What the hell was she doing? Had she lost her damn mind? Well, she had to have, because normal people didn’t show up to the house of a man they barely knew, bag packed, ready to drive to a family wedding. It just didn’t happen.
Christ, she needed her head examined.
She glanced up at his home from inside her car, across the street. How long had she been sitting here? Five minutes? Ten? She needed to go in. But that would make this insane situation real.
She’d been waiting for Callum to call and tell her he’d changed his mind. That he wasn’t really going through with this. She’d never looked at her phone so much in her life. But nope, that call never came. Oh, he’d texted…to ask how she was doing. How work had been. What color suit he should wear.
More damn ticks to his name when she thought he’d already reached maximum capacity for perfectness.
Okay. Just do it, Fiona. Go inside.
With a quick, sharp breath, she climbed out of the car. She couldn’t stop the fast glance in either direction. She’d been doing that a lot lately. Glances over her shoulder. Checking and double-checking the locks on her home. She wasn’t usually a paranoid person…but strange things had been happening.
More sounds in her home. The feeling like someone was watching her.
The other day, she’d opened her drawer of T-shirts to find things looked like they’d been shifted around. Which was crazy, right? Apart from that day her French door was left ajar, her home was completely locked up.
She crossed the road, keys so firmly in her grasp they pressed painfully into her skin.
Her clothes looking messed with wasn’t the only odd occurrence. This morning, she’d searched and searched for her favorite red sweatshirt but couldn’t find it.
She was going crazy. Losing her goddamn mind. She must have taken the sweatshirt to work or just left it somewhere. Either that or it was under her bed or something, because things didn’t just up and disappear by themselves.
And then there were the text messages…
Yeah, she’d received more, each more vile and threatening than the last. Calling her a slut and a whore, and warning her to stay away from what wasn’t hers. She just needed to block the number and be done with it. Her name was never mentioned, so for all she knew, the texts were being sent to the wrong number.
With a quick shake of her head, she stopped in front of Callum’s door. She couldn’t think about any of that this weekend. She had a wedding to get through and a relationship to fake. That was going to take every ounce of her energy.
She lifted her hand to knock, but before her knuckles hit wood, the door opened—and her mouth went dry.
Holy hotness.
Callum stood in front of her, shirtless, sweat dripping from his body. Not only that, but his large muscles glistened, veins prominent under his olive skin like he’d just finished fighting lions in some arena.
“Hey,” he said, his deep, raspy voice causing her belly to do a little heated jingle. “I was wondering if you were ever going to knock.”
She opened and closed her mouth three times, trying to recall a couple words of the English language. It took five seconds. Five. Freaking. Seconds. “What are you doing?”
One side of his mouth lifted, showing a perfect dimple. “Opening the door.”
So he was a funny man too. “Yes, but why are you shirtless and looking like…well…all big and sweaty?”
Okay. Not the most elegant wording, and he was always big. But shirtless and sweaty? Was the man trying to kill her?
“I was working out. I stopped a few minutes ago when I heard you pull up out front.”
Oh, man. So he knew about her delay tactics. He didn’t know she’d been tempted to keep on driving and forget this crazy little deal. Or maybe he’d figured that out. Wouldn’t take much to connect the dots. Had he seen her jam her keys back into the ignition, fully prepared to run?
She cleared her throat. “You don’t look very ready to go.”
Understatement of the century.
“I’m all packed, just need a shower. I won’t take long. Come in.” He moved back, giving her room to enter. His biceps rippled with the motion, and she had to physically restrain herself from gawking at him like a desperate teenager.
What had she signed up for?
Carefully, she stepped past him, making sure to avoid any accidental touches. Even the smallest graze would probably turn her into a floundering mess. Or maybe she already was?
Not touching him was harder than it should have been. Not so much because there wasn’t enough space, but because her hands twitched to reach him. Feel his heat, slide her fingers against his wet chest.
Get a grip, woman, she scolded herself.
Her gaze caught on the expansive staircase beyond the foyer. Then the large open living and dining area to the right, which led to a huge, modern kitchen. So the man wasn’t just tall, funny and sexy, but he also had money.
Good one, God. You’re really going out of your way to torment me now.
“You live here by yourself?” she asked.
“I do.” The soft thud of the door closing echoed behind her. “I know. It’s a lot of house.”
“Well, you’re a lot of man.” The words fell from her lips before she could suck them in, and they fell like little explosions, detonating around her. She winced. “Oh God, I’m sorry.”
He laughed. “Don’t apologize, Fi. I like you uncensored.” He leaned his head toward her, and this time when he spoke, his warm breath brushed her cheek. “And you’re right, I am a lot of man.”
A shudder raced down her spine. When he brushed past her, he touched her hip, causing her skin to just about break out in hives.
He crossed to his coffee machine on the kitchen counter, and she could only watch as a shirtless, glistening Callum made coffee in his glorious kitchen. It kind of felt like a dream. One of those types you didn’t want to wake up from, because a god of a man was waiting on you in a mansion.
Only, it shouldn’t feel like a dream. She’d promised herself she would not fall for Callum. They were friends…kind of. And they could never be more because she said so.
“What are you thinking so hard about over there?”
She jolted. “Just that I should offer to help with that coffee.”
He gave her a knowing smile, which lit humor in his beautiful eyes. He knew she was lying.
When he handed her one of the mugs, their fingers grazed, and she had to hold in the gasp that tried to zip into her chest.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice quieter than it should have been.
“You’re welcome. Make yourself at home. I’m just going to jump into the shower, then I’ll be ready to go.”
Sweet baby Jesus, now she had to listen to running water while knowing he was naked in the shower. Great. “Okay.”
He moved out of the room, looking all power and strength as he went.
How would that power feel in—
Stop it, Fiona.
He’d just hit the staircase when he swung a look over his shoulder. The side of his mouth kicked up, like he knew exactly what she was thinking about. Then he kept moving.
Where was that hole she could bury her head in?
She exhaled loudly and took a sip of her coffee, humming in appreciation. What the actual heck? His coffee tasted good too?
One bad thing. That’s all I’m asking from you, universe. Something she could latch onto and use to remind herself she didn’t want to date Callum.
She spent the next fifteen minutes moving around his living room, covertly checking it out. Everything was neat and tidy. There were no old coffee mugs on the coffee table. No dirty dishes in the sink. It was as far from the bachelor pad she’d expected as possible.
It had masculine touches—the brown leather couch that was devoid of throw pillows, the PlayStation beside the TV—but it was still so neat.
She’d just stepped into the open office to the left side of the foyer and was eyeing the masculine art on the walls when the doorbell rang.
Her gaze shot to the entrance, her brows pulling together. She remained still, not wanting to answer a door to a house that wasn’t hers. But then a knock came. A firm one. Maybe it was the mailman with a delivery?
Quickly, she set her empty mug onto the desk and moved to the door. Her eyes widened when she pulled it open.
Not a mailman. A woman who looked to be in her mid-thirties, wearing the tightest jeans Fiona had ever seen, and Christ, were the woman’s legs nice. She wore a top so cropped that her belly button ring was on full display, as was her cleavage at the top. Then there was her hair…gorgeous long brown hair, contrasted by piercing blue eyes.
Beautiful. She was beautiful. And hot.
The woman’s brows slashed together. “What are you doing here?”
Well, there was a mark against her. That wasn’t exactly a friendly hello. “I’m Fiona Lo—”
“I know who you are. I’ve seen you at the library. What are you doing here?”
The woman knew her? Fiona had never seen this lady in her life, and she was pretty sure she’d remember. And what the heck was with the attitude?
The woman’s gaze moved behind Fiona, zeroing in on Callum’s suitcase. Her eyes narrowed, her back straightening. “Is that yours? Are you staying here?”
Who the hell was this woman? “That’s none of your business.”
At. All.
Another narrowing of her eyes. Yeah, narrow them all you want, woman. I said what I said.
Before she could respond, footsteps sounded on the stairs behind her. Then Callum’s heat permeated her back. “Hey, Kasey. Everything okay?”
The woman clearly wasn’t okay, but she scrambled for a smile. “Callum! I thought I’d just drop by and see if you wanted to grab something to eat?”
And there it was. The thing she’d asked the universe for. The reminder that this man was not safe to fall for because he had women like this vying for him. And honestly, who would be able to say no to a woman who looked like this Kasey?
As if he heard her thoughts, a warm hand touched her back, and she had to fight to keep the touch from heating her cheeks. From seeping below the surface of her shirt and skin and finding every part of her that yearned for more.
“Sorry, Kasey. I’m going away for a few days. I’ll see you when I get back.”
Her eyes pinched, but to her credit, her smile didn’t falter. “Okay. Well, you know where to find me when you get back…just next door.”
Ding, ding, ding. There was the second thing. Callum not only had a sexy, beautiful woman vying for his attention…she lived right next door!
Kasey gave them one more tight smile before turning and walking away, her perfect ass swaying as she went.
Callum closed the door. “Ready to go?”
“Yep.” One tight word. She couldn’t even muster a smile.
She shouldn’t be angry. Callum had done nothing wrong, and if anything had happened between him and Kasey, or was going to happen in the future, that was none of her business. She was nothing to him. Barely a friend. He was just doing her a favor. A massive, will-probably-never-be-able-to-repay-him favor.
Callum watched her for a beat longer, the intensity in his eyes boring into her, before giving a little nod and squeezing her arm. “Great. Let’s hit the road.”
