Page 51 of The Matchmaker
“Sorry.” I plant a hand into the ground to push myself up, only for it to slide deeper into the mud instead. “Fairy ring.”
“What?”
I point a few feet ahead to where a ring of mushrooms peeks out among the fallen leaves. I forgot it was there until I saw Callum almost go straight through it.
“Oh.” He sounds more surprised than annoyed. “They take you or something, don’t they? If you step in it?”
“And force you to dance until you perish from exhaustion.”
“Well, joke’s on them; I’m a terrible dancer.” He eases himself into a sitting position, brushing mud from his hands. “Didn’t think you’d be the kind of person who’d believe in that stuff.”
I shrug as Gemma’s words spring to mind. No one believes it. But they don’tnotbelieve in it either. “Granny kind of drilled it into me when I was younger.”
“Better safe than sorry,” he agrees. “But we should probably find your…or, you know, never mind.”
Plankton appears through the trees and pads our way, his tail wagging as though nothing’s amiss. Relief instantly shoots through me, almost overwhelming, and I hold out my arms.
“You can’t keep doing that,” I tell him, burying my face into his neck. I can feel Callum watching me, but I don’t care. Plankton wriggles in my hold to lick the side of my face, and I scratch him behind the ears until he’s leaning into my touch. Dumb dog. Dumb perfect dog.
“You’re in so much trouble,” I tell him, but we both know I don’t mean it. Callum smiles as Plankton turns toward him and holds out a hand for him to sniff.
“About earlier,” he begins, and I still, knowing exactly what he’s referring to.
“So, we’re actually never talking about that ever again?” I tell him. “That’s the rule of seeing someone naked when you weren’t supposed to.”
He grimaces. “I don’t like listening to music unless I’m severely damaging my eardrums. I swear I didn’t hear you come in.”
“It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I’m sorry.”
He sounds very serious. Serious enough that the lingering embarrassment I still felt starts to fade.
“It’s fine,” I sniff. “You just have to return the favor now.”
His eyes shoot to mine, and I quickly backpedal at the spark in them. “I’m joking.”
“I know,” he says. “I like it.”
Oh, God.
I grab Plankton’s collar, making a show of holding on to him as I get to my feet. “I need to get back to Granny,” I say, turning back to the road. “The good news is I was going to do laundry anyway. Though I guess I should—”
“Can I ask you for a favor?”
I glance back at him, brows raised. “No.”
He looks surprised. “No?”
“No,” I repeat. “No, you cannot ask me for a favor. You work for the enemy.”
“Well, see, that’s where the favor comes in,” he says. “I’m not my boss. I’m not in charge. And I’d like you not to look at me like I’m running the show here. Like this is all my doing. Because it’s not and you know it’s not, and it would be great if you stopped treating me like it is.”
“I don’t…” I trail off as he gives me a look. I guess the man has a point. It’s the exact kind of thing I used to pester Nush about. When she treated every guy on traffic light duty like they were to blame for what was happening. I know Callum’s not. I just needed an outlet. “What?” I ask. “You want a truce or something?”
“A truce sounds good.”
It was a joke, but he’s still deadly serious, sticking out his hand like we’re doing a business deal. I make a face.
