Stick in the Mud Meets Spontaneity (Meet Your Match, book 3) (12 page)

Once it had all come together, Sam had clapped her hands and said, “I told you it would be charming. I love it!”

Colton had to agree. All of Sam’s little touches—the vase of fresh flowers on the table, the throw draped over the arm chair that she’d found in the closet, and the family picture she’d gotten from his mother—made the space feel warmer and softer, like her. And if Sam approved, maybe she’d want to come over and hang out sometime. Maybe even a lot of times.

That was before she’d said her goodbyes yesterday.

Colton had known it was coming. She was filling in until Cassie returned from her trip and that was it. But everything had been going so well, and she seemed like she was having a good time. Colton had hoped she’d decide to keep driving Kajsa, or better yet, come on her own with no other reason than to hang out. He wasn’t ready to let her out of his life just yet.

Ready or not, though, she was gone, and like it or not, he had to get used to that. Sam wasn’t a staying type of girl, anyway. She had too many ambitions. Too many goals. The ranch and Colton had only been a fun little diversion to help pass the time.

He really hated the way his stomach tightened when he thought of never seeing that yellow Bug come up the lane, stirring up a cloud of dust behind it.

Maybe he should have asked her out. Maybe he should have tried to convince her that flings were overrated and that cowboys were underrated.

Footsteps sounded behind him, squeaking the floorboards on the front porch. Colton turned around to find his mother standing there, holding a tinfoil-covered plate of something.

“You left without eating,” she said, a little out of breath.

“I ate a bowl of cereal and a piece of toast.”

“That’s not a breakfast.” She shoved the plate into his hands. “This is a breakfast.”

Colton could feel that the food was still warm, and it smelled wonderful. “Thanks, Mom. But I’m moving out of the house to become more independent, and that means making my own breakfast.”

“Or pouring it from a cardboard box?” She made a face, and he smiled.

“Or pouring it from a cardboard box.”

She let out a sigh that sounded like I-may-not-like-it-but-its-your-life-to-live then looked around, walking farther into the room. “Wow, you really cleaned this place up.”

“It was mostly Samantha’s doing.”

His mother toed the rug. “Is this new?”

“Samantha brought it over. One of her mom’s client’s was moving and didn’t want it anymore, so Samantha showed up with it a few days ago, rolled up and sticking out the back of her trunk.” Colton smiled at the memory. Maybe the little yellow Bug was good for something after all.

“It looks nice.”

“I think so.”

She cocked her head to the side and eyed her son. “You two seem to get along so great that I thought you might…” her voice drifted off, and she waved her hand. “Well, never mind. I guess I thought wrong.”

“I like her, but I really don’t think she’d be interested in a guy like me long-term.”

“Why would you say that?”

Colton set the plate on the counter and opened and closed a few drawers before he found the cheap silverware he’d picked up at the store last week. He pulled out a fork and palmed the counter. “She’s too spontaneous and adventurous for ranching life. Coming here… well, it was something new and exciting to experience. But now that she’s experienced it, she’ll move on to something else that’s new and exciting. Trust me.”

His mother walked forward, placing her hands on the side of his face. “I’m only going to say this once, because, like you moving to The Shack, I know you need to live your own life your own way. But I can’t let a comment like that slide with no response. You are handsome, talented, hardworking, and—most importantly—a good man. A girl would have to be blind not to see that. But if you find a girl you’re interested in and don’t make your interest clear, she might walk out of your life for the same reasons you’re letting her walk out.”

His mother gave his cheek a pat, and her expression softened. “I like Sam. A lot. And I’m pretty sure that she likes you. No girl would help you do all this”—she gestured around her—“if she didn’t. But if you’re not willing to do anything about that then… perhaps it’s a good thing she won’t be coming around much anymore.”

She blew a kiss to her son and walked out the door, leaving him with some food for thought as well as food for his stomach. For the first time since meeting Samantha and reading her crazy bucket list, Colton considered doing more than offering her riding lessons, accepting her help with The Shack, and saying nothing when she said goodbye. His fork tapped against the counter as he considered what exactly “more” would entail.

Out the large front window, a yellow Bug puttered down the lane, passing by The Shack on its way to the ranch. Kajsa sat in the passenger seat with her hand flying through the air, and adjacent to her was a perky profile wearing a tarnished-straw cowboy hat.

Colton tossed the fork in the sink and slid the breakfast plate into the microwave before walking into the slightly overcast June morning. There was a good possibility that Sam was only here because Cassie had too much going on and needed her to drive one last time, but Colton still considered it a second chance. This time, when she said goodbye, he wouldn’t sit by and do nothing.

Colton strode toward the main house, feeling lightness in his feet and anxiousness in his chest. The last time he’d been this excited about a girl, they’d dated for a month before she informed him that she was looking for a man with a little more sophistication. Initially, her rejection had wounded him until he realized she was right. She’d loved her high heels, her flouncy skirts, and her perfect, pale complexion. She hadn’t loved the ranch—or Colton, as it turned out.

Samantha, on the other hand, had embraced everything about his life—bumps, bruises, dead mice, wild horses, and all. If Colton didn’t at least try to see what could happen, he’d always wonder.

As he approached the house, Samantha stood next to the corral, waving a long carrot with bushy green stems at Maj. A few roots dangled from the end as though she’d just plucked the vegetable from the ground. Maj stood on the opposite side of the corral, making no move to accept her offering. She sniffed and stomped the ground with her front hoof.

Samantha raised her voice. “I’ll have you know, this is no ordinary carrot. It’s an expensive, home grown,
organic
carrot that I picked up at the farmer’s market this morning for no one else but yours truly. Are you really going to turn your nose up at it? Because I know plenty of other horses who would love it.”

Maj turned around, directing her backside toward Samantha.

The carrot dropped to Samantha’s side, and she frowned. “Fine. I’ll just give this to Nutmeg then.” She took a slow step sideways, as though making a show of following through with her threat.

Colton had to bite his lip to keep from laughing and giving himself away. Did she really think reverse psychology would work on a horse?

Sam stopped. “Actually, you know what? I think I’m going to eat the carrot myself instead.” She ripped off the roots before taking a small bite and munching it. Then she crawled to the top of the fence, swung her legs over, and took another bite. “Mmm, this is the best carrot I’ve ever eaten. You sure you don’t want any?”

Maj responded by sniffing at a small cluster of weeds near a post and munching on that.

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Seriously? You’d rather eat weeds? What are you trying to prove anyway? That you’re more stubborn than me? That you’d rather eat garbage than give me the time of day? What is so wrong with me anyway? I am a likeable person. Ask anyone—even my dad. He’ll tell you—”

Colton coughed out a laugh—he couldn’t help it.

Samantha spun around and nearly lost her seat on the fence as she gaped at him. “How long have you been standing there?”

Colton rested his elbows on the fence next to her, still grinning. “If you’re going to use your father as an endorsement, I wouldn’t call him dad. It removes all credibility.”

Samantha stepped off the fence and handed over the carrot. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if she stiffs you, too.”

The moment the vegetable exchanged hands, Maj glanced over her shoulder and gradually meandered her way across the corral to where Colton stood. The punk.

Instead
of feeding the mustang the carrot, Colton took Samantha’s hand and placed the carrot on her palm, curling her fingers around it. Still holding her hand, he held out the vegetable. “If you want this carrot,” he said to Maj, “you’re going to eat it from both of us.”

Maj sniffed, bobbed her head a few times, then walked away. Sam immediately pried her hand free and tossed the carrot in the corral. Then she turned her back on the horse and folded her arms in frustration. It was an adorable look on her.

Colton leaned a shoulder against the fence. “Why do you suddenly want her to like you so much?”

“Because she likes everyone else. And if I’m the only one she can’t stand, what does that say about me?”

Colton watched her a moment longer before clearing his throat. “I can’t speak for the horse, but I like you just fine.”

Colton wanted to gag on his own words.
Just fine?
Had he really made it sound like she was an average pair of jeans that he liked
okay
?

“Um… wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel better,” said Samantha, obviously unimpressed by his pathetic attempt at a compliment.

“I’m sorry. That came out wrong. What I meant to say is that I like you. A lot. In fact, I’m hoping you’ll agree to go out with me this weekend.”

Her brows drew together. “If you’re only asking me because you want to make me feel better, I’d rather you didn’t. There’s nothing worse than a pity date.”

“It’s not a pity date.”

“You sure?”

“Let me put it this way. If you tried to feed me a carrot, I’d eat it in a heartbeat.”

Her eyes widened briefly before a giggle escaped from her mouth. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“And I can’t believe you haven’t said yes yet.”

“I, um—”

From across the corral Maj whinnied, as though she realized the attention was no longer on her. Colton waved a hand in a dismissive way, his eyes still focused on Samantha. Not many girls could pull off the cowboy hat the way she could. She’d chosen one with style; one that complemented her green eyes, high cheekbones, and fountain of curls, and yet there was no pretense or show about her—as though she had no idea how gorgeous she looked or how attractive he found her.

He cocked his head to the side, wishing his heart would stop hammering. “So how ’bout it? Is it date or not?”

She hesitated a moment longer before giving him a slight nod. “All right, cowboy. It’s a date.”

Colton took one step back, then two, trying to keep himself from grinning like an idiot. “I’ll pick you up at six-thirty on Friday.” Then he turned around and headed toward the barn.

“Wait. Where are we going?”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“But how should I dress?”

He turned back and let his eyes take her in a moment longer. A light breeze lifted her hair, the shade from her hat darkened her eyes, and her pink shirt and dark jeans hugged her beautiful curves. “You look perfect exactly as you are.”

Her brow wrinkled and she looked down at her clothes. “Please tell me I can wear something besides a hat, boots, and jeans.”

Colton lost the battle to the grin. “Wear whatever you’d like, but keep in mind that you just agreed to go out with a cowboy.” He continued toward the barn, pretending not to hear her mutter, “That’s not helpful.”

He chuckled as he passed through the door and into the muggy barn, mentally patting himself on the back for converting a goodbye into a see-you-soon.

Keep in mind you agreed to go out with a cowboy
, Sam thought of Colton’s words as she studied her reflection, not happy with the same old boring jeans, the same straw hat, and the same brown boots. Why couldn’t she wear her favorite wedge sandals, the knee-length white, eyelet skirt that made her feel flirty and feminine, and the turquoise blouse that brightened her eyes? She could have looked fantastic tonight. Instead, she looked her usual, non-wowing normal.