Page 15 of Chasing Callie

CALLIE

For the most part, the locals haven’t been too chatty, but when a squeal cuts through the crowd, I know my luck has run out.

“Callie!” Paulette, the former cheer captain, claps her hands. While I never enjoyed the idea of a peppy little song and pompoms, she was always nice to me. “Girl, you look amazing!”

Happiness shoots through me. See? I look good. Theo can eat rocks. “Thanks, Paulette. What can I get you?”

“Vodka soda.”

I pour her drink. She’s clearly bursting at the seams to tell me something. “How’s life treating you?” I ask, offering her what she wants in the hopes she’ll leave a good tip.

Paulette launches into long, achingly detailed stories about her kids, her husband, the dental practice they opened in town. I nod and smile, making appropriate noises of interest while simultaneously pouring a round of shots for the bachelorette party Bree is serving. Bree is a good waitress, but she sure is jumpy and I can’t help wondering who made her that way.

“Anyway, we got a Tahoe last year and I was so mad that we didn’t get the leather seats, but I’m so spoiled.”

Jesus Christ, Paulette. Wrap it up.

I keep my best customer service smile on because I need all the tips I can get. The door opens and the air seems to thicken around me. The hairs on the back of my neck rise before I even glance over, the molecules in the room rearranging themselves around a presence I’d recognize long after I’m dead and gone.

My attention cuts to the front door. His gaze is set on me, knocking the air from my lungs. Six feet tall, just like his brothers. His jaw is covered with scruff, but Knox makes an unkempt beard look amazing. He’s rugged, stacked with a perfect blend of muscle and fat, and his piercing light blue eyes snare mine. Knox Williams could make a woman forget herself. My pulse drums in my ears, and for a beautiful moment, his attention on me is all that matters. Then my brain slices through the moment, reminding me exactly why I can’t fall for him again.

“Hey! Can I get my margarita or what?” a woman who is close to getting cut off demands.

I wrench my attention away from Knox. “Uh, yeah.” Moments ago I was powering through drinks, but now my movements slow as I mix the woman’s drink, the salt rimming the glass is suddenly fascinating. My lungs ache as I try to control my breathing. Why does he still make me feel like I’m dizzy? I focus on the sound of the ice sloshing in the shaker. Don’t look over. Don’t look over. But my eyes have their own plan and flick in his direction.

He strides through the crowd, a god among men, and people move instinctively out of his path. In ten years, he’s somehow become even more devastatingly beautiful, all hard angles and controlled power.

He makes a beeline for the bar, and my heart hammers. A local guy occupying the stool directly in front of my station gains the pleasure of his pointed glare. Knox says something I can’t hear, and the guy immediately vacates the seat.

His blue eyes, the ones I recreated in countless sketches, lock onto mine.

My heart trembles. I turn away, focusing intently on the drinks I’m making. My hands shake slightly, and I curse under my breath. Anger burns through me, followed by a rush of hurt I thought I’d buried years ago.

“Callie.” My name in his mouth still sounds the same. Like smoke and honey.

I ignore him, slide the margarita to the woman, take her payment, and move to help another customer. But he’s persistent. Knox hates being ignored.

“Callie Mae!” Louder this time.

The locals nearby have gone quiet, watching the exchange with blatant interest. Big Ridge lives for drama, and they know exactly who Knox is to me. Or at least, who he was. I love this town, but sometimes I hate it for this very reason. It’s impossible to escape the past.

“Jack and Coke?” I ask the woman next to him, pointedly avoiding his gaze.

“I’ll have a beer,” Knox says, voice low and commanding. “Whatever’s on tap.”

I continue ignoring him, pouring the Jack and Coke and hoping he can’t see the pounding of my pulse.

Maura materializes beside me, sensing trouble. “Is everything okay over here?”

“Fine,” I mutter.

“I’ll take care of you.” She smiles at Knox, professional but cool. “What can I get you?”

“A hurricane,” he says in that low, deep voice of his, and my throat goes dry. His focus never leaves my face. “But I want Callie to deliver it.”

The glass almost slips from my hand. Every cell in my body suddenly electrifies with awareness of him, the space between us, the weight of every person watching. All the years of our shared history. The times we got a little too close and the possibilities of what might happen if we closed the distance are suspended in my mind.

Maura glances between us then raises an eyebrow at me. “Your call, sweetheart.”