He chuckled, and the action sent warmth spreading through me, the kind of heat that was only his. “Love that sound,” I said softly. Colt glanced over at me in question. “My laugh?” I nodded. “Something about it. It’s gritty and imperfect but more real somehow.” He turned onto Emerson’s road, his fingers tightening on the wheel. “Feel the same way about your smile. It twists more to one side than the other, but it just makes me want to memorize the shape.” Pain speared through me. Somewhere along the line, I’d messed up. Because this thing between Colt and me wasn’t just fun and games. It was
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