Justified Love (The Southern Gentleman Series Book 1) (20 page)

“What about this?” she pulled out a tight blue tank top that said “Bartenders Do It With A Twist.” It was extremely low cut, but I guess it was better than the alternative.

            “That’ll do.”

            Walking back to the table, I strutted my stuff, as if nothing had happened.

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” I asked trying to change topics reaching the table.

“I have to go in for a little while to help dad pull some papers for some deal he’s trying to close. But after that I’m good to go.”

“Bummer. No problem. I think the girls and I are going to head to the parade around noon so we can cheer on Sadie. I’m so glad she won Tomato Queen.”

No matter what the situation, I always try to see the good in people. Sadie had been Paisley’s sidekick for so long but wised up to her bitchy attitude. Even after all the confrontations, I was still trying to see the good in Sadie. I’m not sure Harley or Skye could forgive her that easily, but that’s not the type of person I am.

“As soon as I get done at the office, I’ll catch up with you guys for the tomato fight,” Colt said.

“It’s a good thing you didn’t take out Paisley tonight. I would have missed that killer arm pelting her in the face again,” he confessed.

“You saw all those years ago?” I asked.

“Are you kidding me, Carr? That’s all he talked about for the longest time,” Chuck piped up.

“Yeah, yeah, my man’s been pinning for you ever since,” added Wyatt.

“Pinning is an awfully strong word, don’t you think?” he said.

“Fine. Fixated, worshipping, obsessing…” Chuck added.

“Ok, that’s good,” Colt said pulling me close to me.

It was adorable the way he was getting so uncomfortable talking about his feelings for me.

“I’m just glad he manned up and finally did something about it,” Wyatt added.

“Sooo, I guess I shouldn’t feel so bad now,” I responded.

“Yeah, my girl’s been tormenting us for years,” Skye, said while I glared at her in shock for her omission.

“Skye!” I exclaimed.

“What? It’s all good. Right, Colt?” she asked him.

“I think it’s cute actually. I guess at this point we have a lot of years to make up. No use in drumming up our what if’s,” he said. “If you guys don’t mind, I think we’ll head out so I can start making up for those years.”

“I think you have a lot of years to make up for. Don’t you think?” I said bravely.

“Damn! Hey, hey, Carr. Are you sure you didn’t have a crush on me instead?” Chuck said as Colt slapped him upside the head.

“Dude. No. She’s my girl, and I’m not letting her go,” he said staring him down.

“Fine. But just remember. When he fucks up, I’ll be your shoulder to cry on,” Chuck responded trying to put on a Casanova look on his face.

“I think I’m good Chuck. I’m quite satisfied with my man,” I retaliated. On that note, Colton reached for me, picked me up and laid a kiss on my lips.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said breathing heavily into his mouth.

“I was just waiting for you.”

Chapter 16

The entire ride home, Colt gently stroked the back of my hand as he drove. Looking down admiring our hands together, mine seemed to clash with his tanned skin; speckled with freckles while kissed by the sun. I felt slightly embarrassed. I had my nails painted red, but some were chipped away from where I bit them as a nervous habit. Crossing my legs like a proper southern lady, Colt rolled my wrist to kiss the back of my hand. It was a sweet gesture that not all men would take notice to. I’ve never felt this connected to anyone before, but then again, I’ve always pictured doing this with Colt and no one else.

For the first time in a long time, I felt beautiful. I’m still trying to handle the emotional baggage of losing weight, but I’m hoping Colt is patient with me as I learn. I was terrified to stand naked in front of Colt the other night; however he made me feel so comfortable at the moment. I can barely stand and look at myself in the mirror, let alone allow the one man in the world I’ve adored for years, to look at me head on. I guess it couldn’t be that bad since he didn’t run away screaming. Every once in a while, I catch myself looking in the mirror and not recognizing the person in front of me. Sometimes I love her, and sometimes I loathe her. I can be my own worst critic.

One thing “Jenny Craig” didn’t whisper in my ear at the time was although you lose the weight; the person inside can sometimes stay the same. It takes time and understanding to help them mesh, but it’s a hell of a lot easier with a good support system. Being secluded in New York, I lost some of that support system. Being home has reassured me the people I have in my life are just the support system I need. The more I get to know Colt, the more I realize he is precisely the kind of cheerleader I need in my complex life.

●

Pulling into the parking lot of Colt’s apartment complex, I was starting to get nervous. I was walking into uncharted territory being at his home. I had never given too much thought to where Colt laid his head at night, but being here had me curious. A man’s cave was his domain, so naturally, I was honored he wanted to share his personal space with me.

Entering Colt’s bachelor pad, I was expecting something completely different than what I saw. I was anticipating black leather couches, a huge flat screen TV with game consuls for every video game and lots of chrome. It couldn’t have been further from the truth. Colt had excellent taste, lots of creams and beige. He had dark brown hardwood floors accentuated by a multi-colored oriental rug. It was masculine without being the typical bachelor pad.

“Your apartment is gorgeous. You have excellent taste,” I professed with wide eyes.

“Did your last girlfriend decorate for you?” I asked.

“Thanks, and no. I decorated all by myself. I think I did a pretty good job. I figured your home was your sanctuary. It should be comfortable. I would like to come home to a place that feels comfortable, and to me, this is the ultimate southern comfort. However, now that you’re standing in it, it feels complete now,” he professed.

He was so adorable and definitely had a way with words.

“You want a beer?” he volunteered making his way to the kitchen, not before giving my butt a swat.

“I would love a beer,” I responded with a yelp.

Walking around his apartment, I looked around at the little details he had arranged on the bookshelves. He had little knickknacks from all over the world; conch shells as big as my head, hand carved chess pieces, beautiful ceramic vases, African masks. It was spectacular, and what made it even better were the countless books. Books everywhere. Coming up behind me, he reached around my back and handed me a beer. I had completely misjudged Colt. The boy I knew as a child was one thing, but the man standing in front of me now was something different altogether.

“Where’d all these knickknacks come from? They look like they’re from all over the world.”

“That’s because they are. After my injury in college, I took a year off to travel the world. I needed to get away from the one thing that I was tied to for so long. My parents hated that their son had failed them, and I couldn’t bear to look at them. If I had kept playing football, I’m not sure I would have seen and done all the things I did. I saw and felt the beaches in the Polynesian islands, played chess with a monk in India, helped a village of children in Africa. In a way, I feel the injury was a blessing. Experiencing all these things allowed me to appreciate the things I missed the most; like you.

He always had a way of making me blush.

Resting his chin on my shoulder, “You have an enormous collection of books here,” I said tugging on one of them.

“Just wanted to make sure it was an actual book, and not a secret hiding spot for porn,” I said with a laugh.

“Ouch, that hurt a little. Oh ye, of little faith,” he responded sounding wounded.

“Awww, did I hurt baby’s feelings?” I said swinging around to meet his gaze.

“Never sweetheart. I can handle it,” he confessed.

            “Let me ask you a question,” I said taking a sip of my beer.

“Anything.”

“Out of all your books, which is your favorite?”

“You are probably going to laugh at me.”

“Try me. There’s not much that could shock me,” I said touching his arm.

“My all time favorite, even after all these years, is Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie. With parents like mine, they weren’t exactly “kid” friendly. I was a boy forced to grow up too quickly. Whenever I read Peter Pan, I feel I get a bit of my childhood back.”

“You don’t ever wanna grow up?”

“Exactly, however I’m glad I did, or I wouldn’t have met you.” he added.

“I feel the same way,” I said trying to hold my composure. Instead of breaking down, I decided to walk around the room to change the topic.

            “Oh my gosh, how did you get a copy of this picture?” I said lifting up the frame of three girls eating orange popsicles.

            “I may or may not have bribed Kurt at the convenient store to print me a copy when Harley came to get the pictures developed. When I say I’ve liked you since we were kids, I wasn’t lying.”

            “I can’t believe you’ve kept this all these years.”

            “That was the first time I talked to you. Your innocence was adorable, but when our hands touched, I knew it was more than that,” he said rubbing my back. “I finally got the balls to talk to you at Bucky’s party, but then you ran out on me. I didn’t find out you left until Wyatt found me the next day, and heard what happened from Skye. I stayed away for a while because I didn’t want Paisley to harass you further. Once we graduated, I couldn’t stay away from you anymore. I wanted to get to know you better.”

            “I had no idea. I wish I had known. And you weren’t bothered by my weight?” I asked cautiously.

            “It was never a factor for me. I never looked on the outside when it came to you. Your personality, then and now, are the same, and I can’t get enough. You could have been a troll for all I cared, as long as your personality and attitude didn’t change.”

            “Are we talking, troll with the long, crazy hair, or are we talking scary, under the bridge trolls, here?” I said jokingly.

           “See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. Most women would take offense to the comment, but you see the humor in my personality. You get me, and I get you.”

            Not sure how to respond, I continued my scanning of the room. I noticed he had a vintage phonograph in the corner of the room. Walking over I ran my fingers over the metal speaker.

“Does it work or is it just for decoration?” I inquired.

“Oh, it works. Here, I’ll put something on,” he said setting his beer on the windowsill. Riffling through his huge collection, he pulled a record out. Carefully freeing it from its sleeve he placed the vinyl on the turntable. Hearing the initial crackle of the needle hitting the record brought back memories of dancing with Daddy when we were little. Immediately I heard Frank and knew I wasn’t going to be able to hold it together much longer. Peter Pan reminded me of chemo with mama and hearing Frank’s voice reminded me of Daddy so much.

On rainy summer days, Daddy would pull out the records to keep me occupied. As a child growing up in the middle of nowhere, activities were hard to find, so when Daddy pulled out his vinyls, he meant business.

“Daddy! Put on the records! I wanna dance,” I exclaimed.

“Ok, Care Bear. Calm down,” he said laughing. Dancing with daddy was my all-time favorite thing to do. Daddy let me stand on his toes while he whirled me around the living room floor. Frank Sinatra’s, “You make me feel so young,” rang throughout the house.

“Young lady,” he would say bowing down to me with extended hand.

“I would love to,” I whispered, taking his hand. As Daddy grabbed my hands and placed me on his feet, he started singing to me while we glided around the room. “…And even when I’m old and gray, I’m gonna feel the way I do today. You, you make me feel so young.” Frank was always my favorite.

As the song changed, I got so excited to see mama standing in the doorframe watching us dance. Mama was wearing a worn nightgown and a wrap to cover her balding head. Just then, daddy flung me into the air by the hands while Frank sang, “Come fly with me.” Twirling me around, the song faded as daddy landed me on the couch. Walking to mama, he presented his hand, “May I have this dance my dear?” Smiling, mama took daddy’s hand as he pulled her in, wrapping an arm around her waist, and extending their arms. Placing her cheek to daddy’s it looked as if daddy was lifting Mama off the floor, so she wouldn’t use too much energy. “When somebody loves you, it’s no good unless he loves you. Allll the way…” he would sing into her ear like it was their first dance.

I remember sitting on the couch cross-legged, watching them fall in love all over again. I was hoping I would have a love like that one day. Daddy loved mama so much. Even when she wasn’t sick, he never wasted a single minute, or second with her. They were the ideal couple, and I was privileged to see how a true gentleman should treat a woman he loved. I hope someday I have a love so all-consuming like that.

“Do you like Frank Sinatra?” Colt asked.

“He’s one of my favorites. As the song began, Colt took my beer putting it on the windowsill and requested my hand. “Ma’am,” he asked.

“Why thank you, sir,” I responded taking his hand.

Pulling me in close, he draped his hand around the small of my back just the way daddy used to with mama. Adoringly he pulled my hand to his chest, resting it to his heart as we danced around the room to, “The Way You Look Tonight.” Genuinely entertained we paraded around like two little kids at a cotillion.

As the track faded and a new one started, I couldn’t help but notice it was, “All The Way”, the last song I had seen my parents dance to before she became too weak to dance. Curling into Colt, I couldn’t help but be soothed by the vibrations from his chest as he sang to me. Getting caught up in the moment, I could feel my eyes misting just thinking about how Colt was my forever. He was the man I wanted to be with. He was the man I wanted to dance with when we were eighty years old. He was my love, just like mama was daddy’s.

“Carr? You ok?” Colt asked lifting my chin to look at him.

“Baby, why are you crying? I can change the song if you don’t like it,” he said concerned pulling away to look at my face.

“Oh no, no. It’s not the song at all. I love this song. Dancing and the song reminded me of my parents,” I confessed.

“How so?” he asked.

“Daddy used to dance with my mama to this song, just like this. As a little girl, I remember how much I admired them, and how badly I wanted to have that someday,” I said full of emotion.

“Carrington Grace Mason, you do sweetheart. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere,” he said pulling me in close. Wiping my tears away, he kissed me deeply.

“Would you like to stay the night?” Colt asked. “I think you’ve had a long day, and I want to make sure you get some sleep. I promise I’ll be a gentleman,” he said stating his case.