Page 87 of Callan

Again, his words have the zing of truth.

“The woman that you’re seeing…” I go on as he takes his foot off the gas, and the car rolls to a stop by the sidewalk.

“I’m not seeing her,” he says, throwing his car in park and moving his eyes to me.

“You were invited to her party.”

He nods a couple of times, displeased with where our conversation is going.

“It’s a long story, but I’m not seeing her.”

“She’s friends with those men.”

“I know that.”

“So she’s not to be trusted.”

A soft smile blossoms on his lips.

“I know that too.”

His eyes narrow, centered on my lips.

“You liked the kiss?” he changes the topic, and my cheeks burn with a blush.

“I thought it was a ploy to distract those men,” I say seriously.

He tilts his head to the side and studies my face with a smile in his eyes before wagging his finger at me.

“Nice try, Mackenzie.”

I fail to suppress a smile.

“Don’t get any ideas,” I say, struggling to keep my face straight.

He laughs knowingly, perfectly aware of my predicament.

I’m in such a big shit right now since it’s not wise to get smitten with how he kisses or looks at me.

There is no good reason to want more from him.

I can imagine how painful it is to have him and then lose him.

So, no.

I’m not entertaining the idea of him.

But his eyes say yes, though.Yes to kissing again.And maybe more.

Whispering moves catch the corner of my eye as snowflakes the size of my fist float in the air, circling the lampposts.

The wind blows kisses at us, and thedisplay of white and silver feels like a celebration as we hope to find a sanctuary amongst the immaculate ghosts of the park.

His eyes are still on me, simmering slowly like burning stars.

Mine float to him, timid and intrigued.

His smile comes with a sweet, frivolous warning filled with excitement.

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