Taunting Callum - Kristen Proby Page 0,17
tent doesn’t sound fun in the least.”
“No camping.”
“Day trips are really all I have time for anyway. Drips & Sips is more than a full-time gig.”
“When is the last time you went on holiday?”
“I’ve never taken a vacation.”
The bike wobbles beneath me as my head whips over to stare at her, and I have to stop myself from falling.
“Never?”
“Nope.”
“That’s incredible.”
“I don’t have much time for travel.”
“If you could go anywhere at all, where would you like to go?”
“The Maldives,” she says without hesitation. “The photos make it look like heaven, and I heard it’s sinking into the sea. I’d like to see it before it’s gone.”
I can take you there tonight.
I want to do just that. Whisk her away for an incredible holiday in paradise.
But I don’t think she’d be open to that. Not yet.
“What about you?” she asks.
“Me?”
“Yes, is there somewhere in the world you haven’t been that you’d like to visit?”
I frown, thinking it over. “I’ve been pretty much everywhere,” I say. “Actually, there are some things in Alaska I haven’t seen that I think would be fascinating.”
“You could take an Alaskan cruise,” she suggests. “If you like water, that is.”
“I don’t mind the water, but I think what I want to see would best be done on foot.”
“You want to walk across Alaska?”
“Parts of it,” I say with a laugh. “You look appalled.”
“That doesn’t sound fun at all. If I’m on vacation, I don’t want to hike in the middle of nowhere. I want to sit on a gorgeous beach with a cold drink and a hot cabana boy.”
I raise a brow. “Cabana boy?”
“Sure. He can fetch me things and just look good.”
“Hmm.” I’ll make sure any servers in the Maldives who come into contact with us are female.
I’ll be the only man she ogles.
“Well, this was fun, but I have to turn back,” she says as she comes to a stop and takes a drink of water. “I have the afternoon shift at the café.”
“You take different shifts?”
“Yeah, we rotate. It’s fair that way. Although I’m around for both shifts many days, particularly when we’re shorthanded. Have a good day.”
“Wait.”
She stops and raises a brow at me.
“What time shall I pick you up on Saturday?”
“I’ll just meet you there.”
“That’s not how this works. If I’m escorting you, I’ll pick you up.”
She bites her lip, and just when I think she’s about to say no, she says, “Seven works.”
“I’ll see you on Saturday at seven, then. Have a good day, Aspen.”
She waves. “You, too.”
I watch her ride away, her ass sitting perfectly on her seat. For the first time in too bloody long, I feel hope catch in my chest.
I can’t wait for Saturday.
Chapter 5
~Aspen~
“I would kill for your hair,” Monica says as she takes my red curls from a riot of craziness to a sexy, sleek, and sophisticated ‘do.
“And I’d kill to have you live with me so it looks like this every day. Because, trust me, it doesn’t. It’s usually a frizzy mess.”
“Nonsense,” Monica says. “It’s not frizzy at all because your best friend made you start using decent hair products to keep it tamed. You’re welcome, by the way.”
“Your makeup has never looked better,” Natasha says, stepping back to take a look at her handiwork. Both of my friends came over to help me get ready for this charity event, where apparently, I’ve been roped into going as Callum’s date.
I’m still not entirely sure how that happened, except that I’m doing Ellie a solid.
That’s right, it’s for Ellie.
“When do I get to see?” I ask.
“Perfection takes a minute,” Monica says as she continues fussing with my hair. Natasha comes at me with yet another brush.
“I don’t need perfection,” I reply. “I just need: I don’t look like Quasimodo.”
“Oh, honey, we can do much better than that,” Natasha says. With a final stroke of the brush, she stands back and grins from ear to ear. “I’m damn good.”
“I mean, was I horrible to begin with?”
I hope not. I don’t usually wear a lot of makeup.
“Of course, not. You’re gorgeous. I just accentuated what was already there,” Natasha says. “This is all you.”
“And your brushes,” I add.
“I’m done, too,” Monica says and reaches for the mirror. “You, my love, are an absolute knockout.”
“Yeah, yeah, let me see.”
She turns the mirror to me, and I just stare at myself for a moment. I didn’t look this good on my wedding day. Sure, I was seventeen, hugely pregnant, and flat broke, but still.
“See? She’s speechless,” Natasha says with