Page 90 of Screwed
“Okay.”
He had to clear his mind and focus on work. He set their bid on his desk. He’d take it over to Jed Crenshaw’s office later this afternoon. One day ahead of the deadline. Right now he had to focus on this status update meeting for the new transmission-line project.
Somehow he made it through the day. But he’d promised Callie he’d bring over Chinese takeout tonight and they could watch more episodes ofDaredevil. She’d been working so hard the last few weeks getting everything ready at her shop. How much of this urgency to get the shop open had to do with proving to her parents that she could do this? Even though she said she didn’t care what they thought. Whatever her motivation, her work ethic and determination impressed him. When she wasn’t painting or building bookshelves, she was baking unbelievable cakes and cookies. And people were buying them like crazy.
He sat in his truck in front of Moon Empire restaurant, his head leaned back. He couldn’t cancel on her now. Could he? Should he? Christ. Helpless frustration rose inside him. He was screwed whatever he did. His chest tight and belly muscles rigid, he tried to breathe normally. Slowly. In. Out.
Damn.
Okay. She was expecting him with Chinese food. He’d do this and figure out something. Somehow.
He went inside and ordered spring rolls, dumplings, sesame chicken, and fried rice. “And some shrimp lo mein,” he added. He waited for the order, passing the time by scanning emails on his phone, replying to a couple of business ones. He swiped the screen to bring up Facebook, and of course the first thing he saw was a photo of one of Callie’s cakes. Amazing. He studied the image. Not only was the cake beautiful, with delicate flowers and what looked like pearls adorning it, but she was a pretty good little photographer. He smiled, scrolling through all the comments complimenting her. He was so fucking proud of her he could burst with it.
He gathered up the paper sack full of steamy, delicious-smelling food and carried it out to his truck. Soon he was pulling into Callie’s driveway. She’d given him a remote for the garage door, and he used it to enter the garage and park.
This had been their solution to anyone from her family, or God forbid, Beau, dropping over unexpectedly. He entered her kitchen from the garage with the key she’d also given him.
Yeah, this was getting way too serious.
For once she wasn’t in the kitchen. “Hey, Callie! I’m here with the food.”
“Be right down!” she called from upstairs.
He started unpacking cartons of food, setting them on her island. A moment later he heard her light steps running down the stairs, and she appeared in the kitchen. “Hi!” Her dark hair was damp around her shoulders, and she had no makeup on. She wore a pair of jeans rolled at the ankle and a flowy tank top. Her smile glowed.
She was gorgeous. His breath stuck in his throat. How could he do this? How could he end things with her?
“That smells fantastic,” she added.
He forced a smile, his stomach burning. “It does. You hungry?”
“Starving.”
Probably another day she’d forgotten to eat. She needed him around to feed her and make sure she didn’t starve.
Another bad thought.
She grabbed plates out of a cupboard, and they loaded up with food. “Sorry, I was just getting out of the shower when you got here. But everything’s looking good at the shop.”
“Good.”
She handed him a pair of chopsticks, and they carried their dinners into the family room. “Daredevilnow?” she asked. “Or later?”
“Let’s watch the news first.”
“Sure.” She clicked on the TV. “How was your day?”
Shitty. I had a weird, uncomfortable, annoying conversation with your ex-husband. People are gossiping about us. We could lose the project. I have to stop seeing you.But he couldn’t bring himself to say any of this out loud. “It was okay.”
Two hours later, Callie was asleep with her head on his shoulder.
His chest filled with softness as he stroked her hair off her face. She was exhausted. She’d been killing herself to get the bakery ready. He’d done as much as he could to help her, but she was pretty determined to do it on her own, plus he had his own business to keep going. And his mom and sister to look after.
He turned off the TV and shifted her so he could pick her up. She made a soft noise and snuggled into him as he carried her upstairs to her bed. “Hey, darlin’,” he said softly. “Let’s get you out of your jeans.”
He’d already discovered she had no bra on, so with the loose jeans off, he tucked her into bed. He paused, looking down at her, the smooth curve of her cheek with her face pressed to the pillow, her silky dark hair around her shoulders, her lips soft. Once more he stroked her hair.
A fist squeezed his throat, and he straightened, devouring her with burning eyes. He clenched his fists and tried to breathe, his stomach threatening to rebel.
