Midnight Rebel (Midnight Falls, Texas)

Chapter 7

Autumn

A week has passed since that first night with Colt, and while The Manor’s Gothic grandeur still feels foreign and imposing, being with him has become my new normal.

My clothes hang beside his in the massive wardrobe, and my laptop sits on the antique desk by the window.

I wake to Colt’s arm draped over my waist, his warmth enveloping me. His body fits perfectly against mine, and I remain motionless, savoring the peaceful moment.

As Colt stirs, his breath tickles my neck. His stubble grazes my shoulder, evoking memories of last night’s passion.

He pulls me closer, and I melt into him, the steady rhythm of his heart a comforting presence against my back.

This feels rare and precious. I could easily get used to it.

I squeeze my eyes shut, clinging to this moment of bliss. If only I could freeze time, capture this feeling forever.

But reality creeps in, as persistent as the dawn. The truth of why I’m in Midnight Falls crashes over me, as jarring as ice water down my spine.

I came here to uncover secrets, not to fall for the man entangled in them.

I turn carefully, not wanting to wake him. My breath catches as I drink in Colt’s sleeping form. His usually sharp features are softened, dark hair tousled against the pillow.

Without the weight of his responsibilities, he looks younger, almost vulnerable.

A lump forms in my throat. How did I let myself get in so deep?

As if sensing my gaze, Colt’s eyes flutter open. A slow smile spreads across his face as he tightens his arm around my waist.

“Morning, Firefly,” he murmurs.

I turn to face him, drinking in the sight of his messy hair and sleepy eyes. “Morning.”

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead before sitting up. “If you hurry to get dressed, I’ll have time to make you breakfast.”

“What’s the rush?” I trace a finger along his jaw, relishing the rasp of stubble. “I was enjoying myself right here.”

A shadow crosses his face. “Contractor’s coming to quote on fixing the tunnels.”

Reality crashes back in. The investigation, the accidents, the secrets lurking in every corner of this place – it all comes flooding back. I push the unease aside, clinging to our bubble for one more moment.

“Wait.” I prop myself up on my elbows. “I haven’t even placed my breakfast order.”

Colt’s lips quirk up in that devastating half-smile. “You don’t need to. I know what you eat, how you like it cooked, how much cream and sugar you take in your coffee.”

My heart does a little flip. “All that, and we’ve only been together for a few days.”

His eyes soften as he looks at me. “Yet it feels like forever.”

I blink, taken aback by the intensity of his gaze. To cover my sudden nervousness, I tease, “Are you making fun of me?”

Colt snorts. “Making fun of you is this,” he says, tucking an imaginary strand of hair behind his ear while batting his eyelashes exaggeratedly. It’s such a spot-on imitation of my nervous habit that I burst out laughing.

“I didn’t realize I was so transparent,” I say, still chuckling.

“Only to someone who’s been watching you very closely.”

Colt rises from the bed, which suddenly feels too big and too empty.

Heat blooms in my cheeks. To distract myself from the intensity of his gaze, I say, “I’ll hop in the shower so we don’t delay. My editor is breathing down my neck. I need to deliver something soon.”

Concern flashes across Colt’s face. “Any new leads?”

I sigh, running a hand through my tangled hair. “Scattered threads, but they’ll come together soon enough.”

At least, I hope they will. The pressure to produce a story worthy of my editor’s expectations is starting to weigh on me.

Colt nods, his expression thoughtful. He leans in to kiss me. I savor the connection before reluctantly pulling away.

“I really should get that shower,” I murmur against his lips.

He groans softly. “You’re killing me, Firefly. But you’re right.” He releases me and stands, stretching in a way that makes his muscles ripple enticingly. “I’ll start on breakfast. Don’t be too long, or it’ll get cold.”

As I watch him leave the room, I’m struck by how domestic this feels. It’s as if we’ve been doing this dance for years instead of days. The thought both thrills and terrifies me. I’ve never let anyone get this close this quickly before.

In the shower, I let the hot water soothe my conflicted thoughts. On the one hand, I’m falling hard for Colt.

The way he makes me feel—safe, cherished, desired—is intoxicating. But on the other hand, I can’t forget why I’m here.

I have a job to do, a mystery to solve. And Colt is right at the center of it all.

Can I be objective when I’m sharing his bed? When his kisses make me weak in the knees, and his touch sets my skin on fire?

I close my eyes, letting the water cascade over me. I need to find a way to balance my heart and my head, or this whole situation could blow up in my face.

By the time I make it downstairs, dressed in jeans and a soft sweater, the smell of coffee and bacon fills the air. I follow my nose to the kitchen, where I find Colt at the stove, his back to me as he flips pancakes with expert precision.

“Smells amazing,” I say.

Colt turns, a smile lighting up his face. “Perfect timing. Have a seat. It’s almost ready.”

I settle at the kitchen island, watching him work. There’s something incredibly sexy about a man who knows his way around a kitchen.

“I didn’t know you could cook,” I say, sipping my coffee. It’s perfect—the right amount of cream and sugar, exactly how I like it.

He shrugs, plating up the food. “I picked up a few things over the years. It comes in handy when you’re living on your own.”

As he sets a plate in front of me—golden pancakes, crispy bacon, and scrambled eggs that look fluffy and delicious—a pang of guilt hits me. Here he is, taking care of me while I’m essentially investigating him and his family.

“This looks incredible,” I say, picking up my fork. “Thank you.”

Colt leans across the island, his blue eyes intense. “You’re welcome, Firefly. I like taking care of you.”

The simple statement makes my heart skip a beat. I take a bite of pancake to distract myself and can’t hold back a moan of appreciation. “Oh my God, these are amazing. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

A shadow passes over Colt’s face. “My dad. He used to make these every Sunday morning.”

I reach out, covering his hand with mine. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

He shakes his head, turning his hand to lace our fingers together. “It’s okay. Not all the memories are bad.” His thumb strokes over my knuckles, sending little shivers up my arm.

“Tell me more about your dad,” I say softly, genuinely curious about Colt’s past.

Colt’s eyes grow distant. “He was a good man. Tough, but fair. He taught me everything I know about running this place.” He pauses, a wry smile touching his lips. “Including how to make a mean stack of pancakes.”

I squeeze his hand gently. “He sounds wonderful. I wish I could have met him.”

“Me too.” Colt clears his throat, shaking off the moment of vulnerability. “Eat up,” he says, his voice gruff.

I nod, turning my attention back to my plate. As we eat, my thoughts stray to the tunnels. What caused that cave-in? Was it age and poor maintenance or something more sinister?

“Colt,” I say, setting down my fork. “About the tunnels... do you think there’s more to it than structural decay?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Honestly? I don’t know. It could be nothing, but...”

“But?” I prompt.

“Given everything else that’s been happening around here, I can’t rule out foul play.” His jaw clenches.

I lean forward, my reporter instincts kicking in. “Who would want to do that? And why?”

Colt shakes his head. “I wish I knew. Plenty of people in town would love to see this place fail.”

“What do you mean? Who?”

He hesitates, and I see him weighing how much to tell me.

Finally, he says, “The Manor’s been a point of contention in Midnight Falls. Some people think it’s a historical treasure. Others see it as a reminder of old money and privilege. There’s been talk over the years of turning it into a museum, hotel, or even tearing it down to build something new.”

“And where do you stand in all this?” I ask softly.

Colt’s eyes meet mine, filled with determination and weariness. “I want to preserve it. Not because it’s my family’s legacy but because I believe it’s important to the town’s history. But sometimes—” He trails off, looking away.

“Sometimes, what?” I prompt gently.

He sighs. “Sometimes, I wonder if it’s worth all the trouble.”

I reach out, taking his hand in mine. “You don’t have to shoulder it alone, you know.”

Colt looks at me, his expression softening. “I’m starting to realize that,” he says quietly.

We sit there for a moment, hands clasped, the weight of unspoken words hanging between us.

Colt’s phone lights up with a message. He glances at his watch and curses under his breath.

Although I shouldn’t look, my eyes are drawn to the screen:

Security - front gate: The contractor has arrived. Shall I escort him to the tunnels?

Colt pushes to his feet and picks up the phone. “I’ve got to go,” he says after reading the message.

I nod, trying to ignore the disappointment that wells up in me. “Of course. Go, do what you need to do.”

He comes around the island, cupping my face in his hands. “We’ll talk more later, okay?”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Colt leans in, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Stay out of trouble while I’m gone, Firefly,” he murmurs against my skin.

I smile. “No promises.”

He pulls back, shaking his head with a rueful grin. “That’s what I’m afraid of.” With one last lingering look, he grabs his jacket and heads out.

As the door closes behind him, I let out a long breath. The house suddenly feels too big, too quiet. I glance around the kitchen, taking in the remnants of our breakfast—the dirty dishes, the half-empty coffee pot, the lingering scent of bacon in the air.

It all feels so ordinary, so domestic. For a moment, I let myself imagine a future where this is my everyday reality—waking up with Colt, sharing meals, building a life together. The thought is both thrilling and terrifying.

But I can’t let myself get lost in those daydreams. I have a job to do, a mystery to solve. And time is running out.

With renewed determination, I clean up the kitchen, then head to my room to grab my laptop and notebook. It’s time to start piecing together the scattered threads of this investigation.

I clean up quickly, then head to Margaret’s office, having Colt’s permission to use the facilities. I boot up my laptop and spread out my notes.

It’s time to start piecing together the scattered threads of this investigation.

Something big is happening here. It could change everything—for The Manor, for Margaret, and for my relationship with Colt.

I only hope I’m ready for whatever I find.