Page 9 of Colton’s Mate

And he did want it for himself. Someday. But it was a big responsibility, to have a mate relying on you. Colt could barely keep his own shit together for five minutes at a time.

Hopefully he and Remy would be ready for it when they were, like, thirty-eight and a half and their mates came along. Until then, what was the point of trying to make promises to someone, when you knew it wouldn’t last?

By this time, he’d driven to the Crows’ Nest without even making a conscious decision. As soon as he saw Callie’s beat-up car in the parking lot, something inside him relaxed. She was here.

He could see that the remains of the burned-out building had been knocked down, and the debris removed from the basement foundation.

Callie was standing near the foundation, talking to two men. One was wearing a suit and had a clipboard in his hand. The other was obviously a contractor.

Colt slowed down. Callie and the two men were involved in an intense conversation, and Callie’s body language said ‘upset’. Or possibly ‘angry as hell’. He braked to a halt near the entrance to the parking lot and rolled down the window so he could hear.

None of them noticed; they were too intent on their conversation. The guy with the clipboard was apparently the insurance adjustor, and he was telling Callie that the foundation was in good shape and just needed a little patching.

“But the original inspection report said the foundation needed to be completely dug out and re-poured,” Callie was saying. “And your company already okayed the expense. How is it suddenly not damaged?”

“Well, ma’am, we couldn’t really get down in there until all the debris was removed,” the contractor said.

“So we have to re-file the claim?”

The adjustor’s oily little face glistened in the heat. “Don’t you worry your pretty head about that.”

Warning. Warning. Danger, Will Robinson.

“I’m gonna work it all out for you.” The adjustor held the clipboard out to Callie. “Now, all I need is for you to sign this document right here. It authorizes me to give the insurance money straight to the contractor. That way, he can use it to buy materials and so forth, get your rebuild going right away.”

Warning!! Colt’s scam radar was blaring. He goosed the accelerator and pulled the truck into the lot, sending up a spray of gravel to get everyone’s attention.

He cut the engine and got out, breezing up to the little group. “Hey babe,” he called to Callie. “Sorry I’m late. What’d I miss?”

So. There Callie was at her burned-out bar having her insurance meeting, and suddenly Colt McCall hurled himself into the middle of it like he belonged there.

Which he did not.

She held up one finger to the insurance adjustor. “Hold that thought,” she said sweetly.

Then she walked over to Colt, grabbed his t-shirt and dragged him out of earshot.

“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked through clenched teeth.

“I was just passing by.”

He looked down at her with those smoky gray eyes, full of mischief.

She said, “‘Passing’ should be the operative word there. As in, ‘kept going’.”

“I thought you might need a hand.”

Of course he did. She was only a woman, after all. “Doing okay, thanks, despite my vagina and my girl-brain making it hard to understand buildy things and words on paper.”

That got one of his sexy grins. “You can’t intimidate me my saying ‘vagina.’ Kitty’s gotten me desensitized.” He paused. “You know those guys are trying to scam you, right?”

“Yes. It doesn’t take a penis to figure that out.”

He widened his eyes in pretend shock. “Good heavens, it doesn’t? Then what is it for?”

For making him be a dick, maybe?

“I’m sure you’ll think of some use for it,” she said. “But since I already figured out they’re scammers, do you mind if I go back to my meeting now? And you go wherever it is you were going?”