Taunting Callum - Kristen Proby Page 0,42
I ever did at all.
I’m dating a prince. Like, an honest to God prince, not just someone named Prince. And I’m still not sure how that happened, but I don’t want it to stop anytime soon.
We haven’t spent a night apart in two weeks. Mostly, I stay at the boathouse at night because David should be with his wife. It’s just easier, security-wise. And I like the boathouse. There’s really no need for me to be home, especially now that we’re firmly into autumn, and my summer duties around my property are all over for the season. Meaning, no watering, weeding, or pulling vegetables out of the ground. So, spending time away isn’t hurting anything.
And I don’t know how long this will last, how long Callum will be here, so I’m soaking in every minute I can.
Callum is romantic, attentive, and funny. He’s also damn good at his job. This morning before I left for work at the ass crack of dawn, Callum was already up and arguing over the phone about something to do with the Olympic committee.
The other person on the line finally saw things Callum’s way. I have a feeling they usually do.
Hearing his stern voice was a turn on. I didn’t know before him that I had a thing for gruff, intense men. And I don’t outside of the bedroom.
But when we’re in bed? Holy hell, his intensity, the way he takes control with a firm hand renders me defenseless in the best way possible. A shrink would probably tell me it’s because nobody’s done that for me in any context over the course of my life. I’ve always had to make the decisions and fend for myself. Being with a man who takes the reins out of my hands, at least where intimacy is concerned, is liberating.
And they’d be right.
But I’m also leaning toward it’s hot as fuck.
I smirk at the thought as I put the tray of fresh huckleberry muffins into the display case. We’re about fifteen minutes from opening, and so far, I haven’t seen or heard from Gretchen.
In the past, that was unusual. Since she’s been seeing the douche nozzle, sadly, it’s the norm.
I hate that guy.
The door dings and, speak of the devil, there’s Gretchen and the boyfriend of the year himself.
“Good morning,” Gretchen says. Her eyes look tired, but she offers me a small smile.
“Hello.” My eyes turn to Miles. I don’t smile. “Miles.”
“Hey there, boss lady,” he says with a wink. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to stir up any trouble, I’m just dropping off my girl for work. I’d love to take a cup of coffee with me.”
“That’ll be three-fifty.” I pass him the empty cup so he can fill it himself at the self-serve station.
“No employee discount?” he asks.
“You’re not now, nor will you ever be, my employee.” I’d rather go out of business.
“Ouch.” He winces and then shrugs as he passes me a five-dollar bill. “Give the change to Gretch, will ya?”
I roll my eyes and turn to the cash register. Miles takes his time making his coffee, then turns with a wave for Gretchen. “Have a good day, hon. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Bye,” Gretchen calls after him. When the door closes behind his sorry ass, I turn to my employee.
“Why are you still seeing him?”
“Don’t start, Aspen,” she says with a sigh. “I know you don’t like him, but I do.”
“Why do you look so tired?”
“Because I was up late and had to work early this morning.” She presses her lips together, and it’s clear she doesn’t want to say anything more about it.
“Gretch, I don’t want to see you unhappy, and he makes you unhappy.”
She smiles at me, trying to make it bright and cheerful, but it falls way short.
“I’m totally happy and completely fine. I promise. I’m just tired. No need to worry about me.”
Oh, there’s every need to worry. I’ve seen idiots like him all my life. Controlling, manipulative, mean bullies. I’ll never understand why she can’t seem to kick him to the curb after knowing him for less than a month.
“Okay, I’ll drop it. But I’m here if you need to talk, a place to stay, anything. Please promise me if you’re ever in trouble, you’ll call me right away.”
“I promise.” It’s a whisper. I want to shake her and make her talk to me. But I know that won’t work. I have to give her space and let her come to her own conclusions about that loser.
It’s a slow