by Ami Weaver
They worked in a fairly companionable silence. Callie was very careful not to touch him, until they both reached for a pan and his fingers slid over hers. She swallowed a little gasp and her eyes flew to his.
He was looking at her in that way. With desire, hunger, confusion. Longing. No doubt what was present in her own eyes, too, because she felt it all in her heart.
Awareness arced between them, hot and bright, almost a visible thing. She could barely breathe as they stood there for one heartbeat, then two, then three. Then she blinked and pulled her fingers out from under his, shaking as she turned away.
“Callie.” His voice was rough and sent a delicious shiver up her spine. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly, trying to get herself back under control. How did he affect her so quickly? With a slight touch, a look? He moved closer, but didn’t touch her. Her breath picked up and she couldn’t make herself move. Wasn’t sure her knees would hold her if she tried to step away.
She heard the rasp of his breathing, felt the warmth as it stirred her hair. She turned her head to him just as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple.
Then her upper jaw.
Then another, a little lower.
He didn’t touch her with his hands. She knew she could leave, if her feet would just let her. If she could release her death grip on the counter. Her heart pounded so hard she was afraid it would carry her away.
Instead, she turned her head and met his mouth with her own. His kiss was light, feathery, a question. Asking for permission without saying a word. She paused for just a moment, letting him play, then giving in because she couldn’t help it. Because she wanted it, too.
She opened to him, let him deepen the kiss, felt the reverberation of his low groan as he stroked her tongue with his. He still hadn’t touched her, and somehow, that made it hotter.
Then his hand came up and slid over her cheek, cupping her face. The touch was featherlight, soft, reverent, a direct contrast to the urgency of his mouth.
Callie gave in. All of her. She pressed against him, slid her arms around him and felt the pounding of his heart under her breasts. Heard his sharp intake of breath as he pulled away to angle his head to go deeper. She whimpered, not from fear but because, God, she’d missed this. This connection with another person. Intimacy, on all its levels.
“God, Callie,” he whispered against her mouth, before diving back in, and she held on to him because she fully understood what he meant, what he hadn’t said, what she couldn’t say.
When she finally drew away, he laid her head on his chest with his hand and she squeezed her eyes shut, listening to the thump of his heart, the unsteadiness of his breathing, both of which matched her own. She felt the press of his arousal against her, and her answering need. But she wasn’t ready to go there. Not yet. A week ago, even this much passion hadn’t been on her radar. Now—well, now she needed to figure out what was going on.
“Wow,” he said finally. “Callie. I know I said I wouldn’t, but—”
“I know.” She pulled away, now fairly certain of her ability to walk. “It’s okay, Matt. I—wanted it, too. I’m going to let you finish these, since we’re almost there, anyway. I’ll put them away later.”
She dropped her towel on the counter and walked away, feeling his eyes on her, but knew he wouldn’t follow her. This situation didn’t make him any happier than it did her. She knew that.
She stepped over the dog and shut the door to the bedroom. Flicked on the light and sank on her mattress, staring at the blank walls, the bare windows. Even with her bedside lamp—the overhead was too harsh—the room wasn’t cozy.
She rubbed her hands over her face. This was getting out of control. Her body still hummed from his kisses, from her reaction to them. From how badly she wanted. Wanted what? She didn’t want to want him. It wasn’t part of her life right now, wasn’t on her list of things to do. She’d been fully prepared to go this alone. But Matt had turned everything upside down. Or rather, her feelings for Matt had. It wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t forcing her to feel this way.
She just didn’t know what to do about it, how to get it all back under control. If, at this point, it was even possible. Every time he kissed her, they moved a little closer to the point of no return. She was fooling herself if she thought she could hold her heart in reserve. She knew she’d never just “mess around” with anyone—too much was at stake for her and her kids.
CHAPTER NINE
THE REST OF THE TREE had been long cleared, so the trucks parked in front of Callie’s house, with their ladders and toolboxes, were a welcome sight. It meant work was getting done. The boys were coming back tomorrow, and while they’d all have to pack into that rear bedroom at Matt’s house, Callie was okay with that. Matt had offered to clear his fitness equipment out of the third bedroom, but she had declined. They wouldn’t be here that much longer, and she wasn’t going to impose on him any more than she already had.
Plus the kids were a wonderful, living, breathing barrier between her and Matt. She needed that. Unfortunately. Since she wasn’t doing so great on her own. As the smoking-hot kiss yesterday had proved. A little shiver ran through her at the memory.
Matt was odd. He didn’t want her to be close, yet he’d drawn her right in. As if they were two magnets, unable to stay apart. It was unnerving. She didn’t know what had happened to him in Afghanistan, although it was obviously something traumatic. He wasn’t willing to talk about it. And she wouldn’t push.
She went to work, pleased that it was warm enough for her to leave her heavy coat at home. At Matt’s. Not home. As March moved to April, it was wonderful to need only a light jacket rather than the down parka she usually wore.
“A full one today,” Lori observed when Callie came into the salon. “Funny how it goes like that, isn’t it? Not that I’m complaining.”
Callie laughed. “Me, either.”
The day’s paper was folded on the counter and Callie picked it up to put it in the reception area. The front page article caught her eye: Afghan Army Vets Open Local Adventure Company.
Right under the headline was a photo of Matt, with his sexy smile and crinkles around his eyes. The other man was handsome, too, but Callie barely looked at him. Under that was a picture of Matt in his fatigues, crouched down, talking to a child. Her heart squeezed.
“Hmm. Hot,” Lori commented from behind her. “No wonder you were drooling. I’m thinking I could use more adventure in my life.”
Callie felt the blush crawl up her neck. “Lori.”
“Actually, check that. You could use more adventure in your life. Are they single? If so, why don’t you sign up for one?”
This time Callie gasped. “What? No way.”
“No way on the man or the adventure?”
“Both.” She hesitated, then pointed at Matt’s photo. “That’s the guy whose house I’m staying at.”
Lori’s eyes widened, then turned speculative. “Well, well, well. Callie Marshall. I guess I’ve been asking the wrong questions, haven’t I?”
“It’s nothing,” she assured her friend. Well, nothing other than a few kisses and this constant inner turmoil. “Just convenient, because he lives right across the street from me.”
Lori stared at her, and Callie could see all the pieces clicking into place. “This is him,” she said slowly. “The new neighbor with the dog. Jason’s friend.
“Jason’s old friend,” she admitted, feeling a wave of shame. Lori didn’t know the half of it.
Lori squealed and threw her arms around her. “That’s wonderful!”
“What? How?” Callie pulled back and stared at her, sure she’d lost her mind. There was nothing wonderful about this, even if Matt did make her feel—well, wonderful. Except for this awful guilt.
“There are no coincidences,” Lori said simply. “
You need each other. I’m sure of it.”
Callie dropped the paper on the table. Sad to say, she didn’t agree. “That’s a lovely thought, but I don’t think so. If nothing else, look. His life is all about risk-taking—it’s like he couldn’t get enough of it in the army. I can’t deal with that again after how I lost Jason. You of all people should know that.”
“I know you believe that. And I think you’re wrong.” When Callie drew back, shocked, Lori touched her hand. “Hear me out. Life is full of risk. Love is a risk. You can’t protect yourself—or your boys—from all life’s dangers forever. Maybe Matt’s not the right man for you, that’s fine. But you aren’t doing yourself or your kids any favors by staying away from him—or any other man—just because of his job or what he enjoys doing in his spare time, even. Think about it.”
Callie stared at her as she walked away. Lori was wrong. She could protect them, all of them, from further sorrow and loss. If she just held them tight enough, close enough, she could keep it all at bay.
Couldn’t she?
* * *
In the salon, two women were chatting. Callie was pretty preoccupied, but when they mentioned Out There Adventures, Matt’s company, her attention snapped back to them. One of the women had the paper in her lap while she waited for her color to set.
“So my son works there,” Callie’s client, Mrs. Hensen, said, inclining her head toward the paper. “He’s going to be a guide this summer. He can’t wait. He loves the outdoors and the kind of activities this company specializes in. It’s a perfect fit. Matt and Brice have done such a great job getting it ready to go.”
Callie wanted to ask her how she could let her child embark on such a dangerous job. Even if he was an adult, shouldn’t she be able to talk him out of it? Steer him to something safer? What would she do if something happened to him? Did he have a family that needed him? Not that Callie doubted Matt was making things as safe as possible. But something like that, extreme sports, had risks embedded in them. It was part of the draw, what made it so exciting. And a huge part of what scared her silly and made Matt so off-limits.
“I’ve heard that,” the second woman remarked. “Too bad I’m not thirty years younger.” Both women giggled like schoolgirls.
Callie dropped the scissors into the cleaning solution with a clatter. Both ladies looked at her and she smiled in apology. This was probably not the time to say she was living with Matt. Even temporarily.
They resumed their conversation and Callie wiped off her station. Time to finish Mrs. Hensen, who was still talking to her friend. “I’ve told my daughter maybe she should sign up for a tour. Brice is married, but Matt’s not. Looks to me like Matt Bowden might be just the thing to take her mind off her stupid cheating ex.”
Both women laughed again. Callie kept her face neutral and her hands steady as she removed Mrs. Hensen’s rollers. Matt wasn’t a toy, something to be used and tossed aside. Or an object to be lusted after. Though, well, to be perfectly honest, Callie wasn’t doing so well on that last point herself!
She stifled a sigh. Her outrage was misplaced, and qualified as overreacting. Matt was an adult. And frankly, if it brought business in, he might very well welcome women on the prowl. She didn’t know him well enough to say.
And she certainly did not care.
Though she seemed to need the reminder. Especially when the memory of his mouth on hers surfaced all too frequently and made her feel dizzy.
She got Mrs. Hensen all fixed up and out the door with a smile on her face. Good. She’d be a return customer. Whether Callie opted to open her own place or not, it was good to build her client list, both for her sake and Lori’s. The conversation she’d overheard bugged her a little bit, though, even after the women had left.
“Hmm,” Lori commented as she swept up the last of the hair from her own client. “Why didn’t you tell them he lives by you? Or that you know him?”
Callie laughed. “I don’t want to be responsible for the parade of women to his door. And the extra traffic on our street...” She shook her head in mock outrage.
Lori leaned on her broom, her eyes sparkling. “Or maybe you don’t want the competition?”
Callie gaped at her friend. “Lori! How can you—what a thing to say.”
Lori patted her shoulder. “I was kidding, my dear. But your reaction is very interesting.” She cocked her head to the side, and now there was a teasing, knowing glint in her eyes. “Don’t you think?”
“Not really,” Callie murmured. Darn it. Lori was right. She’d been a bit too vehement. Not because she thought there’d be competition—that implied there was something there to compete for, and there wasn’t. But where had that sour feeling in her stomach come from? The thought of Mrs. Hensen’s daughter trying to hook up with Matt? Crazy.
Callie would have to watch herself very carefully now. She turned to drop her wet towels in the bin. And what was up with people pushing her toward Matt? All of a sudden, it seemed everyone had picked up on the chemistry between them, without even seeing them together! Maybe she was giving off some kind of fix-me-up vibe and didn’t know it?
She’d tried so hard to stay neutral on the subject of Matt. But it was exhausting. Her feelings toward him weren’t neutral. There was no denying that. She wasn’t sure what they were, exactly, and maybe didn’t even want to know. There was a definite physical connection, but it was more than just that. More than a shared connection to the past.
But she did know it scared her.
* * *
When she got home that evening, she had a new front window. She pulled into Matt’s driveway and ran across the street to see it, happiness and relief filling her.
“Yay,” she murmured. Measurable progress. This was a big step toward moving back in. Toward getting back to normal. Though, as she heard Matt’s car pull in behind her, she had to admit normal had been turned on its ear lately.
“Look at that. Bill works fast,” Matt observed as he came up behind her.
“Yes, he does. Thank God.” Then as it hit her how her words might sound, she half turned to Matt. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it quite like that.”
He slanted her an amused look. “I know.”
“I’m very grateful to you for everything, but I’m looking forward to being back home.” Which doesn’t smell like you. Where I don’t run into you early in the morning. Where I’m safe from all these unwanted feelings.
“I know that, too,” he agreed, and to her relief, he didn’t pursue it any further. “Did Bill say when they could start on the roof?”
Here was the rub. “Next week.” It was four days before he could get to it. Callie hadn’t pushed, because she knew he was busy, and they all thought she was in such a good place at Matt’s house. Which, technically, she was. And she couldn’t really say anything to make them think differently.
If they only knew about those fantastic kisses, however, things would change.
“So we’ll be around a few more days, I’m afraid,” she said, not looking at Matt, afraid he’d read her thoughts on her face.
“I have no problem with that,” he assured her. “Neither does Aldo.”
To be fair, he’d gotten used to having her around. He’d been on his own for so long, having another person—actually, multiple people, including kids—in his space had been unnerving at first, but now he liked it.
Callie kept to herself, taking all her shower stuff back with her into her room—trying to make herself as small as possible, he thought. But there’d been one day when he’d gotten in there and seen her shampoo next to his. It’d been a silly thing, but it had somehow pleased him. He’d even opened the bottle and taken a sniff, and the now-familiar scent of vanilla had hit him hard. It made him think of kissing her the other day, how if he was close enough he could get a whiff of her hair right now.
&nbs
p; It was almost enough to push him toward madness.
But that had been the only time she’d done that. Just as well.
Now, she gave him a little smile, her shields firmly in place. Stay away, her body language practically screamed. He honored that by keeping a little bit of distance between them. “That’s good. Maybe you’ll have to buy Aldo an air mattress of his own after all this.”
He laughed as they turned to walk back over to his house. The mutt would love that. “Yeah, maybe.”
The smell of food caught him off guard when he unlocked the door and stepped aside for her to go first. “Smells great. Were you cooking?”
She shook her head. “Sort of. I started something in the slow cooker this morning. It’s nice to come home to dinner already done.” She shot him a look as she toed off her shoes. “Maybe you need one. Drop something in, turn it on, done for when you get home from work.”
“Maybe,” he said, thinking it was probably still too much for just one guy. And then, as he watched her pad across the floor, stopping to rub a very happy Aldo on the head, then continuing to the kitchen to lift the top and check what was in the pot, a little truth bubbled up. Matt really liked having her here. It wasn’t just that he’d adjusted to it, tolerated it. He liked how she looked in his space—not out of place, but as if she belonged. Not to mention he missed those boys of hers when they weren’t around.
Aldo nudged Matt’s hand and whimpered, reminding him that he needed to go out. Callie turned around and caught him staring at her. The heat stirred between them, the physical pull almost a visible thing. He didn’t move toward her, though it took far more effort than it should have not to. She looked away, and even from here he could see the agitated rise and fall of her chest. She cleared her throat.
“Looks like he’s ready for a break,” she observed, with a smile for the dog, and something in Matt slipped, shifted. Something he hadn’t known was there. It was gone just as fast, but he still felt odd. As if something completely out of his control had just changed.
