When?
When will we finally meet?
If only those words were addressed to me. I may not know the first thing about writing a love letter. But I would know exactly how to respond to this missive.
“Yes! Now! This fucking minute! Send me your address, and I’ll be there.” Because this goddess is worth a four-hour drive. Far more than that, honestly. A warm glow simmers through my core as I gaze at Callie’s photograph.What in the hell is wrong with me?
“Time to break it off, Mateo. A woman like that would never settle for a directionless, former alcoholic Ranger like you.” I eye her, stomach roiling at the thought of calling her up and letting her down. It doesn’t feel right with her, though I can’t articulate why.
The doorbell sounds, startling me out of my solitary reflections. Standing and sauntering that way, still holding the notebook, I stash it among Mack’s journals, uncertain who might be visiting. I open the door, staring down at the single most beautiful sight of my entire life. The kind that steals my breath and sends aching shockwaves through my chest.
Calliope Marchard.
In the flesh. From her glossy, long, straight black hair to her warm brown skin, snapping mahogany eyes, and excruciatingly thick, juicy lips, the woman looks good enough to eat. And by the way her simmering gaze meets mine, I’m not the only one who feels this way.
Chapter
Four
CALLIE
Mack towers above me at a ridiculous height, scowling and rugged, a thick beard hiding the lower half of his angular face and a cowboy hat atop his head.
A cowboy hat?I wasn’t expecting this from my burly, redheaded mountain man.
“Mack?” I ask breathlessly.
The man eyes me morosely. I strain to read his expression. A tumult of emotions pulses beneath the surface. But what they mean, I have no clue.
A deluded part of me expects him to exclaim, “Callie!”
Instead, he sets his mouth at a somber angle. “You’ve done your hair differently.” His voice has a slight Latino accent.
“Do you like it?”
He nods.
I thought I was his breath, his sunshine, his very soul. But this man looks apprehensive … as if he doesn’t want to see me.
My eyes dart past him into the living room. Another unfaithful man, maybe? Some women are into serial monogamy, but I’ve managed the excruciatingly painful art of attracting serial cheaters.
“Callie.” He grunts out the name like a caveman, unceremoniously turning on his heels and walking away. I wait for a sweeping gesture of the hand, a nod of his head, something that indicates he wants me to come inside.
Nothing.
Instead, he paces back and forth, grumbling, “If ever there was a time I wanted a stiff drink, it’s right now.”
I knit my brows, standing in the doorway as my heart shatters into a million pieces. I played out countless scenarios for how today would go.Thiswas not one of them.
“So, that’s it?” I ask, stepping into the room, anger seizing me. “Months of love letters? Countless promises? And this is the reception I get?”
He crosses his thick, corded arms over his barrel chest, and my throat tightens. I may be pissed as hell at Mack’s reaction, but I can’t deny how gorgeous he is. Animal magnetism pours from him, singeing the air and crackling the space between us.Doesn’t he feel it, too?
“You deserve better,” he says flatly.
I wait, but nothing follows. No explanation. No apology, no questions about what I’m doing here.
My voice trembles as I recite from memory, “I taste you in my dreams. Sunshine and the sweet warmth of summer rain. Your fragrance invades my senses, seducing and alluring me, making it impossible to think. Callie, in a word, I’m OBSESSED …And yet all you have to say with me here in person is that I can do better? What the fuck?”
