An area in the corner was raised slightly. He’d put the dining room table there. It, too, was glass and chrome. He’d used pale linens, bought fresh flowers for the table and had set a high-end chardonnay on ice. He’d done his best to impress at every turn yet couldn’t shake the feeling he’d somehow done it all wrong.
“You hate it,” he said as Callie crossed to the window to study the view.
“What? No. I’m overwhelmed. Your place is beautiful. Very modern with clean lines. The view is incredible.” She smiled. “Did you order the sunset just for me?”
“I did.”
“Must be nice to have that much power. I’m not sure I could handle the responsibility.”
He chuckled. “You get used to it.”
He crossed to her and stood behind her, his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him.
They touched from chest to thigh, but it was the middle part that got his attention. Her ass nestled right up against his dick and he liked it. A lot.
No, he told himself firmly. No way. He was not going there with Callie—not for a while yet. He wanted them to get to know each other better. He wanted things solid and for their time together to be special. Sex was easy—it was relationships that were a bitch.
“How long have you lived here?” she asked.
“A couple of years.”
“You bought the houses for your mom and your brother and his family first, didn’t you?”
“Why would you ask that?”
She turned in his arms and smiled up at him. “Because you have a hero complex. Not in a bad way, I don’t think. More that you have to take care of everyone around you. So family first.”
He thought she might be complimenting him, but he wasn’t sure. A lot of women he’d dated had complained about how much he was there for his family.
“Two houses on an oversize lot don’t come on the market very often. When I saw those, it made sense to buy them first.”
She put her hands on his chest. Heat burned down to his groin. He had to use all of his considerable willpower to keep himself from reacting physically to her touch.
“Uh-huh.” She raised herself on tiptoe and lightly kissed his mouth. “You’re a softy.”
“I’m not sure I like that. Can’t I have a superhero name?”
“King Softy? Super Softy?”
He winced. “We’re moving in the wrong direction.” As his control snapped and blood rushed to his groin, he took a step back so she wouldn’t feel his sudden erection. He needed distance and a distraction.
“I have appetizers. Let’s get them in the oven.”
“Let’s.”
They went into the kitchen. Callie prowled around, checking out the various stainless steel appliances and reading labels in his small wine cellar.
“It’s like something out of a magazine,” she said as she slid onto one of the stools at the island. “I didn’t know people really lived like this.” She smiled at him. “I say that very aware of the irony. I mean, look where I live.”
“It’s a family home.”
“It’s the size of an airplane hangar. Still, there’s a warmth there. And the yard is huge.”
“It would be a great place to raise kids.”
Her eyes widened. “I never thought of that, but sure.”
He slid the cookie sheet into the oven and set the timer, then collected ingredients for martinis.
“Vodka okay?” he asked.
“Um, sure.”
There was something in her tone that alerted him to a problem. “You don’t like martinis? I can make something else. What would make you happy?”
She flushed as her gaze slipped from his. She seemed to collect herself after a second. Her shoulders squared and her chin went up.
“I’ve never had a martini,” she admitted. “I don’t know if I like them or not.”
He swore silently. He was an ass. Of course she hadn’t—when would she have had the chance? She’d gone to prison when she’d been eighteen and got out three years ago. Since then she’d been scrambling to keep her head above water. There hadn’t been extra money for things like martinis.
He walked around the island, spun the stool until she was facing him, then cupped her face in his hands and kissed her. He moved deliberately, brushing her mouth with his before running his tongue along her bottom lip. She parted insistently, inviting him to the party. Her hands settled on his waist.
He gave himself a full twenty seconds to enjoy the lushness of her mouth before carefully, deliberately releasing her. His dick throbbed like a son of a bitch. Relief would have to wait, he told himself. Until he was alone.
“Your past made you what you are today,” he told her. “I’m more and more impressed every time I’m with you. I do forget that there must be a lot of things that are new to you. I hope you know I’m not put off by that. In fact, I want to share as much as I can with you.”
Her eyes got big and her mouth trembled slightly. “Will it be shaken or stirred?” she asked.
He grinned and walked around to continue making the drinks. “True aficionados will tell you shaking the martini bruises it and it is always preferable to stir the liquor in the ice.”
“And you?”
“No pain, no gain.”
She laughed, then leaned forward to watch what he did.
“How are the driving lessons going?” he asked.
“Really well. I’m getting more confident. I’ll be taking my test soon. I just need a few more hours of practice.”
“I’d be happy to take you out.”
“Yeah, that’s not happening. I know what you drive. Your Escalade is the size of a building and the little convertible costs as much as a building. I’m okay with my small, sensible training car.”
“You seem a little obsessed with buildings.”
“Maybe it’s because of the one I’m in.”
He finished shaking the drinks and filled two glasses, then handed her one. “Tell me what you think.”
She took a sip. “Oh, it’s not what I thought. It’s really clean and a lot of liquor.”
“We’ll just have one.”
“I like it.” She raised her glass. “This is good practice for when we go to the gala. I don’t want to be obviously out of place.”
“Why would you be?”
“I’m a small-town girl from Oklahoma. Events like these aren’t part of my regular routine.”
He was pleased she’d talked about herself in that way rather than defining herself by her incarceration. She was so much more than the mistake she’d made.
“Now if it were a potluck on the line at work, I’d be one of the gang,” she said with a smile.
“Still liking your job?”
“Yes.” She hesitated. “I’ve made my decision.”
“About?”
“Going to college. Malcolm’s helping me with the application. I hope I get into the University of Washington. It’s a great school.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes. “I could wear a Huskies jersey for you sometime.”
He didn’t think she was trying to be provocative, but her teasing words hit him hard, all the same. A jersey and nothing else, he thought, trying to keep his breathing even.
“I’ll stay where I am at the company until I start school, but if I get in, I’m going to go full-time.”
“Smart and beautiful. How’d I get so lucky?”
“I think you always get lucky. This is not a unique experience, but thank you for the compliment.”
They went into the living room. He set their glasses on the coffee table, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. She snuggled into him, cuddling close before raising her mouth to his.
Just five minutes, he told himself. He could stand it for five minutes and then he was going to
stop.
Everything went according to plan right up until Callie unexpectedly shifted so she was straddling him. The heat from her center enveloped his erection, making it tough to breathe. Or not start ripping off clothing. Or bury himself so deep he would never find his way back.
“What’s with the kissing?” she asked.
“What do you mean? Don’t you like it?”
“I like it fine. I like it a lot. But that’s all we do.” Her gaze was pointed. “Kiss. There’s plenty more we could be doing. You seem to like me and find me attractive, so what’s the problem?”
She was so damned direct—how was he supposed to resist her? Still, he had to. Their future depended on it.
He carefully moved her onto the sofa, then stood and put some distance between them. He’d thought they might have to have this conversation but he’d never imagined she would be the one insisting they talk about it.
He cleared his throat. “There have been a lot of women in my past,” he began.
“Yes, I know. You keep rubbing that in.”
“I’m not rubbing it in. I’m trying to be honest.”
“I honestly wish you’d stop talking and have your way with me.” She stood and put her hands on her hips. “What? What? Is there a medical condition? Do you secretly play for the other team? What is it?”
“I want it to be special.”
She snorted. “What does that mean? Are we waiting for an eclipse?”
“No, although that would be really cool.” He tried to figure out how to articulate what he was feeling. “You’re the princess,” he finally admitted. “You need to be won.”
She muttered something that sounded a lot like, “What I need is to get laid.” She glared at him. “A princess? Are you serious?”
“Totally.”
“And you want to win me?”
“Yes.” He held his hands out, palms up. “Callie, there have been a lot of—”
Her gaze narrowed.
“I mean, I’ve had plenty of short-term relationships in my time. This is different. You’re different. I want to do the right thing.” He lowered his voice. “You have no idea how much I want you, but not before we know each other better. When it’s right. When I’ve won you.”
“For real?”
“I swear on my mother’s beating heart.”
“That’s a serious swear.”
“I’m a serious guy. You okay?”
She nodded.
“Are we okay?”
Instead of answering, she walked toward him. He pulled her close and held on. He was going to make this work, he promised himself. He had to—she was the one.
chapter twenty-six
Callie told herself she had to stop smiling. She’d been grinning like a fool since she woke up that morning and probably looked ridiculous. Only it was difficult not to be happy after her evening with Santiago.
The man was incredible. Yes, he was smart and kind and honorable and all that was really important. In fact, a case could be made that those were much more important qualities than the one she was focused on. Only all she could think was he thought she was special.
Her! Special! Who knew that was possible? The waiting-to-have-sex thing was a bit frustrating but the reason was so incredibly sweet and lovely and how was she supposed to ever resist him?
Not that she was going to, she thought, smiling again. Just his kisses were driving her crazy. In a way, he was an unexpected miracle. Not only had she been given a chance at a new life, she’d met a wonderful man who thought she was practically a princess.
She turned her attention back to her work and carefully sealed the small plastic bag filled with a proprietary blend of spices until the light turned green. She tossed it into the bin with the 47 million she’d already made that morning. Okay, maybe not that many, but a lot. The dry goods department was nowhere near as interesting as the basket group. Automation had yet to hit the section, so giant vats were filled with spices measured out by hand. Once everything was mixed together, the results were measured into bins with built-in pour spouts. From there the mixture went into big funnels that released a predetermined amount into tiny plastic bags. The bags were sealed by hand to be put into soup mixes later.
From what Callie had learned, the entire division was due for an overhaul in a few months. Everyone was excited about the changes. Despite the upcoming automation, no jobs would be lost. Employees would be sent to other departments to fill in there.
Callie reached for a bag only to realize she’d run out. She slid off her stool and headed for the storage area where both supplies and finished product were kept. As she opened the huge doors, she hesitated. She still wasn’t sure how to find her way through the maze of stacked boxes, bins and crates.
She looked at the numbering system on the shelving units, then up at the map on the wall.
“Row E, section five,” she said to herself. “Row E, section five.”
She found the correct row, but couldn’t find anything close to supplies. Had she read the map wrong? She looked over the boxes, then shook her head. They were all filled with dried soup and pasta kits. She stepped back and realized that information was written on the side of the boxes, along with the codes that said when they’d been manufactured.
She started to turn away, then looked back to study the coding. It didn’t make sense. She translated the numbers in her head twice more and came up with the same piece of information. Two entire days of work were gone. Last Monday and Tuesday were right where they should be, with the Friday boxes pushed up against them. But there were none from Wednesday and Thursday.
She walked up and down the rows, wondering if the boxes had been put in the wrong place. They had to have been. But when she checked the handwritten logs at the end of each aisle, the boxes on the forms matched the boxes on the rows.
Malcolm had talked about someone stealing from the company, right in this department, and she had a bad feeling she’d just found proof.
She walked back to the map, realized she needed to be two rows over, then found her supplies. But instead of returning to her station, she went in search of her supervisor.
He wasn’t around, but she spotted Paulo and headed toward him. He smiled when he saw her.
“Hey, Callie. How’s it going?”
“I can’t find Brandon. Do you know where he is?”
“He had a doctor’s appointment. You look worried. Can I help?”
“I hope so. I hope I’m wrong and if I am, I’m sorry I bothered you.” She took a breath. “I think there’s missing inventory.” She explained about the two days she couldn’t find.
Paulo watched her intently, then groaned. “We’ve been having a lot of problems with theft lately. I thought we’d put in enough inventory checks, but obviously not. Thanks for letting me know. I’ll go double-check, then report it up the chain of command. Once we have our remodel, everything will be on computer. Then this won’t be able to happen.”
“Sorry to add to your workload.”
He grinned. “It’s why they pay me the big bucks.”
She headed back to her workstation and began filling small bags with spice blend. Doing the right thing felt good. That was a lesson she would carry with her always. The consequences for anything else weren’t worth it.
* * *
The hotel ballroom looked like something out of a movie, Callie thought as she and Santiago walked around the displays for the silent auction. Twinkling lights, beautifully dressed people, with both laughter and music as delightful background noise.
She’d spent the afternoon getting ready. Keira had insisted they go to Nordstrom for makeup, so Callie had dutifully braved the Clinique counter to get advice on what she should buy. She’d stayed for a lesson, then had duplicated the effort as she’d gotten ready. She’d left her hair in hot rollers for n
early an hour and then had sprayed the resulting curls with half a can of hairspray. With luck they would last several hours.
In her fancy dress and wearing a strapless bra with the power to support far more than she had, she felt confident and pretty and almost tall. Having Santiago give her surreptitious looks of approval only added to the specialness of the night.
Once they’d arrived, they’d swung by one of the bars in the room to get a drink. Now they surveyed the grouping of tables with cute signs above them. Each section of tables had a charming name like Whiffen Walk.
“Here’s how the night goes down,” Santiago said, putting his free hand on her waist. “We start with the cocktail hour and the silent auction. I have an app on my phone and we bid on anything we want. Items are usually grouped together. Wine packages, experiences, dining out, travel. There are more special items in what’s called a Super Silent.”
He winked at her. “Sports tickets, artwork. We could get you a picture of dogs playing poker.”
“Could we, because that would be the best.” She looked around at all the tables. “There’s a lot here. We’ll never get through it all.” Not that she would be bidding on anything. “I thought there would be a live auction. I’ve never seen one.”
“Oh, there is. It’s during dinner. Those items are the really exclusive. Dinner for twelve on a private yacht or a week in Bali. That kind of thing.”
Callie wasn’t sure she could put together a dinner for twelve. Did she even know that many people? But even as she thought the question, she realized she did—at least these days. Back in Houston she’d been on her own but since moving to Seattle, everything had changed. She had family and friends and, well, a really hunky boyfriend.
He drew her close. “Come on. Let’s go spend money for charity.”
Callie had no idea what to expect from the silent auction. They spent a few minutes in the wine section. Santiago bid on a couple of cases, then handed her his phone.
“You do the next one.” He showed her how the app worked. “You put in the amount of your bid here and the maximum you’re willing to bid. The app will automatically increase your bid every time someone else bids on your item. You’ll get a notification when that happens and if you end up being outbid.”
When We Found Home Page 31
