tell your secret girlfriend I like her shoes.”
I rolled my eyes, stepped back, and shut the door in her face.
“If your secret girlfriend needs a place to stay, let me know,” she said through the door. “I might have a last-minute cancel on one of my lake cabins.”
“Go away.”
I ran my hand over my face. I needed coffee so I could think.
What was going to happen now? Would Callie say goodbye and I’d never see her again? Maybe I could convince her to start up the postcard thing again, but send them to me. At least I’d keep some connection to her. I could keep a secret; that clearly wasn’t an issue. I’d just burn them after I read them. Then there’d be no evidence of her.
I hated that idea. Not because I’d want to keep the postcards, or because I was worried about people finding out. It was because I didn’t want her to leave.
The floor creaked behind me. I looked over my shoulder and it felt like the wind had been knocked out of my lungs.
Callie crept out from the hallway, dressed in one of my flannel shirts. Her crazy hair was a mess, and I couldn’t tell if she was wearing anything underneath. The shirt was long enough on her, it might have been hiding her shorts. But her legs were looking awfully bare.
I cleared my throat. “Mornin’.”
“Hey.” She brushed her hair back from her face. “Was that your sister?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry, she doesn’t know you’re here.”
“Thanks.” She glanced down at the shirt she was wearing. “Oh, sorry, I found this in your closet. I hope you don’t mind. I left my bag in the car last night.”
I didn’t mind. The problem was, I liked the way she looked in my shirt a lot more than I should have. “It’s fine. Hungry?”
She covered her mouth to stifle a yawn. “A bit. Sorry, my body still hasn’t figured out what time zone it’s in.”
I glanced toward the kitchen. “I don’t have much here. I don’t have people over that often. Or, you know, ever.”
“That’s okay. Just coffee would be great.”
“Sure.” I paused for a second, waiting for her to say she didn’t need breakfast because she was leaving anyway. The thought made my chest hurt. I felt like I was on borrowed time with her. Like if I didn’t say something fast, she’d be out the door. “I’ll run into town and get some food. You can just hunker down here.”
Her lips parted, like she was about to say something, but she closed her mouth again.
“You got somewhere you need to be?” I asked.
She lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “No, not really.”
“Then I’ll go get breakfast.”
I didn’t wait for her to reply. Just started some coffee, then went back to my room to throw on some jeans and a clean t-shirt. I wasn’t going to keep her captive—she could walk right out that door anytime she wanted to—but if I could coax a little more time out of her, I was going to do it.
Why? Because seeing her again was messing with my insides in ways I both hated and couldn’t get enough of.
When I came out, she was in my kitchen waiting for the coffee to brew. She looked damn good in my shirt. She’d been pretty as a teenager, but now? Holy hell, she was hot as sin.
I really needed to stop thinking like that. This was Callie Kendall. She wasn’t standing in the kitchen wearing my shirt, her hair a mess, because I’d spent last night fucking her senseless. Although that’s exactly what she looked like, and I was hard as steel just thinking about it.
Damn it, Gibson, knock that shit off.
Tearing my eyes away from those ridiculous legs, I grabbed my phone and keys. “I’ll be back. If anyone comes over, don’t answer.”
She said goodbye as I was walking out the door. I just grunted, shutting the door behind me. Then I checked twice to make sure it was locked before heading to my truck.
I drove into town and stopped at the Pop In. Of course it was busy. The tourist season was winding down, but there were still a lot more people around than I liked. I just needed to get in and get out, preferably without any of my nosy family seeing me.
At least Scarlett wasn’t here.
I got some eggs and bread, but realized I had no idea what she liked. Shit. Inexperienced with women I was not, but I had