‘Yes.’
Her eyes dimmed, and suddenly he put together all the bits and pieces that she’d told him throughout the day. Her house, the almost-tears when she’d spoken about her mother, and now the past tense with her father. And just as quickly he realised he’d pressed her when he shouldn’t have.
‘Callie, I’m so sorry.’
‘DON’T WORRY ABOUT IT.’
Callie cleared her throat and smiled when Bianca led them to a table in the corner. She knew the woman had probably squeezed it in herself, and she thanked her and rolled her eyes at the wink Bianca sent her after looking at Blake.
Callie busied herself with looking at the menu, and though she could feel him staring at her eventually Blake did the same. She sighed in relief, knowing that she didn’t want to talk about her parents’ deaths with him. She just wanted to have dinner and go home, where she would be safe from the feelings that stirred through her when she was with him.
‘Their burgers are really good. And of course you should have one with a milkshake.’
She spoke because she didn’t want to revert to their previous topic of conversation.
‘Sounds good,’ he said, and placed his menu down. And then he asked exactly what she’d tried to prevent. ‘When did you lose your parents?’
She didn’t want to talk about this, she thought, and shut her eyes. But when she opened them again his own were filled with compassion and sincerity. So she gave him a brief answer. ‘Almost a decade ago now.’
He nodded, and was silent for a bit. ‘My mom left when I was eleven. It’s not the same thing, of course, but I think I may understand a little of what you feel.’
She stared at him—not because his mom had left, but because he’d shared the fact with her. It made her feel—comforted. That was terrible, she thought, but then he smiled at her, and she realised that comforting her had been his intention. She found herself smiling back before she averted her eyes.
How did he do that? And in this place that was so personal to her? She’d brought him here out of instinct, because she’d honestly had no idea what else to do. He’d put her on the spot and the only place she’d been able to think of was the one her friend owned—the one she had so often come to with her father in the year before his death.
She tried to pop in as often as possible, even just to grab one of the chocolate croissants that Sakari was known for. Maybe it was because she didn’t want to lose the connection she’d had with her father. But it had taken a long time after his death for her to realise that.
‘I know this isn’t what you’re used to.’ She changed the subject to a safer topic. ‘I mean, it isn’t a five-star restaurant or anything, but it is highly rated.’
He laughed. ‘It isn’t what I’m used to—but not because I’m a snob, which you seem to be implying.’
She blushed, because maybe he was right.
‘I just don’t have time to find places like this. I usually eat at the hotel, or go out to dinner for business.’
‘Do you enjoy it?’
‘My job?’
She smiled, and wondered if he knew how cute he looked when he was confused. ‘No—being so busy.’
He didn’t respond immediately, and when the waiter came to take their order he still hadn’t said anything. She didn’t press, because somehow she knew he was formulating his answer.
‘It works for me.’ He shrugged. ‘Keeping busy means I don’t have to think about the problems in my personal life.’
She hadn’t expected such a candid answer, but she took the opportunity to say, ‘Your family?’
He nodded, though he didn’t look at her. ‘Partly, yes. And some other things.’
Callie suddenly remembered what he’d said about dating, and how he had told her without words that a woman had made him cynical about it. As much as she wanted to know, she didn’t ask. She didn’t want to tell him about how her parents had died, or how she’d fallen apart when they had. And clearly there were things that he didn’t want to speak to her about either. And that was fair. Though a part of her hoped that it would change.
‘Well, I hope that one day, when this mess is all over, you’ll take a day to relax.’
‘Relax?’
‘Yes, it’s this thing us normal people do—usually in the evenings or over weekends—when we try to put aside thoughts of business and enjoy the moment.’
He leaned back in his seat and grinned. ‘Never heard of it.’
She laughed. ‘I could show you some time. It’s pretty easy.’
‘I’d like that.’
He spoke softly, and suddenly the noise in the restaurant faded to the background as she held his gaze. Thoughts of the two of them spending evenings together, weekends, made her heart pound. And yearn.
He lifted a hand and laid it over hers, and suddenly the sweetness of her thoughts turned to fire. She wanted to lean over, kiss him. She wanted to know what it would be like to feel his lips on hers, his hands on her body. His hand tightened on hers and she wondered if he knew her thoughts. The way his eyes heated as he looked at her made her think he did, and she leaned forward—just a bit. If this was going to happen, then she didn’t want him only to be a spectator.
And then the waiter brought their milkshakes, told them their burgers were about ten minutes away, and the spell was broken. Immediately Callie pulled her hand from under his and placed it in her lap, where it couldn’t do anything ridiculous like brush his shampoo ad hair out of his face. She drank from her chocolate milkshake, and wished she’d ordered something that would actually help quench her suddenly parched throat.
‘Do you ever bring Connor here?’
She looked up, saw the apology in his eyes—or was it regret?—and nodded in gratitude.
‘Sure. If we do supper we either do it here, or somewhere close to the hotel. It depends on whether we’re working or just meeting up.’
They continued their conversation, steering clear of any topics that might reveal anything personal about each other. And, though she longed to know more, she didn’t ask about his family, or the mysterious woman in his past. She didn’t think he spoke of it very much, regardless, and she didn’t want to be the one he did it with. She ignored her thoughts that screamed the contrary, and instead focused on eating her food.
At the end of their meal, he offered to take her home.
‘No, thanks. I’ll just get a taxi.’
‘That’s silly. It isn’t that far, and it’s unnecessary for you to pay—’
