Page 92 of Sunkissed Colorado
As we walked toward the patio doors, I wondered if I already had pit stains on my blouse. I was definitely sweating. “Fair warning,” I whispered to Callum, “my parents will have friends here tonight from the golf club.”
“Didn’t even know we had a golf club,” he whispered back.
“The one course in the county. Most of the members have a third or fourth home here in Hart County and have never heard of Hearthstone, much less tried a beer there.”
“Got it,” Callum replied, completely unfazed.
We reached the patio, and my parents were standing with two other couples dressed in far nicer clothes than you usually saw on Main Street. An actual waiter passed around a tray of appetizers like this was a swanky event at the ski resort. My parents looked polished as always, Mom in her silk blouse and pearls, Dad in his pressed slacks and golf shirt.
All conversation stopped when we walked out.
“Oh, here’s Zandra,” my mom said smoothly. “And her…friend.”
“Coworker,” I blurted.
“Callum O’Neal.” He strode over to my mom and held out his hand.
“From the brewery. Of course.” Mom barely touched his fingers. “Lovely.”
I cringed at her obvious dismissal. “Mom, Callum is the one who helped Grandpa after he fell.”
“We certainly appreciate that,” my dad chimed in. “I think Pop has mentioned you.” Dad came over to shake his hand next. Unlike my mother, he usually wasn’t overtly rude. His digs were more subtle and came later, once you dared to let your guard down and thought it was safe.
“But Zandra hasn’t mentioned you once.” Mom glanced slyly at me.
Callum laughed, and it was eerily close to the way my dad and his golf buddies sounded when they were sharing a joke. Damn. He was good. “I was on the football team in high school, and Z just tolerated my antics. But I wouldn’t have passed senior English without her.” He held out the gift. “Appreciate you having me, Mrs. Alvarez.”
Everyone leaned in, watching as Mom pulled open the ribbon and stared skeptically at the contents. “Chocolates?”
“Made here in Hart County,” Callum said.
One of the golf club wives came over to peer into the box. “Oh, Eliza, are those from Scarlett’s Sweet Shop in Hartley? Those are nearly impossible to get these days. They only make small batches.” She was giving Callum an appreciative look that I didn’t care for, but at least Mom seemed to warm up to him a few degrees.
He just shrugged. “I know a guy.”
While Mom drifted to fuss over the chocolates with her friends, Dad clapped Callum on the shoulder. “What’ll you drink? We’ve got a nice selection.”
“Anything with a respectable rating from Wine Spectator,” Callum replied seriously.
I almost choked on air, covering it with a cough.
But my father nodded. “I like you, Callum. You’re quite a surprise.”
While the others gravitated toward the bar area, I whispered to Callum, “Wine Spectator? Really?”
“I did some googling,” he said under his breath. “The chocolates are vegan and gluten-free, by the way.”
The words slipped out before I could stop them. “Oh my goodness, I love you.”
Then I replayed them.Whathad I just said?
“Good to know,” he murmured. Callum’s eyes danced with amusement, and Ifelt my face flame.
While I fumbled for something sensible to say, Dad called him over to show him the wine selections.
“Duty calls. I’ll be back.” He left me standing there, drowning in my own mortification. I was a mess of nerves. Nobody could trustanythingI said tonight. He had to know it had been a turn of phrase. A colloquialism. Right?
This was going to be a very long night.
