Page 57 of The Matchmaker
“Incredible skill,” he says, and sends another in. It goes even farther.
I grab one of my own, not to be outdone, but only manage two skips this time before it slips into the lake.
“You’re turning too much,” he says. “Here.” He tosses me another from the pile, and I’m so preoccupied with catching it that I don’t realize he’s moved closer until his hand wraps around mine. I still instantly as he opens my palm, revealing the flat stone inside.
“Hold it like this,” he says, placing my thumb on the top and my middle finger on the bottom. His index finger trails a path along my own, straightening it out to wrap against the edge, until I’m clasping it in a loose grip.
His touch is warm and rough, hinting to the callouses he’s earned from years on the job. I become hyperaware of the pleasant scrape of them as he moves me about until he’s satisfied, and then he steps behind me, not breaking his hold as his hand slips to my wrist, encircling it easily.
“Bend your knees a little,” he says, drawing my arm back. “Palm up. Elbow by your side.” He brings it forward again, almost like he’s showing me a golf swing, and I catch a hint of his scent, earthy, and warm, and oddly familiar.
“Twist at the end. Not at the beginning.”
“’Kay,” I say, only to hate myself at how high my voice sounds.
Callum doesn’t seem to notice, though, stepping away so I can do it myself, and I stare at the water, trying to remember what he told me while also what hands are and how to use them.
In the end, I give up thinking altogether, throwing the stone in, and flicking like he showed me. It skips seven times before it drops, almost matching my glorious record.
Well.
“Okay, so you’re an incredible teacher,” I say, and he cuts a bow. “They’re yours?” I add, looking back at the depleted pile of stones beside us.
“Yeah.”
“You come here a lot?”
His lips twitch at the suspicion in my voice. “I do. There’s not much else to do around here. And I got to thinking about what you said in the car. About the lake. The forest. You were right. It’s beautiful out here. I stop by nearly every day now.”
“You do?” I ask, confused. “Where do you even live?” I’d assumed he was in the city like the rest of the workers, but he just nods back to the village.
“In that farmhouse near the lavender fields.”
“Mr. Rankin’s old place?” I frown. “No one’s lived there for years.”
“Is this where you tell me it’s haunted?”
“It’s where I tell you I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“He’s letting me stay there for cheap if I do it up,” Callum explains, and I remember what he said to me in the garden the other day about renovating. “And what areyoudoing out here?” he asks before I can press for more. “Shouldn’t you be matchmaking or something?”
I open my mouth with an excuse when a crash sounds from the direction of the barn, and Callum looks behind me with interest.
“What’s over there?”
“Nothing,” I say, suddenly panicked. I don’t want Glenmill knowing anything about what we’re planning, but he’s already walking away. “Callum, wait.”
“Why? What is it?”
“It’s for the festival,” I blurt out. “And it’s top secret, so you can’t see it.”
“Top secret?”
“Yes.”
He wants to laugh. I can see it on his face, but he stops at the flustered expression on mine. “Okay,” he says, holding up his hands. “I won’t snoop. But it sounds like you’re building a rollercoaster.”
“And if that’s the rumor you want to spread, then by all means, go for it. But I’m—”
