Chapter 37 Riley

CHAPTER 37

Riley

COLTON HANDS ME a steaming tin cup and then takes his place on the blanket beside me. My mouth is still thick from peanut butter and honey sandwich residue and everything that's been left unsaid between us, but the first sip of warm, rich, liquefied chocolate loosens everything right up.

"Hot chocolate?" I sigh, savoring the comfort in cup. "Where did you get hot cocoa?"

"I always carry an emergency stash in my saddlebag."

"You're kidding."

Colton shakes his head while he fiddles with his pocket knife. "Nope."

"It's incredible." I take another sip and let the warmth fill me up.

I know I need to explain about what he overheard last night and tell him I'm staying in Nebraska, but I'm not sure where to start. "I was really pissed off at my parents last night," I say. Because where else is there to begin? "I've been frustrated with them for a while, and last night things got even more complicated and I said some things in the moment that weren't completely true."

Colton looks at me with an unreadable expression. "They weren't completely false, either." He watches me from above the rim of his tin mug as he takes a sip.

My jeans are stiff from dried brook water and I shake out the bottoms to ease some of my restless energy. "I don't hate Nebraska. It's just that I had all these plans and now they're ruined and I'm still coming to terms with it. Even though it's selfish, lately it's felt a lot like the whole world is against me. As soon as we arrived in Nebraska, I found out my luggage was lost. There's no cell service, so I couldn't even call my best friend to vent. And then I've had to contend with militant raccoons, mud baths, and murderous bison. It's a lot."

I tip my head back and look up at the vast, darkening sky, peppered with tiny twinkling stars. High above us, the lights of a commercial airliner arc slowly across the sky. "It feels like my life is constantly being disassembled and reassembled, piece by piece, and I have zero say in any of it." I sigh. "Quit this, pack that, move here, go there. It's like I'm not allowed to be upset or angry or feel anything at all. Yesterday, when we were in the museum, it was the first time since I arrived when I felt like maybe it would be okay."

Colton refreshes my hot cocoa and sets his hand down on the blanket next to mine. The tips of our pinkies touch. It's almost like he's tossed out a lifeline, and I focus on the sensation of his skin on mine as I forge on. "I had such a great time with you yesterday. I was hoping…maybe there could be more days like that, with you." My pinkie curls around Colton's and I'm relieved when he doesn't pull away.

Colton scoots closer and wraps his hand around mine.

My heart stutters and my fingers give his a tentative squeeze. When I glance at Colton, his unreadable gaze is fixed on the fire.

"What exactly did you picture?" he asks.

I take a sip of the now-lukewarm cocoa and set the mug down on the uneven ground. "We'd come out here and you'd show me more of your favorite places on the prairie. You'd teach me about the different wild grasses and spin some tall pioneer tails. We'd hike and fish. I'd work on study sketches and you'd do your silent, broody cowboy thing."

"That's not my thing," Colton says, tipping the brim of his hat back so he can look me in the eye.

"That is so your thing," I say, bumping my shoulder into his. Instead of pulling away, I lean into him, letting his solid warmth prop me up.

Colton lifts our joined hands and studies our linked fingers, glowing gold in the firelight. "Last night, it sounded like there was nothing here for you. It made me wonder, if I was just…convenient."

"Jake is convenient." I rest my head on his shoulder, the flannel soft and warm against my forehead. "But I'm not looking for convenient."

"So what are you looking for, then?" His voice is a low murmur in my ear.

"Something more than stale pickup lines and practiced smiles." A cold gust of wind whips across the prairie, and I snuggle closer. "I really like you, Colton. You're the one person who's made any of this bearable. You understand me. You make me feel special and seen. You've helped me to see the possibilities. Hell, you saved my life. I…I wish we could have more time together than just this week."

This is it. This is where I tell him I'm staying in Nebraska. That we have a chance for more than just this week.

I open my mouth, but Colton reaches out and brushes his finger over my lips to get me to stop talking.

Colton's lips are soft and warm when they settle over mine with just enough pressure to make me forget what I'm thinking but not so much that it feels forced. I shiver, partly from the way my spine tingles from his kiss but also because the breeze carries a chill. He wraps his arms around me, pulling me into his chest, and I melt into his warmth as his familiar leather-and-Ivory-soap scent envelops us. My fingers trace the rough stubble along his jawline.

When we finally pull apart, the sky is midnight blue and speckled with so many stars it's like someone took a brush, dipped it in silver paint, and flicked it at the heavens. "It's beautiful out here."

"It is," Colton says, his voice a low murmur that makes my skin blaze.

The fire casts a warm golden glow that highlights the sharp planes of his face. My fingers itch for a set of oil pastels and my sketch pad. I want to capture Colton in this moment, where he's the perfect mixture of rugged and soft, strong and tender.

"What?" he asks, his forehead creasing.

"I was just thinking about the colors I'd use to sketch you." I reach up and trace over his cheek. "Vermilion, bright yellow, and golden ochre with a hint of scarlet lake." Down the bridge of his nose. "Indigo, brown, and cobalt blue." Along the side of his face where it's cast in shadow. "Ivory black and intense blue."

He reaches up and wraps his hand over mine, pressing my palm into his cheek. "What about my lips?"

I pretend to think for a moment. "I'm not sure," I say. "I'll have to study them a bit more to make sure I get it right."

Burnt madder.

Orange lead.

Venetian red.

The colors flash behind my eyes the moment our lips meet. This kiss is less tentative. The pressure builds and my hands rise to cradle his face. We twist onto our sides on the saddle blanket. Colton's arm cushions my head while his free hand tangles in my hair. I flex my toes and they brush against the tops of his boots.

"How much studying do you think you'll need?" Colton mumbles as his lips move to my jawline. He makes his way up to my earlobe, then dusts my cheek with light kisses before returning to my mouth.

"I'm not sure," I say. "I'm a pretty slow learner. It could take a while."

Colton leans back and grins. "It's a good thing we've got allnight."