Page 93 of Score on You

“I was thinking we could get out of town for a while.”

“For a date?”

My shrug is feigned nonchalance. “Or two. Probably three. We’ll make it an extended stay somewhere… romantic.”

Callie gasps. “Like a vacation?”

“Yeah, sweetness. I’m gonna whisk you away.”

Callie gawks at our home for the next three days and two nights. “You rented a… mansion for us?”

I shift the truck into park and cut the engine. “Not quite. My buddy owns this place. He’s on the road and offered to let us stay for the weekend.”

Her lips replicate a tiny circle. “That’s very nice of him.”

“He owed me one.”

“Well, I’ll happily help you reap the reward. What’re we waiting for?” She gathers the pile of pictures taken along the trip and tucks them in her purse. The camera remains clutched in her grasp, ready to capture more memories.

“Before we go inside”—I pop the latch on the center console and snag the three envelopes stashed there—“choose one.”

Callie studies the fanned-out formation I’m holding for her picking. “What are these?”

“A selection process. We’ll do them all but you decide the order.” I shake the options.

“Ooooh, I like this game.” She plucks the middle choice from my grip and rips open the tab. “Dinner and a massage.”

“Solid start, sweetness. The fridge is stocked with your favorites. I’ll be the chef.”

She falters. “You’re going to prepare dinner?”

“Don’t look so shocked. It won’t be the first time,” I chuckle. “But don’t give me too much credit either. The prep is mostly done.”

“Does that still count as cooking?”

“You tell me.”

“I think you’re getting off easy,” she giggles.

“That remains to be seen.”

Her eyes narrow. “Are you talking about sex?”

My dick jerks on command. “When it involves you? Always.”

“Allow me to repeat myself,” she whispers. “What’re we waiting for?”

“Trust me, it’s in the best interest of both of us.” I lean over to give her a kiss. “Get your sexy ass in there while I grab the bags.”

Her happiness grins against my lips. “Yes, boyfriend.”

But Callie hasn’t made it beyond the foyer when I arrive with our stuff. Her wide stare swings in every direction. I stand beside her to appraise the interior that’s more than likely professionally decorated.

To our left is a sitting area that has more couches than a hotel lobby. The paintings are probably originals to further boast about Luke’s wealth. On the right, there’s a long hallway that leads who knows where. A grand staircase promises more riches to behold on the second level. The vaulted ceilings trail to the polished floor. Straight ahead is an entire wall made of glass, providing a panoramic view of the rural property.

It’s too damn fancy for my style, which is why I barely notice the features. My gaze rarely strays from Calliope Rose.

She spins in a slow circle while admiring the crystal chandelier. “I can’t believe someone lives here.”

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