Delivery to the Farmhouse (Havenwood Cowboys Romance #4)

Chapter 16

Chapter Sixteen

A ny minute now the detonated nerve endings were going to hit their fulcrum and I would explode. Colton’s arm slung around me, and the heat from his body played all kinds of tricks on me.

He felt this protective of me? Was it bad that I liked it?

“You’re making me more nervous than he is,” I said.

“I’m making you nervous?”

I gazed up into his eyes, feeling torn between pushing him away and tugging him by the collar to bring him closer.

When our gazes caught, something inside of me flared to life. I’d looked at him a dozen times before. We’d shared eye contact a few times during this trip alone—but none of those times had had the same allure as this look did.

His mouth was right there. All smooth-talking and kissable.

A kiss would send a message, wouldn’t it? It wouldn’t just ward off whoever the man across the bar was. It would create a cacophony of confusion on my already rattled insides.

“With you staking a claim like this,” I said, my words quiet. “Yes. ”

His gaze flicked down to my lips, too, before dodging back up to my eyes. “You don’t want me to stake a claim?”

I swallowed. Words fled as I lost myself in his eyes.

I wasn’t sure. In that moment, I’d let him stake any and all claims he wanted to.

“I—”

The waitress appeared and took our orders, and it took an extraordinary amount of effort and concentration to tear myself away from Colton long enough to look at the menu again. Especially since he kept his arm around my shoulders.

His fingers trailed a circle on my upper arm as he smirked up at her. He ordered his food like he wasn’t completely turning me inside out with every brush of his thumb on my skin.

I barely managed to keep my senses as I ordered a strawberry lemonade and my meal. His smell, his proximity, and the whole staking-a-claim thing wasn’t the kind of steak I had in mind when we’d stopped here for dinner.

But I wasn’t going to complain.

The waitress took our menus and left a basket of bread, which any other time, I’d be all over. The bread at places like this was often my favorite part of the meal.

But I didn’t want to move.

I kept expecting Colton to lower his arm any minute, but he stayed close. In fact, he leaned in and brushed his nose along my hairline, making my stomach flutter before he whispered in my ear.

“Looks like it’s working,” he said softly. “Looks like he’s backing off.”

It wasn’t like I could verify that fact, not when I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but the maddening levels of dopamine traipsing through me by his sheer closeness. I’d completely forgotten about the target of his display of affection. My attention was one thousand percent on him.

“What about you?” I asked, my words low even though with the music playing and someone singing on the stage, there was no need to whisper.

His voice was rugged. “I told you, that’s up to you. I’ll stay right here as long as you want me to.”

How does forever sound to you?

I liked his closeness. I liked his possessiveness and the warmth of him next to me.

“Don’t want to take any chances,” I said, hearing the words catch in my throat.

For some reason, I stared right at his mouth as his lips spread into a delicious smile that made me want to pull him close and take all the chances.

“I don’t know,” he said, lifting his water and bringing his straw to those lips.

I was mesmerized by the way they wrapped themselves around the tiny piece of plastic.

“I like these chances,” he finished, lowering his water glass. “I’ll take as much as you’re willing to give me.”

I did, too. Heaven help me, but I did.

Once the waitress arrived, he edged away from me enough that our elbows weren’t clashing as we cut into our dinners. We ate in relative silence and then he scooted right back closer to me.

“Lookee there,” he said, pointing to the makeshift stage as the latest soloist stepped down and soft music played in the interim. “Looks like it’s karaoke night.”

“You going up there?” I asked, settling in next to him.

“No, but I thought you might.”

Any and all comfortable feelings fled faster than flies to a waved hand. “What? No.”

He gestured to the rest of the establishment.

There were quite a few more people sitting at tables. It made me wonder how much time had passed since we sat down.

To my relief, my supposed stalker was no longer at the bar. Either Colton didn’t notice or he didn’t care, because he didn’t move away.

“Now’s your chance,” Colton said.

I pushed hard on his arm, and he laughed and scooted away. But he didn’t leave for his side of the booth again. He stayed right by my side, keeping his arm firmly around me once more.

That was when I caught sight of movement. The man who’d been eyeing me before now sat at one of the tables. He tipped a bottle of beer to his lips, glaring at Colton.

My feet had somehow lost the ability to move.

“Come on,” Colton nudged me. “You scared?”

“Yes!”

“What if I go first?” he asked. “This way, you can see if you still want to sing for a living. This could be your big chance.”

I stared at the others in the restaurant as a woman strode up the center line of tables and made for the little stage. She took the mic from the waitress and the music began.

“You’ll sing, too?” I asked, casting my uncertainty aside. I already knew I didn’t want to sing for a living. But singing with him? Karaoke was not hinged on anything but having fun, and that was exactly what I wanted with him.

“We could pick a duet.” He winked. “I told you, I’m not leaving your side tonight.”

Heat blossomed in my core. It pooled all the way down to my toes.

Colton didn’t relent. He didn’t back down.

“Okay,” I said, feeling a little tornado flurry in my stomach.

The woman’s song ended, and Colton raised his hand toward the waitress. She brought a binder to us. The crowd clapped, and we perused the songs, searching for a duet we both knew.

“Oh, I love this one,” I said, pointing to “If I Didn’t Love You” by Jason Aldean and Carrie Underwood.

“I don’t know that one. How about this? You like Ed Sheeran? ”

“Doesn’t everyone?” I looked at the song he pointed to and began hearing its melody in my head. “Yeah, that’s a good one. Let’s do that.”

We finally settled on “Everything Has Changed” by Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. After handing the binder back to the waitress, she told us our turn was coming up.

With ants scurrying on the underside of my skin, I snatched Colton’s hand and made my way to the stage.

The feeling up that first step was surreal. It wasn’t like this was a professional stage or even a full-sized one, considering how this took up only a small portion of the establishment’s east side.

Be that as it may, it was a stage . And I was on it.

The lights in the restaurant were dim, but a spotlight blared at us. The music began, starting with a familiar swell, and then Colton started the first verse, reading from the lines moving slowly on the teleprompter in the corner.

His voice was resonant and husky, as deeply pleasant as a newly discovered cave. He gave me a little nudge, and then I joined in for the second verse. The words struck me a little more than I liked, especially as my eyes caught Colton’s.

Everything had changed. We’d only been on this road trip for a day, and already, being around him was doing something to me. He’d already torn down the barricade around my heart—and now, it was almost like he was gearing up to take his own defenses there instead.

To protect me, just like he had against the man who, in all honesty, would probably have kept his distance regardless of which side of the booth Colton had been sitting on.

I did want to know him better, just like the song said. Every time he did something sweet for me, like opening my door, like listening as intently as he did, like swooping in to save me from potential creeps in the bar. Little by little, he was wearing down every single reservation I’d put up since Jensen had shattered me.

I sang. I sang my heart out. And I felt more alive standing on that stage with him than I had in months. He was awakening parts of me that I thought had died. Turned out, they’d just been hibernating during the winter.

Colton was my spring. He was reviving the dormant plants, encouraging new growth, bringing things into bloom.

I’d always loved fall, but spring was suddenly my favorite season.

Once the song ended, and those in the restaurant clapped for us, I grinned. When I looked at Colton, he grinned back.

The moment coursed through me. It was a defining kind of thing, something my mental camera captured. Something I knew I’d hold onto.

Colton tilted in, slipping his hand around my waist. The scruff of his cheek brushed mine as he whispered. “You’re changing me .”

I met his gaze, and it was like the rest of the world blurred, like everything faded but him. Heady, exhilarating desire plowed into the barricade, tearing more of the stone away, hammering at the door to my heart. And I felt a few more pieces crumble.

“Let’s move off the stage,” the waitress said, standing at the stage’s edge. She carried an empty tray with one hand and gestured toward another table with her other. “It looks like we have a new taker.”

The crowd clapped, and Colton tipped his hat, took my hand, and led me down as the three waiting women giggled their way up to take our places on the stage.

I stared at the restaurant, at the table we’d shared, and it was as though I could see the tangible evidence of this newfound exhilaration coursing through me.

I’d sung . In front of people.

With Colton.

The waitress announced the next karaoke takers. The growing crowd clapped and cheered for them, and Colton tilted closer to speak over them .

“You ready to get out of here?” he asked, clapping as well. Because it was the thing to do.

“Is the hotel far?” I asked, searching for the exit.

I needed some space to myself. I needed to process just what was going on.

I swore I’d never let a man into my life again, but Colton? We weren’t even two days into our road trip, and he was changing my mind like a rush of wind blowing a weathervane in the opposite direction.

He was redirecting everything, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “GPS says it’s only a couple miles. I’m just going to the restroom, and we’ll head out. Deal?”

“Deal,” I said, returning to our table once more.

From the look of things, the waitress hadn’t yet cleared our plates. My half-finished broccoli still lay on the white dinnerware, my fork in the same spot I’d left it.

Colton had paid for our dinner, but I pulled a bill from my purse and left my own tip on the table as well. I’d pay for the next meal. He didn’t need to keep covering everything. I also made a mental note to pay him half for the hotels.

“That was some singing,” a voice said, cutting into my thoughts.

I looked up from the spread of our dirty dishes and the bill I’d just left on the table, and my heart seized.

The man with a mole near his nose, the one who’d been staring at me from the bar slid in at the end of the bench. Trapping me in. My heart rose into my throat.

And while Colton smelled amazing—this guy didn’t . The scent of alcohol wafted from him, twisting my dinner in my stomach and sending me on alert.

Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm.

“Excuse me,” I said. “I’d like to get out. ”

“I’m sure you would,” he said, the words slurred. “I can take you out. I got a motorcycle. You want a ride?”

“I have a ride,” I said.

My heart rate picked up speed. Beads of sweat pooled under my shirt.

“Come on, baby,” he said. His hand made its way to my leg.

I jerked away, though trapped as I was in the booth, I didn’t have far to go. “Don’t touch me.”

He pushed in closer. His foot brushed mine. “Don’t be like that. Your date left you all alone. I can take good care of you.”

“No,” I said. “You need to leave.”

But my head was blanking out. I’d always thought I was capable of handling myself, but in all honesty, this was terrifying. My brain was shutting down. I couldn’t think.

My arms moved instinctively. I shoved the man back again.

To my surprise, he yanked back…or rather he was yanked back. I worked up the courage to scream, but it lodged in my throat.

The man was pulled off the bench completely. He stood at the end of the booth. His attention was no longer on me.

Colton gripped him by the shirt.

“I think the lady told you ‘no.’” Colton’s face was livid. Patches of red climbed up the sides of his throat.

The man shrugged, catching the attention of others in the restaurant. My vision was blanking. I was too overrun to think.

“She didn’t mean it.”

“She did,” Colton said, shoving him against the pillar at the end of our booth. “And I mean it, too. Get away from her. You don’t get to touch her.”

The man shrugged out of his grasp and reached for me. My voice made an appearance. I shrank back, avoiding the touch of his hand.

In true cowboy fashion, like we were in a bar scene from a John Wayne movie, Colton cocked his fist back and landed it in the man’s face.

A commotion broke out. The waitress screamed. Couples bolted from their tables. Men moved in, ready to join the fray.

And I felt like Lea Thompson in the scene from Back to the Future, when Marty’s dad finally finds his courage to defend his mom and knock Biff out in the parking lot. George McFly bent down and offered his hand to her, asking if she was okay.

She was starstruck in that scene.

That was me right now.

I was starstruck and terrified all at once. But I was sure of one thing—I was okay now that Colton was here. He took my hand, helping me as I slid out of the bench.

“Oh, my gosh. Colton,” I said.

He clutched me to him, holding me close. I was surprised to feel him trembling just as much as I was.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Before I could answer, the waitress recomposed herself as a bulky man wearing a black button-up shirt with the Edna’s Barbecue logo on the sleeve approached.

“You need to leave,” the man said. “We don’t need trouble here.”

Colton slung his arm around my shoulders and glowered at the man in the shirt.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.” Keeping his eyes on me, ignoring the scads of eyes turned in our direction, he led the way out into the warm night. A cricket chirped somewhere nearby.

“Are you okay?” he asked again the minute we were outside.

Colton pulled me to the side of the restaurant and faced me, taking my face in his hands. He held me so gently, so carefully. “I’m sorry I left you alone.”

This was a little ridiculous. I placed my hands on his. “What was I supposed to do, come into the bathroom with you?”

Colton didn’t answer. His brow hardened, and then we walked in steely silence all the way across the boardwalk’s planks and back to where he’d parked his truck. Surprisingly, even though the sun had gone down, the streets were still just as busy as they’d been before.

My heart didn’t seem to know how to slow down. I was still so on edge, imagining all the ways tonight could have gone.

He’d been right. That man with the mole had been watching me.

What if I’d gone outside on my own? What if something worse had happened?

I nestled in deeper against Colton’s side as we approached his truck. He helped me up into the passenger seat, made his way around to the driver’s side, and then he drove with a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel.

None of the scenery registered. I was still so lost in my thoughts, in prayers of thanks I sent, in worst-case scenarios.

As if in a blur, we pulled into the hotel and carted our luggage to check in. After receiving two keys, we stopped at the door to my room first.

Colton didn’t give my key to me. Instead, he swiped, waited for the light, and turned the handle. Propping the door open with his foot, he strode in, carrying both my suitcase and his.

What was he doing? I was pretty sure he’d just checked in for two rooms only a few minutes before.

His words from before played back through. I’m not leaving your side tonight.

Was he sticking to that even now?