I nodded. “I just have to do the install on a few pieces. This, for example,” I said heaving my load up slightly. “Thank you so much for helping, I know you probably have to get going.”
He rocked back on his heels and stuffed his fingers into the front pockets of his distressed khaki jeans. “I’d like to stay and watch, if that’s ok?” He looked at me questioningly.
“Uh, yeah, sure.”
“Then afterward I can buy you an early dinner at View 32.” He paused, trying to sound innocent. “Since we’re here and all.”
I shook my head as I laid down the piece I was holding, but I was smiling. He never gave up. “You don’t have to buy me dinner, but food would be good.”
He smirked with satisfaction and came close, sliding a hand around the back of my neck and depositing a kiss onto my forehead. And I swear, I swear, he inhaled just a little.
Pulling away, I elbowed him jovially in the ribs.
I worked fast, and then checked in with the events coordinator, Allison, before heading back to find Colt. I’d met Allison at my opening at the Picture This Gallery back in December. She’d invited me to be a part of this exhibit. Soon I’d be back here on Hilton Head Island for a black-tie cocktail party, with me as one of the star guests. It seemed totally surreal. And all my sweet friends in Butler Cove were raiding wedding rental companies for formal attire. Who knew what I was going to wear? It sent me into a flat panic every time it crossed my mind, so I tried not to let it. Now the party was just around the corner, and I was still dress-less.
Colt wasn’t where I left him, so I headed to the walkway deck then looked over the pool area and followed it toward the restaurant. I found him leaning on his elbows overlooking the beach and the ocean beyond.
“Hey,” I said coming up beside him and resting my arms next to his.
“Hey you,” he returned softly, bumping my shoulder.
We both fell silent watching the shadowed pool area as the sun lowered somewhere behind us. White ribbons flapped haphazardly in the sea air, the remnants of a wedding celebration tied to some wooden chairs near the beach.
I had yet to attend a wedding in my adult life, although I remembered going to one when I was nine with my parents in West Virginia. My mom’s high school best friend was getting married. My parents fought for the entire car trip there about something my young mind didn’t think to retain. They were stone cold silent for the entire ride home. I was looking forward to seeing some of my friends tie the knot in the years to come, happier occasions they’d be, I was sure.
Colt breathed in a loaded breath, bringing me back to the present. “This is a huge deal, Keri Ann. I don’t want to sound patronizing, but I’m so proud of you and what you’ve accomplished.” He angled his head to me.
I smiled self-consciously. “Thank you. It’s pretty cool, huh? I can’t quite get over it, really. I mean, I know this is just a hotel and not a New York Gallery, but this island gets over two million visitors a year, and I think they are promoting the heck out of this exhibition all summer long.” I shrugged my shoulders and felt the beat of heat in my cheeks.
Colt grinned. “Come on, let’s go get you fed.”
I watched him turn away to walk toward the restaurant entrance. “Colt?”
He turned back, eyebrows raised above bright blue eyes. “Yeah?”
“Thank you.” I clasped my fingers together nervously and looked away as I spoke. “It was good to have a friend here. You here,” I quickly amended and glanced at him. “Helping. Today was kind of a big day for me.”
Colt took an almost step toward me, then halted, like he’d purposely stopped himself. He shook his head and blew out a breath. “You’re welcome.”
The heavens opened again as soon as we were on the way home, this time with huge gusts of wind. I slowed the truck as the visibility went from bad to worse and checked the rearview mirror.
Colt’s dark BMW followed, as well as a smattering of other cars. It seemed he’d decided to follow me. I really appreciated that, but wondered whether I’d have to invite him in, or if he was just seeing me home. Ugh. This whole special friends thing was driving me nuts. I didn’t know what was expected of me, or scratch that … what he expected of me. Was I supposed to kiss him and let him think this was something more out of some warped sense of duty? I didn’t think so. I wouldn’t. But spending time with Colt had given me a whole new understanding of the general dating scene. It was an ocean of unspoken expectation and misunderstanding. And pressure. Some real and some imagined. There was also undoubtedly a lot of frog kissing on the way to the prince. Not that Colt was a frog …
No, this was Colton Graves, my brother’s best friend and friend of mine. And I had definitely made myself clear, both by explicitly stating I wasn’t ready for a serious relationship, and with my endless comments about friendship. Then again, I had agreed to go out with him. Several times.
I glanced nervously in the rearview mirror again just in time to see the blue tarp I’d strapped down to cover all my pieces earlier rip clear off one side and flap wildly over the edge of the truck bed.
Damn!
I slowed and put the blinker on to pull over. I hated to stop on the side of a highway, but I risked a certain accident if the tarp got caught in the wheels. Just as I rolled to a stop, I thought I felt it do just that. A ripping sound emanated from behind me and the truck shuddered.
Wrenching open the door, I climbed out into the warm and driving rain that had me soaked within nanoseconds. I bent to inspect the wheel then heard Colton’s door slam and looked up as he approached, holding a dark windbreaker over his head that he extended over me, too.
“It’s jammed. Dammit,” I yelled over the gusts of wind and passing cars, kicking the tire with my wet sneaker.
“We’ll probably have to take the wheel off like we’re changing a flat.”
I nodded at his yelled words, just what I was thinking. “I have a jack in the truck bed.”
Turning to go get it as Colt did what he could to pull the tarp away from the wheel, I saw a silver Jeep Wrangler slowing down and pulling onto the hard shoulder ahead of us. Then it reversed closer. I was glad I wasn’t out here alone. No one got out right away. I caught Colt’s eye and we both shrugged.
I was soaked and getting more chilled from the wind by the second. Grabbing the iron and the jack, I went back around the truck in time to see the door on the Jeep open. A long denim-clad leg ending in black biker boots, the kind that were etched in my memory, like forever, swung out the door of the Jeep and hit the pavement at about the same time my stomach did. And perhaps given the loud clang, the tire iron, too.
This was not happening.
My eyes traveled upwards over an olive green button-down shirt that was not only rapidly turning dark khaki in the rain but was also plastering to the body beneath. Then I looked up over a familiar roughly stubbled jaw to the shadow of a ball cap, where eyes I couldn’t see, but could certainly feel, should be.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I heard Colt say harshly next to me.
My eyes tracked back down to the boots, and I watched as they headed toward us. I willed my mind to work. Hadn’t I thought of this scenario a thousand times? Ok, maybe not on the side of a highway, but hadn’t I rehearsed what I would say, over and over, and pathetically, over again?