The Consequence of Loving Colton

“Hilarious.”

He looked behind him and smirked. “Hey, they were hungry.”

On the officer’s desk was an entire box of doughnuts. Max thought it would help lower the tension while he tried to work his magic and bail me out of jail. Then again, it wasn’t like we hadn’t been treated nicely.

And it wasn’t the first time I’d been in jail with Colton.

All in all we’d been in jail at least three times together; our own parents called the cops on us once. Embarrassing to say the least. I knew Jason wouldn’t have put us behind bars if there had actually been criminals in the small prison, but it was just us, which meant he either was trying to make a point or needed our undivided attention away from the family.

He was in the corner smiling—happy as a clam, that one.

Max’s cell phone rang. “Be right back.”

“Max, don’t leave me!”

“Hey, I have a wedding to save. You come second.” He blew me a kiss and walked off.

“Real winner you have there.” Colton snorted. “Seriously, I think sainthood’s in his future.”

“Cold?” I tilted my head as Colton let out another shiver. He was still wet from his swim in the pool. He’d been given a blanket, but I could tell he was still suffering from the chills.

“Nope. Hot. Sweating. Sweltering. On fire.” He glared.

“Fine, drop your pants and prove it.”

“That proves nothing!” he roared, turning bright red.

“It proves a little bit of something.” I winked. “Wouldn’t you say?”

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Funny.” I took a seat next to him. “You said that last time we landed in jail.”

“Again.” He scowled. “Your fault.”

“Please!” I pushed against him. “That was not my fault and you know it!”

“You set the church on fire.”

I picked my fingernails and looked down. “In my defense, you pushed me into the candles.”

“Because you taunted me!” His voice rose. “You kept saying, ‘Colton, jump! Colton, jump!’ It was the frigging balcony!”

“Ten feet.” I fought to keep my voice even. “I told you to jump ten feet.”

“It was more than ten.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Was.” He held up his hand. “Can we not argue?”

“Why? You gonna shut me up by kissing me again?”

He froze and then stared at my lips like a man starved. “That depends, are you going to kiss me back like you have been? Every. Damn. Time.”

If he thought I was kissing him back that second time then he was in for a rude awakening.

“Are you blaming me for kissing you back?”

“I’m just saying it takes two.” He shrugged. “That’s all.”

“Right, that’s all you’re saying.”

“Damn it!” He grabbed me by the shoulders. “Do you have to have the last word all the time?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Well?”

“I was trying not to have the last word.”

He released me and ran his hands through his hair. “Damn it to hell, you irritate me.”

I flinched and slid away from him.

“Milo,” he growled. “Not like that, it’s not—”

“You’re free!” Max appeared in front of the cell, dangling handcuffs in front of his face. “Oh, and I’m keeping these for later.”

He winked.

I made a face. “Gross.”

“Gross?” Max and Colton said in unison.

“Er, metal. I don’t like metal during—” Yeah, I couldn’t finish that sentence.

“Sex.” Max nodded. “Sorry, babe, I know I should remember you don’t like to be handcuffed to the bed, it’s just I always seem to forget, you know? Maybe it’s because most of my fantasies involve—oh, look, there’s Jason, be right back!”

I stole a glance at Colton. He was gripping the edge of the bench so hard I thought he was going to go all Hercules on me and break it off.

“You okay?”

“Please don’t talk,” he said in a hoarse voice.

“Look, he’s kidding, Max and I haven’t . . .” I shook my head. “We haven’t.”

“You haven’t?” His eye twitched.

“Done that.”

“Handcuffs.”

“Sex.”

“I bet he’s terrible at it. I bet he cries afterwards and sucks his thumb,” Colton said, laughing, and then he swore. “Said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Yup.”

“Shit.”

“You okay?” I touched his shoulder.

“No.” He bit down on his lip. “I’m either going to kill your fiancé by the end of the day or just drown myself in the pool. At this point it’s a toss-up.”

“If I punched you, would you feel better?”

“No.” He swallowed. “But you could kiss me again.”

My head snapped up.

“Sorry, guys!” Max walked back up to the cell and laughed. “That Jason’s hilarious. Oh, and P.S. We’re sending the local Russian mafia after Jayne.” He made a cutting motion at his throat.

“He’s kidding.” Jason came up behind him and slapped him on the back. ns class="adsbygoogle" style="display:block" data-ad-client="ca-pub-7451196230453695" data-ad-slot="9930101810" data-ad-format="auto" data-full-width-responsive="true">