Page 62 of One Small Spark
I freeze as the sassy smile falls off my face. Staring at the food on the table and not the man standing at my side, I’m tempted to toss the blanket I’ve got rolled under one arm straight over my head. Just pretend I’m an overstimulated bird and avoid looking at him for the rest of the night.
He tilts his head closer to mine. Why does he have to smell like a forest right now? “No wife or girlfriend, in my cabin or otherwise.”
The remaining ladies around the island giggle, shooting us obvious looks and bobbing their eyebrows. Between their flirty pushing and my stupid mouth, we’ve already conspired to make the evening into a steaming bowl of awkward soup. Teamwork makes the dream work.
“Nobody’s surprised you’re single, Callahan.” I’m reaching for my classic snark, but to my horror, I soundhappyabout this information. And the way he’s smiling down at me, he heard it, too.
“I’d be willing to change that, Krause.”
I swallow hard, my poor brain completely blank. It’s all fun and games until somebody’s making heart eyes in the middle of romance book group.
“Are you two joining us? If we don’t start the movie soon, half of us will be asleep before the credits roll.”
Turning to Ada, I try to snap out of my brain fog. “Yup. We’re ready.”
I follow her down the hall, refusing to look back to see if Callahan’s behind me. Obviously, he is. No need to check.
But I peek anyway, catching him trailing me with a plate oftreats in one hand and a glass of water in the other. The amused tilt to his mouth confirms I shouldn’t have looked back.
We reach the movie room, and Holy Batcave, my guy. It’s a mini movie theater with four risers, each with a full-size leather sofa on it that has small tables for snacks and drinks at either end. As I watch, Nora fully reclines her seat. The projection screen takes up one massive wall. Mr. Darcy will be taller than me on this.
A quick glance at the sofas confirms that not only did the ladies give Callahan and me no other option than to sit together, but we’re in the back row. They might as well have tacked a sign over the sofa that says, “Now kiss.”
It’s terrible that I’m considering it, right?
I put my snacks on the side table and arrange my throw blanket over my legs. I sink into the cushions, snug and comfortable despite the chilly temperature in here. The cozy couch reminds me just how long it’s been since I really relaxed today. When Ada dims the lights, I can’t hold back my ear-popping yawn.
“Are you going to make it through the movie?” Callahan asks.
“Possibly. I’ve been up since five.”
I don’t usually go out on days I open at the bakery, but I made an exception for tonight. No need to question why, thank you.
He leans closer. “Feel free to fall asleep on me if you need to.”
It’s pretty dark in here, but I can hear the smirk in his voice. No way will I admit just how nice snuggling up to him sounds right now. Best if I avoid temptation altogether. I lay out in the opposite direction, resting my head on the plush armrest and tucking my legs up, pressing my feet against his thigh. “Thanks.”
It’s wrong of me to admire how firm his thigh is, yes?
He chuckles, taking my socked feet into his lap as thePride and Prejudiceintro music starts over the rising sun on the screen. He lays one warm hand on my toes, the other on my exposed calves. This…is objectively worse than simply sitting side by side through a romantic movie. Do my feet stink? Maybe they’re shaped funny, and I never knew. Ada said it’s a shoes-off house, and I had no problem going along, but now I realize I should have stayed as fully dressed as possible.
Callahan’s eyes stay on the movie, but he traces the image on my socks with his thumb. It’s a green trash bin with flames coming out of the top,Everything is fineprinted above. I don’t pay attention to Mrs. Bennett’s grand plans for Mr. Bingley for even a moment. I’m too busy furtively watching Callahan.
When he starts rubbing my feet, I simply perish.
Maybe worse, I make an embarrassing sound as he kneads into my arch. Apparently, I’m a mush for physical touch. Or…ugh…maybe I’m just mush for Callahan.
“Okay?” he asks softly, his fingers gently pressing into the soles of my feet. Instead of watching the movie, now he’s focused on me, his face glowing gold in the dim light.
This is my chance. I can tell him to knock it off. Say I was trying to shove him away, not offer an invitation. Pull my feet back onto my side of the sofa and remove the temptation entirely.
Instead, I nod, mumble, “Mm-hmm,” and burrow deeper into my blanket.
I’m in danger.
EIGHTEEN
SHEPHERD
