“The name is Callie?”
She must be back. “Yeah, I’ll take it. What do I owe you?”
Trevor pulled out his wallet out and paid the teenager. He took the bag of food out the back door and through the yard. He knocked on Callie’s door and waited.
“Coming. Give me a minute.”
He heard scrambling inside a moment before the door swung open. She answered with her eyes down while digging in her purse.
She stood just inside the door, her honey-blonde hair dripping on a silky robe. The tanned skin of her legs caught his eye, but he forced his gaze up.
“Man, you guys made great time. I wasn’t expecting you…” She trailed off as she realized it was Trevor.
“Your dinner came to the front door. I almost kept it, but I figured that would be another dick move.”
“Another?” she asked with a raised brow.
“I’ve been trying to reach you all week to apologize. I didn’t know if you were avoiding me or what.”
“I left for a job. But I would’ve avoided you.”
He held out the bag of food. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.”
She studied him for a minute, then nodded. “Are the kids here?”
“They’re at home.” He paused and then added, “My house.”
“You want to join me?”
“I can’t take your dinner.”
She took the bag from him and opened it. “There’s plenty. I always overbuy my first night back in town. I think I’m hungrier than I am because I’ve missed good Chicago food.”
The smell of hot dogs and fries wafted out. “You sure?”
“Come on.” She angled her head and walked away from the door. She set the bag on the kitchen counter.
As she moved through the small house, the short robe drew his attention again. Correction—her legs caught his focus. The entire length of them was completely visible, and if she bent at the waist, he was sure he’d find out whether she had anything on underneath. His dick twitched in response to where his thoughts were headed. His mouth dried, and he swallowed hard.
“I’ll be right back. Go ahead and take the food out.”
He watched her disappear around the corner and shook his head. He should not be noticing Callie’s legs or anything else for that matter. She was Lisa’s best friend. What the hell was wrong with him?
The stress must’ve been getting to him. It’d been a while since he’d been with a woman, and without a doubt, Callie was attractive. And showing a lot of tanned skin. He bit down hard. Then he turned toward the sink to wash up before eating. He needed to clear his head.
Callie came back in, and he was almost afraid to turn around. She grabbed the bag from the counter next to his arm and he caught a whiff of some fruity shampoo or something. She’d changed into a T-shirt and long shorts and looked totally comfortable. A sick part of him regretted that she’d covered up. He wanted to smack himself upside the head for his thoughts.
“Better hurry or I’ll eat all the onion rings.”
He slowly dried his hands before turning to follow her. He took a couple cans of pop from the fridge. She sat on the floor in front of her couch, food spread out on a trunk used as a coffee table. Trevor lowered himself to the floor. As soon as his ass made contact, he had the thought that he might not be able to get up again.
She set a hot dog in front of him.
“What hot dog stand delivers?”
“A lot of them use a delivery service. One of the perks of living in a big city.”
“I had no idea.” He unwrapped the dog, but before he lifted it for a bite, he said, “I really am sorry for what I said to you.”
She lifted a shoulder but didn’t look at him. “You weren’t wrong. They’re not my kids.”
Hearing her say it didn’t sound any better. “That was pointing out the obvious just to be a dick. I’m sorry.” He took a bite of the hot dog, and his mouth watered. He was hungrier than he thought.
They ate in silence for a few minutes. When he balled up the wax paper, he added, “I was caught off guard when Evan said he didn’t want to go to college. I didn’t know what to say.”
Callie wiped her lips with a napkin. “He and Lisa fought about it. I’m surprised he never mentioned it to you. He was sure you’d be on his side.”
“Why the hell would he think that?”
“Because you didn’t need college to be successful.”
“I don’t want him to have to bust his ass every day like I do.”
“So maybe let him see what it’s like.”
“Huh?”
“It’s almost summer. Put him to work with you. He’ll either discover that he loves working with his hands, or he’ll rethink college.” She picked up a fry, dragged it through ketchup, and popped it in her mouth.
“What if it doesn’t work?”
“Then he’ll have to figure it out. He has a point. College isn’t for everyone. That has nothing to do with my relationship with my parents, who, for the record, did want me to go to college. While I did, it was on my terms.” She drank from the can of pop.
Trevor’s throat was dry, so he did the same. “Everything I said was out of line, I get it.”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “I’m just giving you a hard time.”
“I’m out of my depth with them, and you made an easy target.” He sighed.
“You need to figure out how to deal with them, Trevor. Lisa’s gone. She doesn’t get a voice anymore. As sucky as it is, it’s all you.”
He released a heavy breath. He didn’t need the reminder.
“What are you doing here without the kids anyway?”
“Repairing the house.”
“Have you decided to sell?”
He shook his head. “Hannah still wants to stay.”
“It’s your call.”
“They’ve lost enough, haven’t they? If staying here will bring them some comfort, I can suck it up.”
Leaning close with a smile, she said, “I’m not that bad to have as a neighbor. I try to keep the wild parties to Saturday nights.”
“It’s not you. I look at that house and all I see is the place where she moved on without me. Like, she probably had men in that bedroom.”
“Oh my God. Are you still hung up on her?”
“No. I just…” He didn’t know how to explain it. “We were over. But we still had a history. I don’t want to think about her screwing some other guy.”
He tried to ignore the voice in his head that wondered why Callie would care if he were still hung up on Lisa. Her tone sounded almost jealous, and he knew that made no sense.
Callie sat and stared at him, as if she was searching for the truth. Then she nodded. “If it’ll make you feel any better, I don’t think she ever brought any guy home.” She sipped her pop. “Don’t get me wrong. She dated and definitely moved on, but she didn’t do it here.”
A whole bag of mixed emotions smacked him. He’d known Lisa had begun dating over the last few years, but he didn’t need Callie to remind him of it. At the same time, he was glad that it hadn’t happened here. He finished his drink and stood. “I’m gonna get back to work. Thanks for dinner.”
“What are you thanking me for? You paid for it.”
He smiled. Forging this new friendship with Callie felt good. He liked having her in his corner. He looked around the room. “Do you need any work done here?”
“Like what?” She stood now, too, and followed his gaze.
“Anything broken?”
She shook her head. “I don’t need much. There are times when I’m working and I’m lucky to have a real bathroom. Living here is pretty much a luxury.”
He huffed. The house was small and cute, but far from luxurious. “Well, let me know if anything needs to be replaced. Lisa didn’t keep up on any of the maintenance.”
“Will do.” She gathered their trash and headed to the kitchen. “What are you going to do about Evan?”
“I think you’re right about him getting a job. Whether it’s with me or somewhere else, he might need a taste of the real world.”
He walked past Callie. With his hand on the doorknob, he added, “Thanks for your help with them. I’ll try to do a better job listening.”
“Thanks.”
“Next time, maybe don’t be so quick to run away.”
“I didn’t run away.”
“Sure you did, Callie. It’s what you do. That’s not a dig, just reality.” He opened the door. “Have a good night.”
…
Callie heard banging and hammering and drilling coming from Lisa’s house again. It was the third time this week. Trevor was killing himself over there every night after working all day. She hadn’t seen the kids at all. None of it could be considered healthy.
This coming from the queen of unhealthy parent-child relationships. She walked across the yard and looked up at the house. Windows were open, which would explain why she’d heard his noise. Lights blazed in almost every room.
What the hell was he doing? He’d originally made it sound like he was going to slap some paint on the walls and patch some holes. Nothing should be this noisy.
Although she had her key, she pounded on the back door to get his attention. She waited and a minute later, the door swung open. Trevor stood in the kitchen in a sweat-soaked T-shirt and dusty jeans.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Working on the house. I thought it would be good for the kids to be back here before school let out. To be in their rooms to study and stuff.” He stepped back, so she followed him in.
He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and twisted off the cap. Then he drank it all in long gulps. Callie watched his throat work. It reminded her of an old Diet Coke commercial where a bunch of women in an office gathered around to watch the construction worker on break.
I am so bad.
After tossing the bottle in the recycling bin, he asked, “Is there a problem?”
“You tell me. You’ve been here every night after work. Have you even seen the kids?”
“I see them every morning before school. I see them when I go home.” His blue eyes darkened to a stormy color as he looked at her. “What are you getting at?”
“It looks like you’re avoiding them.”
“I’m working to make everything better for them, not avoiding them. I can’t be everywhere at once. If I’m not here, this doesn’t get done.”
“Maybe they could help. Or at least come here for dinner. Something.” She knew she was treading dangerously close to none-of-her-business territory, but she couldn’t ignore it.
Trevor turned and walked away. What the hell? She stomped after him into the living room and then into the bathroom in the hall. The entire room had been demolished.
“I thought you said you had some simple repair work to do. Paint and trim.”
“That was before I discovered a leak in the wall. With mold growing behind it. Since I had to tear out the drywall, I figured I might as well just replace everything and update it. All of the pipes were bad. In this bathroom and the one upstairs.” He turned to look at her. “I don’t want them living in this. And I don’t want them here when I’m cursing at their mother for having problems like this and being too stubborn to call me to ask for help.”
“I didn’t know.”
“You’re quick to assume I’m shirking my fatherly duties. I check in on them after school. Once I get the worst of this done, the rest will go faster.”
A stab of guilt hit her. She had assumed the worst of him, and it wasn’t fair. She’d told him she’d be here to help, to support him and the kids. She’d yet to do anything but offer unwanted advice. “Tell me how I can help.”
He looked her up and down, from the spaghetti-strap tank top down to her canvas sneakers. She felt his gaze along every inch. Then he snorted.
“What?”
“You’re not exactly dressed for construction work.”
“I think I’ll be fine. It’s not like I’m going to be running a jackhammer. I can carry things to the garbage. I can help hold…things.” She pointed ineffectively at the tools and materials lying around.
“I’m fine, Callie. Go home.”
She planted her fists on her hips. “No. I told you that I’d be here for you and the kids. Let me help.”
He sighed and rubbed a hand across his jaw. The rasp of the stubble sounded through the small room. “Fine. You’re gonna get dirty.”
“Dirt doesn’t scare me. Bring it on.”
He stepped closer and reached around her. Heat radiated from his body, and the smell of a construction site seemed to be his signature scent. His arm brushed hers as he slid back and handed her a pair of gloves and goggles.
“What are these for?”
“Safety first.” Then he walked around her and out the door. “Coming?” he called without turning back.
She scurried after him. “Where are we going?”
He was already up the steps when she asked. At the top of the stairs, her jaw dropped. There was a stack of broken drywall sitting in piles from the bathroom all the way out to the hall.
Trevor pointed at the pile. “That needs to go out.” Then he crossed his arms as if he expected her to balk at a little manual labor.
“I didn’t see a dumpster. Where am I putting it? The regular garbage can can’t hold all this.”
“There are construction debris bags sitting beside your place. Fill them as much as you can and I’ll drag them to the alley.” He moved toward the stairs again.
“Where are you going?”
“Back down to the other bathroom to start drywalling.”
“I thought you said it needed new pipes.”
“Done.”
“Already? You’ve only been at this a few days.”
“I’m good like that.”
Their eyes locked, and something zipped between them that felt a little too much like flirting. Her heart thumped, and she blinked rapidly. “Well,” she said to break whatever trance had sucked them in, “I’ll get to work.”
“Yell if you need anything.” He turned and headed down the stairs.
Maybe the whole trance thing was on her. Her loneliness combined with friendly teasing allowed her brain to play with her. Of course Trevor wouldn’t flirt with her. He’d been married to her best friend.
She tugged on the gloves. They were about three sizes too big. Who the hell had a hand that big?
Her libido answered, I bet Trevor does, and I know what that means.
Giving herself a mental slap and making a note to get back on Tinder, she turned to look at the pile of drywall. With a grunt, she hefted the first piece and carried it downstairs. Just like Trevor said, there were two giant bags sitting on the lawn with drywall already in them. She added her piece to the pile and went back for more.
On her second trip, the back door and screen were wide open. As she neared the door, Trevor came through holding two full sheets of new drywall against his shoulder. She shifted to the side, putting her back to the wall to make sure he had enough room to pass. He smiled as he did.
She glanced down at her small piece of broken drywall. Then back to his bulging biceps as he turned the corner to get into the bathroom. He thought she was cute. Well, so what if she couldn’t balance building materials? She had other skills. She tossed her piece on the pile and returned to the bathroom.
Below her, she heard the sound of a drill. And music. Nothing she knew, but at least it was more pleasant than silence. Every now and then, she and Trevor would pass while working—her getting rid of the old, him bringing in the new. It was quite metaphorical. If her muscles weren’t screaming at her, she might think about grabbing her camera and taking a few shots.
By the time she had all of the big pieces hauled out, she was dying of thirst. A beer sounded great. She rarely drank beer, but she felt it was appropriate since she was doing construction work. She h
opped down the last step and neared the bathroom before she realized that she’d almost approached Trevor and asked him if he wanted to grab a beer with her.
What the hell is wrong with me? The man was an alcoholic.
She sighed and went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. Taking one for Trevor, she went back to the bathroom. His deep voice carried over the sound of the drill. Was he singing?
Silently edging closer, she peeked around the corner of the door. Trevor’s phone sat on the toilet tank playing some twangy country song about a guy whose girl broke up with him and he was moving on. It was kind of pop-y and cute and absolutely nothing she ever would’ve imagined Trevor singing.
When they’d been young and he’d been in a band, this song was the opposite of what they’d played. He’d been all edgy and hard rock. Too bad he tried to live that lifestyle, too. But it had been more than the band and the bars. Lisa thought if he gave that up, he’d be sober. It had taken losing her and his family for him to see that his life had spiraled out of control.
When he bent to get some more screws, she knocked on the doorframe to distract herself from checking out his ass. He started and looked over his shoulder at her.
She smiled and waved the water bottle at him. “Thought you might be thirsty.”
He straightened and took it. “Thanks.”
As he twisted off the cap, she said, “Cute song you were singing.”
He raised an eyebrow at her and started glugging the water down like he had in the kitchen. To occupy herself, she opened her bottle and drank. It was time to update her dating profiles. She hadn’t dated a blue-collar guy since her early twenties. She’d forgotten how hot they were.
Me: globe-trotting photographer.
You: blue-collar guy good with his hands.
Trevor snapped his fingers in front of her face. She blinked and looked up at him.
“Where’d you go?” he asked. “You looked like you were about to—” Rather than finishing, he stepped away and took another swig of water.
“What did I look like?” Somehow she felt like she was poking a bear but couldn’t help herself.
“You really want to know?”
My Best Friend's Ex (Daring Divorcees) Page 6
