Page 57 of Let Me Be the One
Appearing happy to do so, she got out her phone and opened up her contact list. “Go.”
He recited his number, and then Kam’s. “Make sure Glory has both numbers, too.” When it came to Dirk and Lang, they weren’t above using either woman to get to him. Or just to take what they wanted. It was how they’d always operated, for as long as Tanner could remember.
“I’ll share with Glory.” She touched his hand. “Do you want mine?”
If he had it, it’d be so tempting to call her, even when he knew he shouldn’t. She was a city girl with a city job, and probably a city fiancé just waiting for his chance to lure her back.
It was that last thought that rankled the most. He needed her to go, but not like that. Not to the dick who’d hurt her.
He got out his phone. “Ready.”
When that was done, they each finished off another cookie before Callie got up to put things away. She covered the cookies and stored them in the microwave to keep them fresh, saying with a grin that she hadn’t yet bought a cookie jar, but she would.
Because to her, she thought this place was her new home. A place for nesting—cookie jars and all.
He knew better. Much as she appeared to be settling in, she wouldn’t stay. He couldn’t let himself believe that. Not only would it throw off all his plans, it’d make him think… No, he wouldn’t go there, not even in his thoughts.
“I promise to return Addie’s plate tomorrow.”
Seemed every day she or Addie found an excuse to be together. From Addie’s perspective, he got it. Having another woman so close was nice for her. What was Callie’s angle? Sure, Addie had a way of winning over everyone she met, even princesses from the rich side of town who’d long ago moved on. Would that be enough for her? Did Callie enjoy Addie’s brand of motherly nurturing?
Far as he knew, she’d always had the best of everything. Well, except fiancés. Her fiancé had apparently sucked big-time. And maybe her parents weren’t so great if they still expected her to marry the guy. Even her cousin, who Callie clearly loved, had hassled her over this Sutter jerk.
Other than that though, Callie had scored big in life.
Even to himself, that reasoning sounded absurd. How sweet could her life have been surrounded by people who didn’t prioritize her emotional well-being?
Tanner almost snorted. For most of the troubled kids he knew, Callie’s wealth and privilege would be a huge boost. They needed love and attention, definitely, but they also needed clothes, good food, and the occasional gift.
A beautiful woman like Callie would have no problem finding a guy—hell, twenty guys—who’d give her all the love and attention she could bear.
So for her, what was the lure of small-town living?
“You’ve gone awfully quiet, Tanner. It’s like I can feel you stewing.” She cast him a flirty glance over her shoulder. “Or dissecting my character.”
Watching her bustle around the kitchen sent tension spiraling through him. “Just noticing that you move with the practiced ease of someone who grew up wiping crumbs off a table and washing coffee mugs to stack in a drainer.”
Laughing, she said, “Thank you. I try,” as if he’d given her a huge compliment.
Shaking his head, Tanner accepted that she worked in her yard the same way, and when she fed the animals, she looked… Happy. Content.
Like she belonged here and nowhere else.
That wouldn’t last.It wouldn’t. But his tension mounted until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.
“Take a picture,” she quipped while hanging the dish towel just so, as if it mattered. “It’ll last longer.”
That last taunt proved his undoing. Tanner rose silently from his seat, then came up behind her to loop his arms around her waist and drag her into close contact with his body. Definitely, that helped. He filled his starving lungs with a deep breath, filling his head with Callie’s unique scent. “Haveyou worked in a kitchen before?”
Her laugh was pure delight without a hint of affront. “I’ve had my own condos and apartments—without staff, so yes. Heck, when we lived here, Mom and Dad were just making their mark in the world. We had cleaning people who came twice a week—”
“And landscapers, painters, designers, pool maintenance, accountants… Your family employed half the town.”
“True, but my daily chores included making my own bed, putting away my own laundry, and sometimes helping in the kitchen, since we often had dinner at home.”
“You poor child,” he whispered with clear irony.
“Stop it,” she said around a light laugh. “I know I was pampered. Don’t rub it in.”
