“I don’t blame you.” He laughed. “I’d be doing the same thing, but the woman knows where I sleep.”
“So what did you decide on?”
“Hell if I know. I chose three options before she was finally satisfied.”
“Poor baby.” She moved, the sound of fabric sliding coming through the phone. He closed his eyes, picturing her lying out on her bed the same way he currently was on his, wearing a pair of sweats and a tank top. He liked that she went for comfort instead of sexiness for sleeping. It was such a contrast from how she carried herself during the daytime—perfectly put together in every way.
“I wish you were here.” He wasn’t sure where the words came from, but they were the stark truth.
“I wish I was there, too. I don’t trust that you’re taking care of yourself.” She paused. “And I miss you. I know it’s only been a few days, but—”
He cut in before she could tag some qualifier on there to take away from the statement. “I miss you, too. Do you want to go get lunch tomorrow?” Or breakfast. Or dinner. Or, hell, he’d settle for coffee. Anything that got them into the same room and settled the uncomfortable feeling he hadn’t been able to shake after the way they left things the other day. They might have talked every night they’d been apart, but it wasn’t close to the same thing.
“I wish I could.” The regret in her voice was real. “Papa and I have a meeting that I can’t reschedule.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to ask what the meeting concerned. He knew for a fact his father was coordinating things on his own without talking to Colm about them, so it only stood to reason that Colm was doing the same thing. But bringing business up meant taking away from the comfort and intimacy that came from just having a conversation with Callie. Business could wait, at least until tomorrow.
Instead, he said, “Soon, Callie. I want to see you soon.”
She shifted again, maybe rolling over on her bed. “Let me see how the meeting goes, and then I’ll have a better idea of when I’m free. I want to see you, too.”
“Deal.” It wasn’t an exact date, but the intent was clear. She wanted to see him as much as he wanted to see her. He yawned, a wave of exhaustion rolling over him.
“Go to sleep, Teague. You need it.”
“You too.” She wasn’t getting enough. He didn’t have to sleep next to her every night to know that. Every time he talked to her, she sounded more run-down and tired. Last night she hadn’t been able to remember the last time she ate when he asked. It was added motivation to get some alone time with her—at least then he could make sure she got a full meal and maybe a nap. “Good night, angel.”
* * *
“I will say, Callie, I’m surprised by what you’re proposing.”
Callie kept her nerves off her face through sheer force of will. In the days since Teague’s attack, she’d been petitioning hard for her father to let her in. It was only today that he finally relented and promised to hear her out. The admiration on his face almost made the fight worthwhile.
Almost.
She took a deep breath. Every time she brought up Brendan, Papa changed the subject, making it abundantly clear that he didn’t want to hear her confession, no matter what he might think happened. With that avenue closed to her, she’d focused on the war itself. “They’ll be expecting a full-frontal attack, which means they’ll be prepared for it. This will cripple a significant portion of their income.” And destroying the factory where the Hallorans stored their illicit goods dealt them a blow that was unlikely to result in casualties. It wasn’t a perfect plan as such things went, but it was better than what John was suggesting—work their way through Halloran territory, taking out every hub they used on the way. The loss of life would be devastating on both sides—she refused to sit back and allow it to happen.
Thank God Papa seemed intrigued by her plan.
He sat back, tapping his steepled fingers against his lips. “They’ll use more than one location—they’re too smart to store everything valuable in one place.”
“Even so, taking out one will hurt them with less chance of loss on our side.” She met her father’s gaze, her hands folded demurely in her lap. “When we go