He turned and walked back to his truck, whistling.

Callie watched him go. Suddenly, she felt alone and a little lonely.

She wondered if there was still a thong in the bottom of her underwear drawer. Just in case.

Chapter 6

Colt drove home, not knowing whether to feel relieved or disappointed.

Relieved because… it was good Callie didn’t want him involved in her life.

And disappointed, because… Callie didn’t want him involved in her life.

There was something about her—it made him want to do things for her and take care of her, which he would suck at doing and she didn’t want him to do anyway. But that something also made him want to lift her up, build her confidence, help her blossom into the totally badass woman she was becoming.

The kind of woman he admired—and didn’t date.

She deserved somebody like Colt intended to be when he was thirty-eight and a half and had his shit together.

Not present-day Colt, who couldn’t even handle his two animals and his twin, let alone a kickass woman like Callie.

So he babbled about sexy dances and thongs to put distance between them. To remind her that he was the kind of guy she didn’t admire. And also didn’t date.

It was safer that way.

He didn’t blame her for being angry, though. At him, and at everyone. She was so brave, and was being so resilient, it was easy to forget what that bastard Caleb put her through.

He’d killed her brother, and the leader of their crew. Taken over Callie’s business, and her life. Moved into her house uninvited. Treated her like a slave.

And then he’d beaten her almost to death, and trapped her in a burning building. Her building. Her livelihood.

If it were Colt, he wouldn’t just be angry. He’d be enraged and out for blood.

He understood better now why she’d left the Wild Bloods as soon as she recovered from her injuries. She didn’t want their help. Whenever anyone—especially men—had offered her help in the past, it came at way too high a price.

She needs someone to run beside her, his leopard said. Like Remy has always run beside us.

Remy flies, like a reasonable creature, his owl said. If she were an owl, we could fly wingtip to wingtip with her and hunt together. But she is only a fur creature, so she does not matter.

Shut the fuck up, Colt said.

His owl was really starting to disturb him. His leopard was one thing—it had been inside him all his life, and felt like a part of him. They looked at things the same way, except maybe for the stalking thing.

But the owl—it was like an alien being had taken over half his mind. One that was snotty and superior and didn’t care about anyone or their feelings.