When we arrived at his house, I parked where he’d pointed—in the driveway next to a gold Lexus that I assumed to be Lindy’s—and got out.
We arrived at the passenger side door that Bram leaned against.
“Fucker,” Callum said underneath his breath.
He yanked open the door, and surprisingly, Bram didn’t fall out.
He woke up from his slumber, though, and cursed.
“God, Mimi. I fuckin’ hate you,” he grumbled. “Fucking hate.”
My brows went up at that, and I looked at Callum.
He shrugged. “Don’t ask me. When I left for the military, they were thick as thieves. When I got back, they were broken up, and he was married to Dorcas.”
“Wow,” I said as I backed up and allowed Callum to help Bram out of the car. “And he didn’t say anything more to that?”
“Not for my lack of trying,” he disagreed. “And tonight was the first time I’ve seen Mimi in years.”
The questions were definitely piling up.
“Come on, asshole.” Callum used his considerable strength to get Bram up. “Let’s get moving.”
When we both stumbled inside with Bram between us—my God he was heavy—we nearly dropped him the moment we crossed over the threshold.
The only thing that saved him from taking an unplanned face-plant into the front carpet was Lindy.
Lindy who was definitely pissed as hell to see us stumbling in so late.
“What are you doing?” she screeched.
Callum readjusted his hold and helped carry more of his weight as he said, “Move or he’s gonna land on top of you.”
Lindy hastily moved, stomping into her room and leaving us alone.
“Swear to God,” Callum grumbled. “I need a new house.”
I snickered as we made our way into the kitchen.
Callum was definitely carrying more of his weight than I was, but still, the damn man was solid muscle and really heavy.
Meaning, when Callum said drop him, I dropped him.
Bram hit the ground with a solid thud and groaned as he moved onto his back.
We both watched dispassionately as he settled.
“That was a fuckin’ feat,” Callum grumbled.
I giggled and bumped him with my shoulder. “You mind if I use your bathroom?”
Callum jerked his head toward his bedroom, and I hurried toward it, running water over my sweating face the moment that I got in the door.
I worked out.
A lot.
But carrying that large man inside had nearly killed me.
After I was cooled down, I used the bathroom, washed my hands, and then made my way into Callum’s bedroom to find him sitting on the edge of his bed waiting for me.
I smiled at him, not meeting his eyes, very much aware of the intimacy of being in his room.
“I guess I better go,” I admitted, not looking forward to going home.
And not necessarily because of Teller.
Because I didn’t want to leave where I was at, entirely because of who I was with.
When I took a step back, he stood.
He caught my hand before I could take a step toward the door.
His gaze were boring into mine when he said softly, “Stay?”
I felt the butterflies take flight in my belly as I said, “I’d need a shower… I can’t sleep with all this dirt on me.”
He grinned. “I have one of those.”
God, that grin did things to me.
“Then I’d like to use it.” I smiled. “And borrow another shirt.”
He laughed and jerked his head back toward the bathroom. “I have one of those, too.”
After using his shower to wash the dirt of the night off of me—I loved dirt track racing, but it was a messy hobby to have—I stepped out to find a t-shirt on the counter. No boxer shorts like last time.
It didn’t matter. Last time they were so big on me that they hadn’t stayed put.
He’d remembered.
Picking my dirty clothes up and tossing them onto the counter next to the sink, I headed back into the bedroom, more than aware of how things jiggled underneath the large shirt.
My eyes immediately went to Callum, who had wet hair, and lay with the sheet covering his lower half.
Callum’s hair was normally on the wilder side, but after the shower, it was somewhat tamed. His beard was combed, too.
And oh, God. His bare chest was stunning.
I’d seen it before, of course, in flashes.
But getting to stare at it now, in real time, with him holding still? Yeah, that was life changing.
God, he looked so good.
Wide shoulders, tanned skin that denoted he spent a lot of time mowing his lawns with his shirt off, and a deep V that led to his lower body.
Surprisingly, the one thing he didn’t have was a set of abs, and I kind of really liked that.
Big dude. Impressive shoulders and chest, and a stomach that meant he wasn’t so focused on his body that he didn’t have time to savor the finer things in life.
Which worked out great for me, because my love language was food.
I loved eating it.
And to see a big man like Callum clearly loving it, too? Well that just meant that we were soul mates.
Getting my mind off of what it would be like to be with Callum permanently, eating what we wanted, working out to control our eating habits, and generally being with him forever?
That sounded like heaven to me.
“You have another shower?” I asked curiously, trying to get my mind off of anything that wasn’t what was underneath that sheet. Or above the sheet. Or anything to do with Callum in general.
Was he wearing underwear? Did he have pants on? Did he wear boxers or briefs? My first guess was boxers since that was what he gave me when I’d needed something to wear, but he didn’t strike me as a boxers guy for some reason.
If I were being honest, he struck me as a ‘nothing’ kind of guy.
He grinned. “Nope. We have a pool. Jumped into it, used the outside shower to finish rinsing off.” He paused. “Sometimes I use the shower out there because it’s run on a separate water heater, and Lindy likes to be a bitch every once in a while, and use all of it on purpose, just because she knows that I love hot showers.”
I tilted my head in amusement. “Oh. Do you need the bathroom?”
He stood up and nodded. “Yes. Need to brush.”
That was when I got my answer on what was underneath the sheet.
Boxers.
For some reason, I was bummed slightly to know that he wore boxers, but I wouldn’t show it.
He took in my face, which was slightly crestfallen, and assumed that he knew why I was grimacing—i.e., I hadn’t brushed my teeth.
“I have a toothbrush underneath the sink. Come on,” he urged.
I followed, watching his large muscular back twitch and sway each time he moved a muscle.
He was squatted down, and the non-stretchy material of his boxers rode up his impressive thighs as he reached underneath the cabinet.
He came out with a toothbrush, turned and handed it to me.
I took it with noticeably shaking hands, which he noted.
“You okay?” he asked, eyes taking in my legs.
I swallowed hard and said, “Yep.”
I was not okay.
I was bursting at the seams here.
The man was hitting every single button I had, and I was lit up like a freakin’ Christmas tree.