Firefly Night

CHAPTER 14.5

Colt nodded, his expression softening, and without another word, he paid the bill.

We made our way out of the bar, the cool night air hitting us as we stepped outside. The crispness was a welcome contrast to the heat and noise inside, but there was still that electric charge between us, humming with every glance, every accidental brush of his hand against mine.

Colt walked ahead of me, leading the way to his truck parked under the dim glow of a streetlight. When he reached the passenger side, he paused, his hand resting on the door handle as he turned to look at me. There was something in his eyes—an intensity that had been simmering all night, just waiting for the right moment to boil over.

"Get in, Lemon," he said, his voice carrying that familiar low, gravelly tone, but there was a softness to it too, like he was giving me a choice while making it clear what he hoped I'd decide.

I hesitated for a brief second as I met his gaze. With a nod, I slid into the seat, feeling the cool leather against my legs. Colt closed the door with a quiet thud, and I watched as he walked around the front of the truck, his silhouette sharp against the backdrop of the dark sky.

When he got in on his side he turned the key, and the engine roared to life, the sound breaking the silence that had settled between us.

Colt's hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white in the glow of the dashboard lights. I stole glances at him, noting the way his jaw was set, the way his eyes flicked from the road to me and back again, like he was battling some internal struggle.

"Colt," I said softly, breaking the silence. I wasn't even sure what I wanted to say, but his name was the only thing I could think of in that moment.

He glanced at me, his expression unreadable. "Yeah?"

"Are we... What are we doing?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them, and I immediately wished I could take them back. But they were out there now, hanging between us in the thick air of the cab.

He was quiet for a beat, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice rougher then before, like he was dragging the words up from somewhere deep. "But I know I don't want to stop."

"I don't want to stop either," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, but I knew he heard it. The way his shoulders relaxed just slightly told me that much.

We continued down the dirt road, the headlights cutting through the darkness as the familiar silhouette of the ranch house came into view. Colt slowed the truck, turning onto the gravel driveway that led up to the barn. He killed the engine, and we sat there for a moment, the quiet settling in around us like a blanket.

"This... this doesn't have to be anything," I said, unsure if I was trying to convince him or myself. "We don't have to figure it out tonight."

Colt didn't say anything, but the silence between us was thick with everything left unsaid. His hand gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white, and I could see the tension in his jaw as he stared straight ahead. For a moment, I thought he might start the engine again, take me back to the bar, or maybe even drive off alone into the night. But then, without a word, he opened his door and climbed out of the truck, the gravel crunching beneath his boots.

I watched him walk around to my side, the cool night air rushing in as he opened my door. He didn't meet my eyes, just held out his hand, a silent invitation. I took it, my pulse quickening as I slid out of the seat and stood beside him.

Colt didn't say a word as he led me toward the barn, his strides purposeful, like he was walking to a destination he'd been heading toward for a long time. I followed him, my hand still in his, the tension between us taut, electric. The barn door creaked as he pushed it open, the familiar smell of hay and wood enveloping us as we stepped inside.