Page 185 of Callan

“Wherever you think it’s best.”

He moves his focus to them.

“You can set the table over here,” he says.

“I don’t want to eat that far from you,” I comment, envisioning ourselves at the opposite ends of the long table.

“No problem,” he says, smiling before giving them new directions.

They set the table while Callan answers his phone. He excuses himself before taking the call.

“I’ll be right with you,” he says to me, his hand cupping his phone.

“Sure. I’m in the bedroom,” I reply and make myself scarce.

He’s quite busy at this time of night, and I should be, too. Now that Kayla is still in town, I should check with her.

I stroll into the bedroom, reach inside my bag, and take my phone out when I realize my battery died.

“Shit,” I murmur.

I forgot to charge it.

With so much going on, am I surprised?No, I’m not.

I tuck my phone back into my bag and walk back to the terrace. It’s cold and beautiful, which makes me think this is the last spot I thought I’d be tonight.

Paced footsteps inch closer, and an arm wraps around my shoulders while warm lips leave a kiss on the top of my head.

“How do you like it?” he asks quietly and casually as if asking about how I like my coffee in the morning.

“It’s astonishing. I used to work not far from here, but I could never imagine that these beautiful houses were so spacious inside.”

My answer carries a whiff of naïveté, to which he smiles in response.

“What?” I say, grinning. “You think I’m so easily impressionable?”

“Aren’t you?” he jokes.

“I’m not. Usually…” I add with humor. “Seriously now. Is this truly your place?”

“Yes,” he says simply.

My eyes search his.

“It doesn’t seem like you’re spending a lot of time here,” I comment.

“What makes you say that?”

I softly shrug a shoulder.

“I don’t see you living here. It’s spooky.”

He laughs.

“Spooky?”

“Yeah.”

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