Page 45 of Backed By You
Dad steps inside, his sharp eyes immediately taking inventory of the cabin. They zero in on Beau standing near the kitchen with his arms still crossed, looking every bit the intimidating mountain man he can be when he wants to.
“Dad, this is Beau,” I say, my voice artificially bright. “He’s my…landlord.” The word tastes sour in my mouth after what we shared last night and this morning.
Beau’s stoic expression never falters. He extends a hand to my father, his voice clipped and formal—nothing like the warm, teasing tone he used with me. “Beau Montgomery.”
Dad shakes his hand, sizing him up. “Matthew Ryan. Callie’s father.”
“Good to meet you, sir.”
The silence stretches uncomfortably. Beau’s jaw is tight, and I can practicallyfeelthe tension radiating off him. This isn’t the flirtatious, affectionate man who was promising me another round of orgasms a few minutes ago.
“Beau is, um, here to install my new stove,” I say quickly, gesturing toward the box. “The old one finally gave up.”
Dad huffs, eyeing Beau. “I see. Well, that’s convenient timing.” He continues, turning to me, “We’ll have breakfast in town while he works. Give him some space to get the job done.”
I blink. “Oh, um, I— Sure. That sounds good.” I glance at Beau out of the corner of my eye, hoping to gauge his reaction, but his expression remains unreadable. “I need to shower and get ready first,” I add.
Beau clears his throat. “Actually, I have to run a few errands this morning. I’ll be back shortly and have this put in before you get back.”
My heart sinks. It’s obviously a lie, but I can’t exactly call him out on it in front of my father. “Of course,” I manage, trying to keep the disappointment out of my voice.
Beau’s face is neutral—professional, even—as he pulls on his boots by the door. I’m painfully aware of how he avoids looking at me. The easy intimacy we shared is gone, replaced by a wall I recognize all too well.
“It was nice meeting you, Mr. Ryan,” Beau says, nodding to my father.
“Likewise.”
Beau finally looks at me, and the coolness in his eyes makes my chest ache. He reaches for the door, and I follow, desperate to say something, anything, to fix whatever just fell off course between us.
“Beau,” I start, but he’s already outside and down the porch steps.
“Enjoy your breakfast,” he says without looking back, his shoulders rigid.
I stand in the doorway, watching him hop in his truck and leave to put as much distance between us as possible.
He’s my landlord. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why couldn’t I say he’s a friend? Agoodfriend? What I should’ve said is,Dad, this is the man who saved Hulk and me. Gushed about him, maybe. Said he’s been taking care of me, sort of.
I did none of that.
Instead, I gave him the worst title anyone could be described as: Landlord.
“Callie?”
Dad’s voice snaps me back to reality. I close the door and turn around, forcing another smile. “Sorry,” I say, my voice steadier than how I feel. “I’ll just be a minute.” I need to shower, to think, to figure out how to approach Beau after this. Unfortunately, it’ll have to wait. For now, I have to deal with my father, and whatever reason he has for this unannounced visit.
“Take your time,” Dad says, settling onto the couch. Hulk follows, eager to greet the long-familiar human.
At least someone’s happy about this visit.
I walk to the bedroom, my mind racing as the door closes behind me.
How did everything go from perfect to completely screwed up in minutes?
Sixteen.
Callie
“I’lltakethelumberjackspecial,” Dad tells the waitress, his hands folded on the red checkered tablecloth. “Pancakes, eggs over easy, bacon, sausage, hash browns. The works.”
