“Thanks.” He pulled her close for a quick hug. “Steven texted that the new order of cabinets is almost ready. That should keep things on schedule.”
“I never doubted either of you,” she said.
After checking in with the on-site foreman, Callum drove over to the future site of The Shoppes at Rambling Rose, which was scheduled to open after the veterinary clinic, and then checked out progress at the spa. He thought about what could happen if he decided to make Rambling Rose his permanent home. His stomach pitched in response. A benefit to keeping his connections to the communities where he worked casual was he had no fear of being forced to put down roots or disappointing anyone when he couldn’t. He was like a revitalization fairy godfather, swooping in to make changes, then moving on to the next big thing before anyone expected too much of him.
Callum wasn’t sure if he had the capacity to change who he was now, even if he tried.
* * *
“Thank you so much for agreeing to stay with them.” Becky offered Callum’s sister a grateful smile. “They can be a handful.”
“I’m used to multiple energy thanks to the triplets,” Stephanie answered. Her shiny hair was pulled back into a loose bun and she wore a casual sweater and faded jeans, the epitome of effortless beauty. “And I love babies at this age.” She grinned as Sasha started a game of peekaboo. Never wanting to relinquish the spotlight to her sister, Luna also began hiding her face behind her blanket, then popping back out. “The three of us are going to have a great evening.” She met Becky’s gaze, understanding darkening her blue eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll text with updates and call if we need anything.”
Becky gave a jerky nod. “I left instructions on the counter.”
“We should go.” Callum put a gentle hand on her elbow. “I’m not sure they’ll hold the reservation if we’re late.”
Nervous energy fluttering in her chest, Becky kissed both girls goodbye. Often one or the other of them made a fuss when she tried to walk out of the day care center in the morning, but tonight they seemed more than ready to stay with Stephanie.
“Your sister is really good with kids,” she told Callum as she shut the door behind them. Tonight he wore dark slacks and a white button-down shirt that seemed to accentuate his tanned complexion. His hair skimmed the collar, and the top button of the shirt was open. Becky had the almost uncontrollable urge to kiss that soft spot at the base of his neck.
“She was excited to babysit,” he confirmed.
Becky scanned the street in front of her house. “Where’s your truck?”
He grinned. “I thought we could take something a little sportier tonight since we don’t have car seats to contend with.”
He pointed to a sleek, two-seater Audi parked at the curb.
“How did I not notice that car?” Becky stifled a giggle. “It’s so out of place in this neighborhood.” She tugged on the sleeve of the dress she’d chosen for the evening, a floral-patterned wrap dress that just skimmed her knees.
Although she’d had it for a few years, she hadn’t had the opportunity to wear it since before her pregnancy. Slipping into it tonight, she was shocked to discover that it fit her differently from how it used to. She thought she’d lost her pregnancy weight, but the dress clung to her breasts and hips more tightly than she remembered. “Is this too casual for where we’re going?”
“You look beautiful,” he said as he took her hand. “Your skin is like ivory satin.”
“Callum Fortune, are you a secret poet?” she asked with a grin.
“Just trying to live up to my reputation as a Renaissance man.” He opened the door of the Audi for her, and she slid into the passenger side, unable to resist running her palm across the car’s leather interior.
She’d never been in such a luxurious vehicle, and the reminder of how different their lives were had anxiety flitting through her like caffeine pumping in her veins.
“It’s just a car,” Callum said as he got in next to her. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
She barked out a laugh, then rolled her eyes at him. “Only a person who could afford a car like this would think that. You’re rich.”
He pulled away from the curb, shooting her a genuinely confused glance. “Is that a bad thing?”
“Would you believe I’ve never known any really rich people?” She scrunched up her nose. “Doctors around here make a good living, but not like your family.”
“The car was a stupid idea,” he muttered, and she instantly felt guilty.
“No. Of course not.” She shook her head. “The car is fun.” She placed a hand on his arm. “I just want you to understand that you don’t need to try to impress me with your money or your connections or anything material. I like you, Callum. Who you are as a person means more than anything else. Even if you drove some kind of a beater car and didn’t live in a huge mansion in a gated community, I’d want to spend time with you. I like you because of you.”
They’d stopped at a red light just before turning onto the highway that led out of town. Callum looked toward her with so much intensity in his gaze, heat flamed her cheeks. “You’re staring,” she told him softly.
“You calling me out as a rich boy might have been the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” He leaned over the console and quickly kissed her before the light turned green.
She laughed. “I meant it as a compliment. I know you work hard, and I’m not judging you for having money. But it isn’t why I like you.”
“I’m glad.”
She blew out a breath and settled back against the seat as he drove. She was glad he hadn’t been offended by what she’d told him. Saying the words out loud made her relax in a way she hadn’t expected. There wasn’t a true explanation for why the disparities in their backgrounds affected her. Becky had a feeling she was looking for any excuse as to why things couldn’t work out between them.
She was falling for Callum, which gave him the power to hurt her. She normally kept her emotions on lockdown for the sake of her girls. There were certain things she didn’t allow herself to feel—pity or regret for the life she’d lost when Rick died or bitterness at having to manage all the things on her own. Callum made her want to throw the shackles off her heart and claim a second chance at love.
Biting down on the inside of her cheek, Becky reminded herself that this couldn’t be love. She’d known the man for just a week. He was handsome and kind. End of story. At least for her.
“This is why Rambling Rose needs more dining options,” Callum said as the sun dipped below the horizon. “I don’t want to have to drive almost an hour to take my girl out on a date.”
His girl. Warmth bloomed inside her at the thought of being claimed by Callum. Could she trust what was happening between them? Was she even on the right page about it?
“A more upscale restaurant would be a nice addition to the community,” she agreed. “Probably some of the people who live out by you would like that better.”
He threw her a sidelong glance. “You make it sound as if we’re the Texas version of Downton Abbey.”
She groaned. “Do I sound like I have a chip on my shoulders? I don’t mean to. My parents always made it really clear that I should know my place, so I guess that advice stuck.”
“Know your place,” he murmured. “What does that mean exactly?”
“Not to reach for things above my station.”
“Seriously?”
“They meant it in a helpful way.” She shook her head. “I think. When I say it out loud, it sounds terrible. I’d never want my girls to believe they shouldn’t try for the moon. Whatever they want to accomplish, I’ll support them, even if they fail.”
“Everyone fails at something,” Callum said, and his voice held a note of regret she didn’t understand.
“What is your biggest failure?” she asked, curiosity and trepi
dation warring inside her.
His knuckles turned white as his fingers tightened on the steering wheel. He was silent so long Becky thought he might not answer. “Marriage,” he said finally.
Becky tried to hide her gasp. “You were married?”
“And divorced after a year,” he continued.
“What happened?” she blurted before thinking about it. Maybe he didn’t want to share that part of himself with her. They’d had two dinners and a handful of lunches together and he hadn’t mentioned having an ex-wife.
“I was a terrible husband.” He pulled into the parking lot of a fancy-looking restaurant housed in a historic mansion on the outskirts of Austin.
“Callum.”
He turned off the car, then faced her, regret shining in his eyes. “I shouldn’t have brought this up tonight, Becky. I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting to tell you but now isn’t the right time.”
She reached for his hand. “I’ve talked to you about far too many details of my life. I’m glad you shared that bit of yourself with me. If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand. But I want to hear about it. I want to know you.”
Lifting her hand to his mouth, he brushed a gentle kiss across her knuckles. “You really are amazing.”
“Hardly.” She laughed and dropped her gaze to her lap.
“Let’s get our table and have a drink.” He gave her a pleading look. “Then I promise I’ll tell you anything you want to know about my past.”
She tried not to let nerves settle over her as they entered the restaurant. It had a modern farmhouse vibe but still held true to the era of the house with rich textures and beautiful artwork. A stone fireplace dominated the far wall, and she wondered if she’d ever been in such a gorgeous establishment.
“What made you choose this place?” she asked as they approached the hostess’s stand.
He shrugged. “It’s been written up in several regional papers to rave reviews. Apparently, people come from all over to eat here. When I think about opening an upscale restaurant in Rambling Rose, I want to know what is already working in the area.”
The hostess took his name and led them to a cozy table near the fireplace.
“So it’s a date and a research trip?” Becky asked with a wink.
“Ninety-nine percent date,” he assured her.
The waiter, an older gentleman with a shock of white hair, brought each of them a menu and explained the evening’s specials, which included a scallop sashimi appetizer and Kobe beef tenderloin medallions with braised leeks for a main course. Becky was certain she’d never eaten anything as fancy as the dishes he described.
Callum ordered a bottle of wine, and she saw the waiter’s eyes widen a fraction. When he left, she leaned in over the table. “What’s so special about the wine you ordered?”
His thick brows drew together. “Nothing really. It’s simply a good vintage.”
“Does that translate as pricey?”
“Will you let me spoil you tonight?” he asked softly, reaching across the table to lace their fingers together. “Please?”
The please got her.
“If you insist. We’ll enjoy this evening and you can make me feel like a princess.” She leaned closer to him. “Although I’ll let you in on a little secret in case you haven’t picked up on it. I always feel special with you.”
His chest rose and fell as if her words made it difficult for him to catch his breath. She liked the idea of affecting him in that way. She didn’t want to be the only one caught up in the spell of whatever was happening between them.
Chapter Seven
Callum was grateful that the wine steward approached their table at that moment. He’d been half tempted to tug Becky right out of her seat and into his lap. Or better yet to skip dinner altogether and find a nearby hotel where he could spend the next several hours making her feel special from head to toe.
The sommelier held up the bottle for his inspection and, at Callum’s subtle nod, began to uncork it while praising the vintage and offering bland small talk about the wine industry. Callum was used to this routine in the restaurants he frequented, especially after ordering a five-hundred-dollar bottle. Of course, he wouldn’t share the price with Becky. Part of him worried she’d be too nervous to actually take a drink if she knew how much it cost.
He hadn’t been lying when he told her he wanted to treat her this evening. If he’d been more on the ball, he would have chartered a helicopter and flown them to Houston or Dallas for a true five-star meal. Next time—if she gave him a next time.
As he took the cork from the sommelier, Callum felt a light pressure on his leg. He went to take the requisite sniff and ended up almost shoving the cork up his own nose when he realized it was Becky playing an innocent game of footsy with him under the table. Every nerve ending tensed and it took a herculean amount of effort to keep his features neutral.
One corner of her mouth curved up into a mischievous smile, but she kept her gaze trained on the wine steward.
“Perhaps the lovely lady would like a taste,” Callum suggested as he handed the cork back to the man.
With an agreeable nod, the sommelier poured a finger of the deep burgundy liquid into a glass and gave it to Becky. She didn’t bother to swirl the glass, and Callum noticed the man’s mouth furrow into a disapproving scowl.
Instead, she took a dainty sip. “Tastes like red wine,” she reported after a moment.
There was an indignant mew of distress from the sommelier. “It’s not just ordinary wine,” he explained, and Callum could tell the man was doing his best not to sound horrified. “That is a perfectly balanced vintage that’s both bold and complex. It’s like a symphony in your mouth.”
“Which is a complicated way of saying ‘great red wine,’” Callum explained, earning a slightly wider smile from Becky. What would it take to coax a full-fledged grin from her?
He desperately wanted to know.
“It’s lovely,” she told the sommelier, taking pity on the wine expert’s obvious distress.
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it,” the man answered as he poured more wine into her glass. He filled Callum’s glass as well and then left the table. The waiter returned to take their dinner orders, and then they were blessedly alone. Or as alone as they could be in a quiet corner of the restaurant.
“You distracted me,” Callum accused playfully.
Becky held up her wineglass. “To distractions.”
“You can distract me anytime,” he told her as they clinked glasses, then frowned as he took a sip. “I’m missing something.”
“What’s that?”
“Your foot under the table.”
She giggled, then flashed the exuberant grin he’d been waiting for all night. “I should probably apologize, except I’m not sorry. That man was far too serious for his own good.”
“But you like the wine?”
“I understand very little about what makes it so special, but even I can tell that it is.”
Callum opened his mouth to reply, then shut it again. He felt the exact same way about Becky. Yes, she was beautiful. He’d dated beautiful women before. Women who were ambitious and accomplished. But he couldn’t remember ever having been so affected by any of them.
“Do you still want to know about my past?” he asked almost reluctantly.
“Of course.”
He gave a gruff nod and took another drink. As much as he didn’t want to speak about it, he knew they couldn’t go further unless she understood his shortcomings. He liked and respected Becky, and was crazy attracted to her, but none of those things changed who he was on the inside. What he could and couldn’t offer her. Best to have it all out now so she wouldn’t hope for more.
“Doralee and I met at a bar in Nashville. It was a fast courtship, and we married within a couple of months.”
“Like Rick and me,” she murmured.
He hadn’t realized the similarity in the time frame of their previous marriages. “I’m not sure I’d compare the two. I thought we were on the same page as far as the paths we wanted our lives to travel. Turns out we weren’t even reading from the same playbook.” He shook his head. “My business was starting to take off, and I had people coming to me about real estate deals in several smaller towns throughout Tennessee and the surrounding area. Steven and Dillon had joined me at that point, and I spent a lot of time working.”
“You’re dedicated.”
“I should have been more dedicated to my marriage,” he admitted, shifting in his seat. “She resented everything about Fortune Brothers Construction. In turn, I felt restricted, like she wanted to control me. The whole thing was a mess, and the entirety of it was my fault.”
Becky inclined her head as she studied him, her gaze gentle. If she argued with him or offered false platitudes to assuage his guilt, Callum might lose his mind. He couldn’t go back and fix the pain he’d caused his ex-wife, so the regret he carried with him like his own version of Sisyphus’s boulder was all he had.
“Do you ever speak to her?” Becky asked, one slender finger circling the rim of her glass.
The breath he hadn’t realized he was holding escaped his lips on a sudden hiss. “She called me this week, actually.” Something flashed in Becky’s dark eyes. He couldn’t name the emotion, but it warmed him just the same.
“Just to catch up?” she asked, a little too evenly.
“To tell me she’s engaged.” He drained the rest of his wine, then waived away the server who moved to refill his glass. “She’s been dating a guy since shortly after our divorce was finalized.”
“How does that make you feel?”
“Like more of a failure than I already did.”
“Callum, no.”
“I’m joking.” He gave what he hoped was a convincing laugh. “Sort of. I’m happy for her. She deserves a good man and a great life. I wish I could have been the one to give it to her. I’m sorry she had to go through our wreck of a marriage to find her happily-ever-after or whatever you want to call it.”
Fortune's Fresh Start Page 7
