lightly. “Time to take you home.”
The words zipped through Callie’s brain, lighting little fires in their wake. She hesitated. If Matt took her home to fix her cut and keep an eye on her, despite his previous words, the risk of a repeat in the hammock was great.
After informing the clerk to take Callie off the waiting list, they made their way out the door into the night. The air muggy and warm and, after dealing with Mr. Croft for the past hour and a half, Callie had never been so grateful to leave an air-conditioned building. Regrettably, leaving also meant she had to make up her mind how to tell Matt.
And soon.
Thirty minutes later Callie opened the door to her condominium and tried hard not to show just how torn she was by his presence. But she needed to be honest with Matt. No doubt the man expected to finish what they’d started. And, God knows, Callie longed for the same thing.
Just tell him while he cleans up your cut, Callie.
Sure, she’d just wait until he was touching her with those fabulous hands. Nothing wrong with that plan, at all.
Her throat tight, Callie set her purse on the foyer table and then led Matt into her kitchen. Matt came to a stop in the middle of the room, scanning the dark wood cabinets, the marble counters and the top-of-the-line kitchen appliances. Despite the small size, her upscale condo had everything she needed, including being located in the fabulous Arts District.
“Not bad for a former tomboy who used to catch crawdads,” he said.
Callie smiled. “How about a drink before we get started?”
Lord knows she needed one.
“Scotch?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
Hopefully a bit of alcohol would take the edge off, so she poured two, rehearsing her lines for the conversation that was about to take place.
Handing Matt his drink, she said, “I suppose you heard about Colin and Tommy’s big plans to take the DoZ weekend and go public.”
Matt sighed and threaded his fingers through his hair, leaving sandy-colored spikes in his wake. “I’m sorry.”
She let out a soft huff, amused. “Not your fault.”
“You could have said no. Tommy and Penny were already getting what they wanted.”
“Colin asked.”
Matt said nothing in response, so she handed Matt his drink and he simply followed her down the hall of hardwood floors and into the bathroom containing the same dark wood cabinets and marble counters as the kitchen. The mere fact that Matt hadn’t commented meant she had some explaining to do. Callie leaned her hip against the cabinet and watched Matt pull out everything he needed from his bag, totally focused on his task.
She’d experienced firsthand the chaos of the E.R. waiting room. God only knows how much worse the noise and confusion had been in back, which explained a lot about Matt’s ability to focus. Obviously the man had learned to block out unnecessary stimuli, concentrating on the task in front of him. And the memory of having all that attention directed at her sent heat crawling up her back.
“I’m curious what kind of hold Colin has over you,” Matt said.
“I told you before, I owe him.”
“Yeah, but I considered your debt more of an ‘I’m going to organize this weekend party for him’ kind of obligation. Not an ‘I’m going upgrade the whole shindig to a blowout publicity stop’ kind of obligation.”
He’d stopped, a package of gauze in his hand as he watched Callie closely.
“I’m assuming this has something to do with your college blunder,” he went on.
Callie almost laughed at the benign-sounding title he’d given her mistake.
“When I got dragged to the police station, Colin made the long drive to come bail me out. Colin was livid, and I was angry because I hadn’t even asked for his help. He just assumed and came.” Her voice dropped a notch. “And, unfortunately, the trip wound up screwing up his finals. He...” She looked away for a moment. “He almost flunked that semester.”
She took a deep breath,
The words zipped through Callie’s brain, lighting little fires in their wake. She hesitated. If Matt took her home to fix her cut and keep an eye on her, despite his previous words, the risk of a repeat in the hammock was great.
After informing the clerk to take Callie off the waiting list, they made their way out the door into the night. The air muggy and warm and, after dealing with Mr. Croft for the past hour and a half, Callie had never been so grateful to leave an air-conditioned building. Regrettably, leaving also meant she had to make up her mind how to tell Matt.
And soon.
Thirty minutes later Callie opened the door to her condominium and tried hard not to show just how torn she was by his presence. But she needed to be honest with Matt. No doubt the man expected to finish what they’d started. And, God knows, Callie longed for the same thing.
Just tell him while he cleans up your cut, Callie.
Sure, she’d just wait until he was touching her with those fabulous hands. Nothing wrong with that plan, at all.
Her throat tight, Callie set her purse on the foyer table and then led Matt into her kitchen. Matt came to a stop in the middle of the room, scanning the dark wood cabinets, the marble counters and the top-of-the-line kitchen appliances. Despite the small size, her upscale condo had everything she needed, including being located in the fabulous Arts District.
“Not bad for a former tomboy who used to catch crawdads,” he said.
Callie smiled. “How about a drink before we get started?”
Lord knows she needed one.
“Scotch?” she asked.
“Absolutely.”
Hopefully a bit of alcohol would take the edge off, so she poured two, rehearsing her lines for the conversation that was about to take place.
Handing Matt his drink, she said, “I suppose you heard about Colin and Tommy’s big plans to take the DoZ weekend and go public.”
Matt sighed and threaded his fingers through his hair, leaving sandy-colored spikes in his wake. “I’m sorry.”
She let out a soft huff, amused. “Not your fault.”
“You could have said no. Tommy and Penny were already getting what they wanted.”
“Colin asked.”
Matt said nothing in response, so she handed Matt his drink and he simply followed her down the hall of hardwood floors and into the bathroom containing the same dark wood cabinets and marble counters as the kitchen. The mere fact that Matt hadn’t commented meant she had some explaining to do. Callie leaned her hip against the cabinet and watched Matt pull out everything he needed from his bag, totally focused on his task.
She’d experienced firsthand the chaos of the E.R. waiting room. God only knows how much worse the noise and confusion had been in back, which explained a lot about Matt’s ability to focus. Obviously the man had learned to block out unnecessary stimuli, concentrating on the task in front of him. And the memory of having all that attention directed at her sent heat crawling up her back.
“I’m curious what kind of hold Colin has over you,” Matt said.
“I told you before, I owe him.”
“Yeah, but I considered your debt more of an ‘I’m going to organize this weekend party for him’ kind of obligation. Not an ‘I’m going upgrade the whole shindig to a blowout publicity stop’ kind of obligation.”
He’d stopped, a package of gauze in his hand as he watched Callie closely.
“I’m assuming this has something to do with your college blunder,” he went on.
Callie almost laughed at the benign-sounding title he’d given her mistake.
“When I got dragged to the police station, Colin made the long drive to come bail me out. Colin was livid, and I was angry because I hadn’t even asked for his help. He just assumed and came.” Her voice dropped a notch. “And, unfortunately, the trip wound up screwing up his finals. He...” She looked away for a moment. “He almost flunked that semester.”
She took a deep breath,
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