“You have a great support system.” There isn’t a lot of stability for Kaitlyn, going from home to home, but I guess they’re doing what they have to do to get by. A measure of guilt gnaws at me. I should have been there for him over the years. Well, I’m here now. Maybe I can help him move on with his future.
“Yeah, I do,” he says but it’s what he’s not saying that tightens my throat. While he has numerous people there for him and Kaitlyn, no one can take the place of his wife, and I have to agree.
“Drink?” he asks as children’s laughter trickles in through the open windows and fills the house. A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth. When Brad and I first got together he was so damn charming and I used to dream about having a family with him. Now that I’m single, recuperating from an abusive relationship, I just want to keep a low profile and try to find myself again. As much as I want kids, I’m not sure I see it happening.
He opens the fridge and leans in. “Wine or beer?” I stand, unable to sit idle while someone serves me and step up behind him to see what he’s offering.
“If we’re having pizza, I think that calls for a beer,” I say.
“I knew there was a reason I always liked you,” he says and turns around, bumping into me again. I stumble backward, but he slides his free hand around my waist. The other is holding two beers. He pulls me to him and I become acutely aware of the strength in his body as it presses against mine. “Sorry, Gemma. I didn’t know you were standing there.”
“We have to stop meeting like this,” I tease, but dammit, my voice holds a hint of arousal that I pray he doesn’t pick up on.
He laughs. “You’re kind of stealthy.”
“It’s always been one of my finer qualities. It’s at the top of my resume, actually. Bachelor of education, pianist, stealthy,” I tease. Why isn’t he letting me go? Better yet, why don’t I want him to? “It’s a skill that helped me get a job teaching English to seventh graders.”
“The school needed a stealthy teacher for that, did they?”
I open my eyes wide in mock surprise. “You clearly have no idea how sneaky teenagers can be with their phones, especially when it comes to cheating.”
He arches a brow, and his clean soapy scent fills my lungs. “Ah, so you have the ability to sneak up on that and catch them in the act.”
“That’s right.”
“You’ll have to teach me that. Kaitlyn is six going on thirteen.”
I chuckle, but it comes out rough and hoarse. “I’m sorry to say it’s not teachable. You’re either born with it or you’re not. Sadly, I think you lack the skill, Callan. You’re too big to be stealthy.”
“Too big, huh?” He angles his head. “Wait, is that a sideways compliment, like the hippo?”
His heat moves through me, trickles through my blood and settles between my legs. My God, what is going on with me? This is Callan. I can’t go there with him. He’s not over his late wife, and never will be—which is unfortunate because everyone deserves happiness—and the last thing he’s likely looking for is a relationship. A brief affair, however.
Wait, what?
“Not a sideways compliment, Callan. It’s a compliment. I remember every girl wanted to be with you back in high school.”
Myself included.
His hand slides from my back, leaving cold where there was once warmth. Okay, Gemma, that’s your cue to move backward, put a measure of space between our bodies.
Why the hell aren’t I moving back?
Because Callan is sweet, hot and fun, and I haven’t been around a man like that since...Callan. Still, he’s my late friend’s husband—a widower—and I shouldn’t be thinking inappropriate thoughts, like putting my hands on his hard, naked body, touching his flesh and caressing his hard muscles with my fingertips. Or him touching me in return. Since I broke things off with Brad, I’ve not looked at another man, haven’t wanted to. But there’s something so incredibly safe and warm about Callan. I don’t know. Everything about him draws me in. Probably because he’s big and strong, and comes with his own gravitational pull.
“That’s not true,” he says.
I lift my finger and start checking things off. “Captain of the football team, good student, always nice to everyone. Even the new girls in town. But you were with…” Shit. Shit. Shit. What is the matter with me? I shouldn’t be bringing up painful memories for him. I back up and fall into my chair.
“I was with Zoe,” he says, his body tight.
I shake my head and mentally kick myself. “Yeah, sorry, I didn’t mean to bring her up.”
He drops down into the chair next to me and pulls it close until our knees are almost touching. “It’s okay to talk about her, Gemma. I like that people remember her.”
I blink through the water in my eyes. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Okay, I just didn’t know.” Without even realizing it, I lean into him, and put my hand on his face, his late day shadow prickly against my palm. “She was the best, Callan.”
His nod is slow, his voice tight when he says, “I know.”
The front door flings open and Callan pushes to his feet and turns toward his daughter as she rushes down the hallway. “I need a drink,” Kaitlyn says.
“Right,” Callan says, and grabs a drink glass from the cupboard. He turns on the tap and runs it until it’s cold.
Kaitlyn glances around. “Is the pizza ready?” Callan hands her a tall glass of water and she gulps it. My hand goes to my stomach as I watch her, a sense of longing building inside me.
“Not yet,” Callan says.
“Can Liam have pizza with us?” she asks as she hands the drink glass back.
Callan shrugs. “I guess. If it’s okay with his mother.”
“It’s okay with her,” Kaitlyn says and swipes the back of her hand over her mouth, wiping away the traces of ice cream and water on her face.
“How do you know that?” Callan asks.
“We already asked her.”
He arches a brow at me. “You okay with Liam coming over?”
“Of course. I love kids and two is much easier than thirty.”
“I can’t even imagine.” Callan laughs and shakes his head. “Fine, he can come for pizza. I’ll call you both when it’s ready. Remember the rules. Do not go on the road.”
She gives an exasperated sigh. “I’m not a baby.”
“Oh, I know,” Callan says and cracks the beers. The door slams shut as he fills our glasses and hands one to me.
“You do have your hands full.”
“Like I said, six going on thirteen.”
“Good thing she has a big strong daddy to frighten all the boys off.”
“A big strong daddy who owns a gun.”
I laugh at that. “I pity the boys who ask her out when she’s older.”
“You should,” he jokes and opens his pantry. He pulls out flour and sugar and some other things, and I kick my legs out as I watch him. Warmth moves through me, probably from the beer—I am such a light-weight—but the truth is, I haven’t relaxed in a long time. Everything about this place screams love, home and heart. It’s so easy to be here.