Page 25 of What Hurts Us

“...Then she said that he threw you over his shoulder like a ragdoll, spanked your behind, grabbedmoving boxesout of your car, and hauled you and the rest of your things into the house. Said she could hear you two making love before the door even closed. True story.”

I guffawed. “That isnotwhat happened.”

Cal snickered under his breath, grabbed the rest of my bags, and lumbered back inside. I paused for a moment, assessing his gait. He really should have been taking it easy. Not moving me into his house.

“Of course, that’s not whatactuallyhappened,” AB chirped. “I wanna know what shred of truth is in the haystack of senile bullshit. I swear. Most of these Creekers shouldn’t have driver’s licenses. They’re a menace to society.”

“Agreed,” I grumbled as I locked my car and carried my haul inside.

“So,” she said impatiently. “Are you and Cal Fletcher a thing? When the hell did that happen, and how the hell have you not told a damn soul about it? If I had that hunk of man meat available to me, I’d lock him in my bedroom and use his own handcuffs to keep him from getting away.”

Callum jogged down the stairs, looking spry and energized, then paused and mouthed, “What the ever-loving fuck?”

I stalled in the doorway. “We are…” I looked at him. “Together?”

Callum gave me awhat the fucksneer.

Ah, crap.I was terrible at this.

I could hear tones dropping at the base on the other end of the call.Saved by the bell.“Gotta fly,” AB clipped as she hustled through the base. “Don’t think you’re getting away with keeping secrets, Dubs. Catch you next shift.”

“Stay safe,” I said, hanging up.

Callum stood in front of me, blocking my path into the house with his feet braced shoulder width apart and his hands resting on narrow hips. He wore black jeans with a slight tear on the knee, black motorcycle boots, and a simple gray t-shirt. Nothing about it was flashy, but damn, it was sexy. He crossed his arms over his chest and licked his lips. “You could have told me what a shitty liar you are before you agreed to this.”

I reared back. “I am not a shitty liar.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You said we were together as if it was a question,princess.”

“I didn’t expect to be ambushed by a drunken gossip grapevine,sweetheart.”I pointed out the open door toward the road. “Why didn’t you tell me what you were doing out there?”

He licked his lips again as if he were a predator, contemplating whether to play with his prey a little more before devouring it. “Ms.Bea is in the Ladies Auxiliary. She drives by every day right around this time, on her way home from her Jazzercise class.”

“So?”

“So, I’m a private guy,sugar,” he clipped. A ten-foot-thick vault door shrouded any semblance of a tender heart. “I haven’t been in a relationship since I moved here at fifteen. No one would believe we were together unless they saw it with their own damn eyes.”

As if the town was ready to prove his point, Marilyn Dreese and Suzanne Stewart power walked down the sidewalk, gawking at us as we stood in the doorway of Cal’s house.

Cal lifted a hand and tipped his head in acknowledgment. “Ms.Marilyn, Ms.Suzanne.”

The two ladies, dressed in matching polyester windbreakers, took it as an invitation to join us on the stoop. “Well, well, well, Callum,” Marilyn chided, hands on her hips. “What do we have here?”

I tightened the grip I had on the bag in my hands.

Suzanne clicked her tongue. “Don’t be like that, Mare.” She looked at Cal. “How are you feeling, dear? How’s the leg?”

Apparently, all it took to open the vault of Cal’s heart was two nosey old ladies. “Doing real good, Ms.Suzanne. Thank you for asking, and thank you for the dinner you dropped off a few weeks back. Don’t tell my Gran, but that pot roast was the best one I’ve ever had.” He pressed his hand to his stomach—one that I knew from firsthand experience was ridiculously cut. Stupid washboard abs... He wasn’t lean, though. Cal had a sort of soft bulk to him mixed in with the muscles. He was like GI Joe hiding in a teddy bear costume.

Suzanne preened, proud as a peacock.

Marilyn pshawed. “Enough lollygagging.” She turned her pearl-chained bifocals to me. “Who do we have here?” She extended her hand to shake mine, but my arms were still full.

Without being prompted, Cal unloaded the bags and boxes I had been attempting to pack-mule inside and set them on the staircase. I panicked, worrying that he would throw me to the wolves. Instead of bailing, he spun back around and slipped his arm low around my waist as I shook Marilyn’s hand. “My name is Layla. It’s nice to meet you.”

Callum stroked my hip with his thumb as I introduced myself. His hand nearly spanned the entire width of my side. The gentle pressure was warm and comforting.

“Well, I’ll be,” Marilyn gushed. “You’re Sepideh’s niece, aren’t you?”

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