20

Record High - Randall King

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CHARLIE

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"We have a suspect, or suspects and a diagnosis," my mother tells us as we walk into the house. I had just returned home from work, and she was here to pick Luke up.

"Who?"

"They poisoned with roundup. Had to go through at least several cans each. There are at least five different people who were involved in the poisoning. The one they have in custody works for one of the apple houses off the highway." There were two apple houses off the highway, across the road from one another. There is a high chance they could have been working together.

"Anyone we know?"

"They won't release a name yet. He also won't speak. Won't utter a word. They're calling in the owners of both the houses to interrogate them."

"Idiots."

"Colt, thank you again for taking Luke for the day. Truly meant the world."

Those two have had a busy day, as Colt informed me. They were up before I was, feeding the animals before sunrise. I'm not sure why because Colt never is up that early, but I think he wanted to show Luke what being a cowboy was all about.

My brother lies passed out on the couch, still in his jeans and boots from earlier, finally done for the day. "He will sleep all night. We worked hard today," Colt tells my mother.

My mom walks over to the couch and wakes him, "Luke, Honey, you ready to go home?"

He yawns, stretching, "I had the best day, Mom. Colt taught me to ride."

"Well, I guess you better be ready for him to become a cowboy next. It's an addiction," he tells my mom. Luke pushes off the couch, grabbing his bag. He gives each of us a hug before leaving the two of us alone.

Colt walks up to me, kissing me softly, "When am I gonna have some time alone with you? It feels like someone is always around."

"I'm yours for tonight."

He kisses me again, grabbing my butt, "Good. Your brother and I cooked dinner for you."

"What did you make?"

"Taught him to make lasagna." He walks into the kitchen, grabs a pot holder, then reaches into the oven to grab the delicious-smelling food.

He makes Lucky's dinner first, which he, of course, gobbles down gladly. We recently just got him a slow feeder bowl since he thinks we will take the food away from him every time.

He cuts me a slice of lasagna, puts it on a plate, and hands it to me. He makes another plate for himself and sits beside me at the kitchen table. I take a bite, almost burning my tongue off because it was so hot, letting it fall back on the plate.

"So what all did you make my brother do today?" I ask him while I wait for the food to cool off.

Colt leans back in his chair, "Well, first, we woke up and fed everybody. We let them out to the pastures. Cleaned stalls. After chores were done, I let him saddle up Seven, and he rode her for a bit, still getting used to the horse. Then I went and saddled up Major, and we took them out into the pasture, and I showed him the property and the cows. Seven was an Angel the entire time. Then we came back here and did some yard work, cooked, and he took a nap on the couch."

"Thank you, Colt. I hate that all of us are always too busy to spend all day with him. I know that sounds horrible, but my parents dedicate their lives to the orchard, leaving little time for him. Besides taking him to practices and stuff, we never just hang out."

"Yeah, I won't lie, he ate the attention up. Never left my side for a minute. Told him he could help me out anytime he wanted. He's a good one to have help on the farm."

"He loves working with my dad when he goes on the tractor. He pretends to let him drive, and then he'll let him shake the trees with the claw."

We finish dinner, clean up, and cuddle on the couch. We watch the Braves baseball game, and it reminds me that football will start again soon. Thank God. I like baseball, but it is so boring and too slow for me. At least with football, you're constantly moving.

I annoy Colt as we sit beside each other, playing with chest hair. "Stop, Charlie," he says as I run my hand tenderly across his chest. I continue to run my finger down his chest, inching towards his belly button. He grabbed my finger and glared at me while I bit my lip, "didn't I say stop?" I take my free hand and run it across the hem of his jeans. He grabs my other hand, yanking it above my head as he throws my back onto seat, hovering over me, "You are a naughty girl, Charlie."

I smile through my bit lip, not responding to him. I try to yank my hands out of his grip, but it doesn't budge. His lips hover over mine, inches away from me. He has me pinned, so I can't reach them. He puts my arms in one hand and reaches the other down to my waist. He runs his hand across the hem of my pants. Payback. I shiver at his touch, closing my eyes as his finger crosses the middle, dipping slightly inside my pants. "Colt," I breathed, squirming, trying to get out of his grip.

He devilishly smiled, letting go of my hands, still hovering over me, "tease," he said before bending down to kiss my neck.

My arms wrap around his shoulders, feeling the warmness of his body. He pulls away and gets up. I sit up, confused, as he walks to the bedroom, pulling his shirt off. Bastard.

I sigh before standing up and following him. When I walk into the bedroom, he's nowhere to be found. I walk into the bathroom and see him standing at the bathroom mirror, holding a razor. He sees me and looks at me through the mirror, "should I shave everything?"

Is he really doing this right now? Evil man. "Shave everything but the stashe. That's my favorite look." It was how he looked when I met him. The mustache cowboy hat combo made me weak at the knees.

I lean against the door frame as I watch him load his face with shaving cream, his face becoming bare. I suck my bottom lip when he turns to face me after he finishes. "You like?" He says, feeling his soft face again.

I walk towards him, placing my hands on the sides of his jaw, feeling the smoothness. "I love," I say, rubbing my thumb over his mustache. "Reminds me of the day I met you."

"Did I win you over with the stashe?"

I wrap my arms around his neck, "that was one of the things."

His mouth kissed my jaw. I closed my eyes, feeling the touch of his lips on my skin. "Tell me what else you liked about me."

I kissed his lips, "Your cowboy hat," I kissed him again, "When you put your hand on my back, it made me weak at the knees." Again, "When I found out you had a lucky tattoo," again, "Dancing with me at the concert." Again, "Being the only man who has made me come," I kissed him one last time, "There's plenty of others, but there's a few."

"I've been thinking about getting another tattoo," he says, running his fingers through my hair.

"What would you get?"

"A horseshoe."

"Another lucky symbol?"

He grins, "Well, not to brag, but I've been the luckiest man alive since I moved here. I should show my gratitude."

"I could get another one, too."

"Like marching ones?"

I shrug, "Why not? It would mean a lot to me."

His eyes widened, "okay then. It's settled. We can get matching ones."

I kiss him again, letting him slowly lay me on the bed. My phone rings, and I groan, looking at my watch. My mother. I sit up, looking for my phone since it may be an important call. I answer it, and the first thing she says is, "Your high school boyfriend, Troy, is involved with the poisoning. They've got him, taking him in for questioning."

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