“Well, you’ll have to be disappointed. Ours are chewy.”
“That’s okay,” he said. “I’d rather have them different than... You know, almost the same but not quite right.”
“Yeah,” Callie said. “I’m sorry. It must seem really ridiculous to listen to someone complain about baking with their mom when they can bake with their mom.”
He shook his head. “No. I don’t think of it that way. I can afford to. If my parents were still here... They’d drive me nuts. I’m sure of it. You’re allowed to be irritated by your parents. Just because somebody else doesn’t have them, doesn’t mean you don’t have problems with yours.”
“Thank you.”
“No problem.” And there was something about the way the night had fallen outside the window that reminded him of last night. That made him think of the way they’d kissed then, and the way she’d felt his arms. And his memory was all too willing to cut out the fight they’d had surrounding it. And just imagine that kiss. The way it had felt to slide his tongue against hers. To hold that soft, strong body in his arms.
He took a step back. “I’m bushed. I better head to bed.”
“Okay.”
“See you tomorrow, Cal.”
“See you tomorrow.”
And he walked down the hall, toward the bedrooms, without looking back. Because if he looked back, there was no telling what he might do.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CALLIE WOKE BRIGHT and early, and irritated. Jake was already in the kitchen making coffee, and she found her eyes glued to the sight of him. His broad shoulders and back, his narrow waist. His muscular thighs.
And his... Well, his ass.
She had never really been transfixed by a man’s body before. But she couldn’t really move for all the effort it took to take him in. She didn’t like it. It made her feel exposed. Like when he’d kissed her that night, he’d peeled back a layer and left her damn near naked to everything around her.
It was terrible.
And when he turned around, and offered her a cup of the morning brew, she did her best to look casual. To look like she wasn’t just taking a visual tour of his every muscle.
And then a smile curved the corners of his mouth, and her stomach did something weird.
He was beautiful. He was really beautiful.
“I expect you’re about to head out for the shooting.”
“Yep. C-4 is involved.”
She rolled her eyes. “If Boone’s around, it usually is.”
“Why exactly?”
“I don’t know. He likes blowing shit up.”
“I mean, I don’t not like blowing shit up.”
“Who doesn’t like to blow shit up?” Callie asked. “It’s one of the great joys in life. I have to make frosting instead. That is not as much fun.”
“I’ll enjoy eating it later.”
“Bullshit,” she said.
But he smiled, and there was something wolfish about it, and it took that twisting feeling in her stomach and ramped it up even more. And she couldn’t even say she disliked it. Because it was strange and intense and made a pulse echo between her legs. And it felt... Good. Dangerous. Interesting. It was like getting on the back of a horse, not knowing how hard the ride would be. Not knowing how rough. That moment before everything went live.
It was like that, but different. More. Frightening and intimate and... There was something sort of shameful about it, and she found that made it a bit dirty and heated and bright. And she shouldn’t find that to be true, but she did. She nearly didn’t recognize herself. And that made her feel like she was drowning, right there on land, in a kitchen, staring at the man who was supposed to be her best friend in the whole world. Because there was suddenly something more exciting than rodeo. And it was something she shouldn’t even want. And it was something that wouldn’t go anywhere or get her anything. She blinked, and breezed through the moment. Made a conscious decision to let it pass by.
They rode back to the main house together, and she didn’t bother to greet her father and brothers as he went over to them. She just went straight into the house, straight for the kitchen. She was too irritated by the fact that they were having a man-only shooting party, and too irritated and thrown off-balance by the way she had been looking at Jake this morning.
“Hi, sweetheart,” her mom said, smiling.
And then she felt guilty, because her mom was so happy. So happy that Callie was with Jake, and so happy that she was here baking cookies. And Callie was lying.
“Hi.”
Her mom handed her an apron, and Callie put it on without complaint.
“Already have the sugar cookies ready to go. Some of them have already been baked and are ready to frost. And here we have the frosting colors.” She put them in front of Callie, her eyes shining. And Callie knew she was supposed to try and look excited.
“Yeah,” she said.
“Now,” she said. “I want to hear some details about this man of yours. And if you’re pregnant—”
“I’m not,” Callie said.
Her mom was still staring at her.
“I’m not.” Her voice went up half an octave that time.
“I just have a very hard time believing that he up and married you so quickly because he is that traditional.”
“He’s traditional,” Callie said.
“So you said. So he said. But it’s my experience that rodeo cowboys rarely are.”
“That’s a little bit too much information about you and Dad,” Callie said.
“Don’t get me wrong. I don’t mind it. I just... It’s not my experience.”
“Family is important to him,” she said, seeing it as a good opportunity to push into the conversation about Jake’s family. “So I guess he’s traditional because of that.”
Her mom handed her a plate of sugar cookies and began uncovering frosting bowls. Callie started mindlessly slapping icing onto the precut cookies.
“He doesn’t want to call you Mom because his mom died,” Callie said. “Both his parents did. It’s painful for him.”
Her mom’s face contorted with sympathy.
“Oh, dear. I wish I would’ve known. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean... I can understand that. How he doesn’t want to feel like he’s replacing them.”
“Well, maybe you can tell Dad. Because the subject of his family is going to come up, and I hope he doesn’t get interrogated up there shooting today. But hopefully it’ll just all be too loud and filled with explosions for any talking to happen. It was a long time ago, but I know it still bothers him.”