by Nina Levine
Smiling, she asks, “Why did you want to be an architect?”
“Some of my favourite memories growing up are of when Tyler and I had this one particular nanny. She had this love of bridges. I was about nine, and I remember her taking us to different bridges and her pointing out the things she loved about them. She also loved architecture, and we spent hours looking at books of different buildings. She’s the reason.”
“I love that. I wish I’d had someone like that in my life—someone who introduced me to things.”
I frown. “Your parents didn’t?”
“No, Dad was always working, and Mum tended to give her attention to my sister more than me. It’s why I turned to writing. I discovered I could make up my own world and give my characters the happiness I wanted in my own life.” She pauses and then with a cheeky grin, adds, “That, and I could also hurt the ones I wanted.”
“So, you used words to channel your pain,” I murmur.
She nods. “Yeah. I still do.”
“I understand that because I escaped into a world of design to deal with mine. The hours I spend drawing help me forget all the bullshit.”
“Do you do much these days?”
“Not really. I don’t have a lot of spare time between the bar and Sean. I landscaped the backyard, and I’m in the middle of designing a granny flat for a friend, but other than that, I haven’t worked on any other project since I left work.”
She cocks her head. “Do you think you’ll ever go back to that work? I realise the bar might hamper that, but it sounds like you really love designing.”
“I will one day. I’m planning on that, but it feels like there’s a lot of hurdles in my life I need to clear before that can happen.” I lean close to her so I can move a strand of hair out of her eyes. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you how your first day at the new job went.”
“It was okay. I think I may get a little bored with it, to be honest. They’ve got me covering local events and social stuff. Ugh.”
“Can you work your way into what you really want to do?”
She shrugs. “Maybe. But for now, this is money, right?”
“Absolutely.”
Guilt rears its ugly head as I sit with Callie discussing our lives. Keeping the truth from her of what’s currently happening with Jolene is eating into me. I almost tell her twice during the conversation, but in the end, I continue to keep it from her. All I can hope is she never finds out that I wasn’t completely honest with her. In my experience, women hold that shit against you, even if you’ve done it to protect them. And that never leads to a good place.
* * *
“Barry, I need to know what’s happening with the cops. Have you found anything yet?”
My lawyer has been evasive over the last few days every time I call him to ask this question. Today, however, he gives me some hope. “I’m in discussions with the detective, Luke. He’s assuring me that if you give him the information he wants, he’ll drop your involvement. Did you manage to get anything out of her today?”
Barry and I decided that I’d deal with the detective through him going forward. I give him what Jolene told me today.
“Good. I’ll take this to him today.”
“You’ll let me know as soon as you do?”
“I will. And Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Try and relax. This will be over soon.”
“Easier said than done, Barry.” Not when your whole life hangs on this.
14
Callie
Me: What are you doing?
Luke: Zoning out in front of the TV. Sean’s asleep. How’s work?
Me: Ugh. Please send vodka. This is not how Monday mornings are supposed to go.
Luke: I could make it all better tonight.
Me: Go away.
Luke: Seriously, come over for dinner. My food will make you smile again.
Me: So long as food isn’t code for a body part of yours.
Luke: Do you want it to be?
Me: You’re killing me here, dude.
Luke: Come over tonight. Let me kill you a little more. I promise to wear one of those cottony shirts you love.
Me: Gah! Go away, I have to work.
Luke: See you tonight.
I shove my phone away with a groan. This whole “doing the right thing” is really beginning to suck. And it has only been two weeks. Why do I have to have the beliefs I have? Why can’t I be one of those women who can sleep with a married man and not blink twice?
“Callie, are you good to cover that mother’s charity lunch on Thursday?”
I look up to find my boss peering down at me expectantly. “Definitely. I’ve got it in my diary,” I say with a sweet smile. Shoot me now.
“Great. I have some more functions I want you to cover. I’ll email them through later today. How are you going with the weekend’s events?”
“I’ll have them to you on time.”
He grins. “I knew we hired the right person when we hired you.”
With that, he leaves me alone to die a slow, unhappy death filled with society events.
But at least I have a job, and for that, I’m eternally grateful.
* * *
“You weren’t kidding when you said you’d kill me with a cottony shirt, were you?” I ask Luke after he opens his front door to me that night.
He watches me intently. “I’m a pretty serious guy, so when I tell you something, you can be guaranteed I mean it.”
I step inside expecting him to move so I can pass him, but he doesn’t, and I end up in his arms. He embraces me while shuffling me to the side. Backing me up against the wall with one arm around me, he closes the door with the other.
“Hi,” he says in a low rumble. He lets me go, only to place both hands on the wall either side of my body, effectively trapping me.
His face is so close to mine, and his scent is all over me. Unable to form a coherent thought, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “Uh, where’s Sean?” Because surely he should be here right now rescuing me.
Luke’s lips curl into a sexy grin.
Oh, no.
That’s not fair.
That sexy look needs to go.
“He’s at my mum’s tonight. A sleepover with Grandma. And Paris is out, so we have the place to ourselves.”
Jesus, why did I not ask all these questions before I came?
Mental note—know Luke’s family’s schedule better than they do.
I give Luke what I hope is a dirty look. “You need to take a step back there, buddy. This kind of move goes against our whole friend’s only thing we’ve got going on.”
His eyes search mine, and he doesn’t move. I endure a good ten minutes of hell before he finally steps back. Oh, okay, so it’s more like thirty seconds, but honestly, does the man not understand the word ‘friends’?
Pushing his fingers through his hair, he says, “I’m dying here, Callie.” He reaches for my top and grips the bottom of it. “And I know it’s not fair to you for me to say that because it’s my fault we’re stuck in this friend zone, but I want you to know how much I want you.”
“I’m dying, too. But as much as I’d like to forget we agreed to this, I can’t.”
“I know. And I won’t ever pressure you for sex, but surely friends can kiss?”
I lift a brow. “I’ve never had a friend that I’ve kissed before.”
“Didn’t your mum ever tell you it’s good to try new things?” His eyes just won’t let me go, and his grip on my top has tightened.
Two can play this game. “No, my mum always told me to perfect something. I think I should work on perfecting my current behaviour.”
He smirks. “Well, you know, the only way to master a new skill is to push yourself. The harder something is that you keep practicing, the better you’ll get. I can help you with that.”
“I personally think it’s better not to work with those you know. Too many possibilities for problems to occur. P
erhaps I need to find someone else to practice with.”
His eyes flare, and he lets my top go so he can pull my body to his. I quickly try to press my hands against his chest to push away, but his hold is so tight I can barely wiggle. “You never need to find someone new,” he growls. “Ever,” he adds with force.
Oh my.
I like this Luke. All growly and fierce. My lady bits really like this Luke. That growl hit all the right spots. But damn, now I want that kiss as much as he does.
This complicated dating thing is the devil. I’ve never been so conflicted over something in my life.
“How about you feed me and we can go from there?” I suggest. I just need a moment to unscramble myself.
He doesn’t let me go straight away. But then he drops his arms and nods. “Okay, baby.”
He’s called me that twice now and each time it unleashed a whole new wave of longing through me. He has this low, gravelly way of wrapping his lips around that word that I like. And the fact he doesn’t say it all the time makes it feel special.
I follow him into the kitchen and now that I’m not trapped in Luke’s scent, I smell the dinner he’s cooked. “You made homemade pizza?” I ask as I watch him open the oven.
Eyeing me, he says, “Yeah. You like pizza, right?”
I can’t contain my excitement. “It’s only one of my favourite meals.”
He lifts the pizza from the oven and places it on a board. “I made half and half because I wasn’t sure if you were a meat lover or not.”
The pizza has my complete attention. It’s huge. He’s made half meatlover and half supreme. I’m practically drooling here. Shifting my gaze back to his, I say, “I love it all. I’ll pretty much eat any pizza.”
He jerks his chin at the fridge. “Do you wanna get some drinks out while I get this ready? There’s some Vodka Cruisers in the door.”
I watch as he starts slicing the pizza. My heart suddenly feels like it might burst out of my chest. This man. Who would have ever thought Luke and I could get along so well?
Ten minutes later, we’re sitting at the table laughing over what I’ve told him about my day at work. One of the guys I work with says the dumbest things, and I’ve recounted the stupidest thing that came out of his mouth today.
“I know it’s not quite what you wish you were doing, but are you liking the job okay?” Luke asks as he wipes some pizza sauce from the side of my mouth. He's made the best pizza I think I’ve ever tasted; I ate so fast I made a mess of my face.
“I don’t mind it. I just need to suck it up with these functions they want me to cover. One of the reporters stopped by my desk to say hi, and she asked me to help her out with some research on a story, so at least I’ll get to do some interesting work as well.”
“That’s go—” A sound from out the front interrupts us. Luke’s head turns towards the front door before looking back my way. “Was that a knock?”
I nod. “I think so.”
He pushes his chair back. “I won’t be long.”
I happily devour another slice of pizza while he’s gone. Muffled voices filter down the hallway, and I make out a woman’s voice. I then hear Luke say, “I’ll just grab it for you.” A moment later, he comes back and searches in one of the kitchen drawers for something.
When a woman joins him, I watch in fascination as her eyes bulge at the sight of me. “Hi,” she says. “Luke didn’t tell me he had a guest, sorry.”
“No worries,” I say as I go back for another piece of pizza. This will be my fourth piece, and I give zero fucks about that. And I’m fairly sure I’ll be begging Luke to make this again very soon. To hell with the extra yoga I’ll have to do.
I watch Luke and the woman interact. She looks to be about his age. Actually, no, on closer inspection she looks older. It’s the lines around her eyes that make me think this. She’s carrying some extra weight. Not much, but enough that she has a muffin top. I only notice that because she’s wearing the tightest jeans known to mankind and a matching ill-fitting V-neck tee. Her cleavage is spilling all over the place. And now that I notice it, she’s pushing that cleavage towards Luke.
I sit up straighter when I realise this woman has a thing for him. However, I know I have nothing to worry about because my man is oblivious to it all. He’s simply intent on getting whatever it is she wants.
Men can be so blind sometimes.
She slinks up against him, her eyes all flirty. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?” she says to him while doing her best to rub those big-ass boobs all over him.
Vomit.
She is shameless, and I instantly dislike her.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “Alanis, this is Callie. Callie, Alanis.”
Alanis leaves him and makes her way to where I’m sitting at the table beyond the breakfast bar. Her gaze takes in the pizza before meeting mine again. I don’t like the glint I see there. I’ve only just met this woman, but I’m certain she’s a scheming bitch.
When she opens her mouth and directs her venom at me, I know I’m 100 percent right. “He makes the best pizza, doesn’t he, sweetie?” Her brows lift. “I see you’re enjoying it. From experience, I can tell you that you’ll need to add some cardio to your schedule after tonight. You don’t want that top to be any tighter than it already is.”
That bitch.
Her freaking top is tighter than mine.
I smile sweetly at her. “Oh, I think Luke might like it if my top gets a little tighter. I think I’ll skip that cardio, but thanks for the advice. Us girls have to stick together, right?”
Darkness briefly slashes across her face. She recovers quickly, though. “We sure do, sweetie.” With that, she turns and walks back to where Luke’s watching me with a strange look. She rubs her hand down his arm and says, “Honey, do you want me to look after Sean any days next week? Now that Rod and I are back home, I’m free whenever you need me.” The fact she has a man of her own but is still flirting with mine, does not surprise me.
“Thanks. I should be okay, though. I think I’ve sorted my staff out at work a—”
I cut in. “And he’s got me now.”
Luke’s eyes meet mine, and he hits me with a million-dollar smile. “And I’ve got Callie and Paris,” he says.
Alanis waves her hand around in the air. “Pfft, you can never have enough babysitters. I’ll check in on you in a couple of days.” She then kisses him on the cheek before adding, “It was so good to see you. And thanks for signing that document for me.”
The woman has no shame. Kissing a man in front of his woman is not okay.
After she leaves, Luke joins me again. He’s frowning. “Did something just happen there that I missed?”
I want to laugh. “Uh, yes. Your friend just tried to stake her claim on you.”
“Alanis? She’s married.”
I press my lips together and shake my head. “She might be married, but she’s got the hots for you, buddy. And where the hell is her wedding ring?” There was no ring on her finger. I checked.
“She doesn’t wear it. Something about skin allergies.”
“How do you know her?”
“She was Jolene’s best friend for years. She and Jolene used to do everything together. They were both pregnant at the same time, too, but Alanis’s baby died of SIDS. She adores Sean and spends a lot of time with him. I would have been lost without her after Jolene went to prison.”
Oh, God.
This woman is a permanent fixture in Luke’s life.
“They’re not friends anymore?”
“No. Alanis was actually the one who found the physical evidence that Jolene committed the murder.”
I frown. “How?”
“She was babysitting Sean one day when she discovered a box full of evidence. Stuff like maps of the area where the murder took place, a brochure of the motel where it happened, receipts for the motel room and rope…” His voice falters at that, but he continues. “Printed research on how to kill�
�� Fuck, sorry, talking about this makes me—”
I place my hand on his arm. “It’s okay. You don’t need to go back over it all.” I decide to give this woman another chance. If she means this much to Luke, she mustn’t be as bad as I think. First impressions are often wrong. “It sounds like you’ve got a good friend there.”
His eyes find mine. “Yeah.” His voice is croaky, and I can see how much this is affecting him.
I lose myself in the moment and bend forward. Brushing my lips across his, I murmur, “I’m sorry you’ve had to go through all this.”
He reaches out and slides his hand around my neck. Holding me so I can’t move my lips away from his, he rasps, “Life’s getting better every day, Callie. You’ve given me that.”
His lips find mine again in a slow-burn kiss that morphs into desperate need. It’s not long before I’m straddling him with my arms around his neck while we kiss as if we’ve never kissed in our life. As if we’re fighting to experience every amazing feeling a kiss can give, all in this one moment.
When he finally pulls away, breathless, I instantly miss his touch. Resting his forehead against mine, he mutters, “Sorry about that. Momentary lapse…”
We sit like this for a long while, both of us struggling to recover our breaths. We’re also both having trouble letting each other go. Our bodies are still pressed hard against each other, and our arms are still around the other.
“I don’t want to move,” I whisper.
“I don’t want you to, either.” His eyes find mine and hold on just as tight as his arms.
I bite my lip. “Are you any closer to the divorce?” I ask hesitantly. I don’t want to nag him about this. And yet, I really want it to hurry up.
His eyes leave mine, and he looks down for a moment. “I think so.” He gives me his eyes again, but only for a quick second before he looks down again. He then stands while still holding me. Placing me down, he says, “I’ll know more soon.”
As I watch him begin to clear the table, I can’t help but feel like he just fobbed me off. It was like he was trying to avoid that whole conversation.
