Page 35 of Here & There

“Shelby,” Mac says, his voice suddenly even huskier than normal.

I swallow hard, unable to tear my eyes away. It’s like I’m suddenly bare. Like he’s seen the most vulnerable part of me and is telling me in a single look thatI’m still okay.

“Yeah?”

That’s exactly what happened, I realize. Mac saw me at my worst, and not only has he not run away, but he’s looking out for me.

Mac’s jaw tenses. “I wanted you?—”

A bang sounds from somewhere in the house, and Tink starts barking. It fractures the moment.

I take a step back, grip the wooden railing, and look out over the ocean to try to regain my equilibrium. I’m still grappling with the way that look made me feel. I want to ask him what he was going to say to me, but a male voice streams out the open door. “Hey, girl. Where’s your big daddy, huh? Where’s that big hunk of man?”

I turn to Mac, confused.

His expression tightens, his eyes rolling up like he needs strength. But there’s relief there too. “Cal.”

“Mac? You home?” the voice calls.

“Out here,” Mac booms.

“Who’s Cal?” I ask.

“Unfortunately, you’re about to find out. There’s no avoiding him.”

A moment later, another man strolls out on the deck.

I have to fight to keep my eyes from widening, because suddenly there are two devastatingly handsome men in front of me.

What the hell is in the water in this town?

The new one couldn’t be more different from Mac, though. First of all, he’s like a ray of sunshine. Second, he looks very little like Mac, with his cropped brown hair and clean-shaven face. He’s also a couple of inches shorter than Mac and kind of lithe, like a surfer or swimmer. But he’s still an easy six feet tall with a grin that would make Deanie faint on the spot.

“Oh, shit. Hey,” he says with an easy grin and raised eyebrow. He thrusts out a hand at me. “Calvin. Mac’s BFF.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Shelby. Mac’s new houseguest. And consultant. And I thought only teenage girls said BFF.”

Cal blinks, then throws his head back and laughs.

The most striking difference between the two men, I see now, is Cal’s open expression and easy smile. Where Mac is a stoic vault, this man looks like an open book.

“I share a lot of traits with teenage girls, actually,” Cal says. “I loveGossip Galand theGilrod Girls.”

If I’d been drinking a beverage, I’d have spat it out.

“That’s what they’re into, right?” Cal asks. “I don’t actually know any.”

Mac frowns. “Who the hell are theGilrod Girls?”

Cal grimaces. “I have no idea.”

“It’s bestie now, I think,” I say, barely able to breathe. I don’t bother trying to explain that the TV shows are about twenty years too old for current teenagers.

“Huh?” Cal asks.

“BFF, loser,” Mac says. “No one says that anymore.”

“You sound like my high school bully,” Cal says. “Wait a minute, youweremy high school bully.”

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