Taunting Callum - Kristen Proby Page 0,27

the door.

I let out a long sigh and reach out to flip the lock.

“Oh, Gretchen, this is nothing but trouble.”

I haven’t seen Callum in a week. Not that I counted on seeing him, it had just suddenly become a habit to run into him every few days. Especially after the picnic in the park and that sexy-as-all-get-out kiss after we played in the water, I thought I might see more of him.

But Callum seems to come and go on his own schedule. I’m grateful that I’ve been nice to him, and even a little flirty, but not all-in.

Callum isn’t the kind of man I can get invested in. He’s made that crystal clear. And I’m done feeling angry or bitter about it. He didn’t promise me anything. He’s never promised me anything.

Besides, it could be worse. He could act like Miles, who seems to be stuck to Gretchen like Velcro. I’ll take Callum over Miles any day of the week, for several reasons.

I take the groceries out of my car, hurry through the rain to the front door of my house, unlock it, and let myself in. I closed up the café an hour ago, and I’m taking the next two days off.

I can’t freaking wait.

I fired Kelli after she admitted that she wasn’t really sick but was out on other job interviews. The next day, I hired two college students to replace her. Both of my new hires, Paula and Rachel, are mostly trained, eager for the work, and ready to go. So with Gretchen in charge, they, along with Wendy, my other regular morning help, have it under control.

I’m going to read a book and paint a bathroom. I might even take a nap, which just sounds decadent. If this rain ever clears up, I’ll go for a walk.

But the point is, I don’t have to do anything at all if I don’t want to. I have ice cream in these bags. If I want to loaf around and eat chocolate peanut butter while marathoning the hell out of Netflix, so be it.

I do a little dance in excitement, then turn and scream when I see a face looking through my back door.

“Sorry!” Callum yells through the glass. He’s soaked from the rain, and I hurry over to unlock the door and let him in. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I have a front door,” I remind him as I fetch a towel and pass it to him so he can dry his face and hair. “With a doorbell. When that rings, I don’t have a heart attack.”

“I saw you go inside with the groceries, and I thought I’d just meet you back here. Bloody bad idea.” He dabs at his face and then sets the wet towel on my counter. “Are you okay?”

“As soon as my heart dislodges from my throat and returns to my chest, I will be fine.” I take a breath. “I figured you’d gone back to London.”

“I did,” he admits. “I just returned this morning.”

“Oh.” I brush my hair out of my face, surprised at this turn of events.

“I had a business meeting that I couldn’t miss, and it was better if I appeared in person rather than virtually. I also looked in on my father. I’m not sure if you knew, but he had a heart attack last year, and I don’t like being gone longer than a few weeks at a time so I can keep an eye on him.”

“I’m sorry, I hadn’t heard.” I reach out and pat his arm, feeling strong muscles under his long-sleeved shirt.

“It wasn’t publicized,” he says. “It was a mild heart attack, but it scared the hell out of all of us.”

“I’m sure it did. I’m glad he’s doing well.”

He nods. “All this formality is pissing me off.”

Before I can reply, he swoops in and plants his magical lips on mine, kissing me thoroughly. His fingers dive into my hair, and he moans low in his throat as if he’s starved for me.

It’s intoxicating. Surprising.

Okay, it’s pretty damn awesome.

“Did you think I would leave for good and not say goodbye?” he asks, his forehead tipped against mine.

“You did before, and we had sex. And I don’t mean that in a bitchy way, I’m just stating the truth.”

He frowns. “I really buggered things up with you. Give me your mobile.”

“Excuse me?”

“Please give me your mobile.”

I comply and watch as he taps the screen, then passes it back to me.

“I added my number in there and texted