Claiming Callie: Part three Read online

  He takes a sip of his wine, looking as though he is considering the question. “Here in Pittsburgh? I’d be sitting in my hotel room, ordering room service and reading the paper or watching some dreadful pay-per-view movie. But back home, on a normal night, I’d be taking a walk on the beach. Night is my favorite time to walk by the water. It somehow seems so much more mysterious at dark, the water as black as ink, save for the reflection of the moon. It’s an eerie kind of beautiful. I like to stare out into the water and imagine what it would be like, to be out there, surrounded by all that dark.”

  Callie swallows. “But instead, you’re here with me.”

  Brian raises his glass to hers. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

  “Now I know you’re lying,” Callie quips, sinking back into her chair.

  “Not a chance. How could you even doubt that?”

  Running her finger over the rim of her glass, she meets his gaze. “You don’t even know me.”

  “No. That’s right. I don’t.” He shakes his head. “But that’s the point. I want to know you, Callie Cartwright.”

  She loves the way he says her name. As if she’s everything important in this world.

  He leans closer. “There’s something about you, and it makes me want to know more. From the first time I saw you at GGF, banging that pretty little head of yours against the desk,” reaching across the table, he brushes the hair out of her face, “I was intrigued. You were so damn cute and funny.”

  Callie swallows when he reaches out to place his hand over the fingers nervously playing with the edge of her glass.

  “Can you really blame me? A fascinating, mysterious woman. One who can perform a SWOT analysis in her sleep, knows the stock market better than most men, yet dresses in sky-high heels and impeccable clothes, looking like she just jumped out of Glamour magazine. Drop-dead gorgeous. A smile that can light up a room in .2 seconds. And those are just the things I know. How could I not want to know everything? Answer that.”

  Her breath catches in her throat. Biting her lip, she wonders what in the world a girl can say to that and comes up short.

  “Just explain one thing to me. Because I think maybe this is where the problem of you wondering why I’m so interested in you comes into play. Where’s this sort-of kind-of boyfriend you mentioned earlier? And why isn’t he the one sitting here, holding your hand and trying to his damnedest to win you over?”

  “He’s…it’s complicated.”

  “I can do complicated.”

  “Why? Don’t men usually run as fast as they can at even the slightest hint of a girl with baggage or drama?” She means for it to come off as a joke, but her tone suggests otherwise.

  “Try me. What baggage? What’s so complicated?”

  His deep green eyes darken and his mouth curls slightly at the corners, his expression serious. She draws in a deep breath, and it dawns on her that this is a man, a real man. Not some college boy or fellow Pitt student. He’s in his twenties, already successful, already well planted in his career. This is someone much different than the boys she’s used to dating. This is a guy who would never ask a friend to help him in a silly charade to win over an ex-girlfriend. He’s too direct. Too forward and mature for that. This is a man who reaches for what he wants.

  And is probably used to getting it.

  Callie shakes her head and smiles ruefully. Be careful what you wish for.

  “My parents died in an accident almost five years ago now, and I’m still not over it. I probably never will be. I have virtually no family left to speak of, unless you count my best friend and her brother, whose parents have semi-adopted me.”

  Swallowing, she continues, wondering while she speaks why she’s trying to push him away before he even has a chance to get close. “And speaking of the brother, that’s the relationship in question. It’s a rather new development and would take far too long to explain how it even came about, but I’m pretty sure he has feelings for someone else. I’m also well aware that if it ends ugly, I might lose the one and only family I have left. The other night I got arrested because I was a drunken fool running around the streets of campus half-naked. And,” she takes a deep breath, bracing herself for this last part, “I might be able to help others with their finances and help flailing businesses to flourish, but my own finances are a wreck.”

  “I would’ve paid to see the drunken-naked part.”

  Callie’s shoulders drop and she frowns. “I’m serious.”

  Brian shrugs and waves a hand, as if pushing the list she just rattled off aside, as if it is nothing more than a speck of dust. “That’s nothing.”

  Callie eyes him, her brows raised.

  “Really. You won’t ever get over the loss of your parents. Live your life and move on, yes, but does someone ever get over something like that? I don’t think so. And I’m not sure why you think that you should, that you’re somehow damaged because you’ve experienced loss. You’re strong. As for your finances, you’re a college student. You’re supposed to be in the red. It comes with the territory, but something tells me once you graduate, you’ll flourish. You’re too smart not to. The drunken thing you can chalk up to a college experience. And as for the boy, if he’s too blind to see what’s right in front of him and hold onto it… Well, he’s not even worthy to look at you, much less date you. I’m a man who knows what I want. And I usually get it, too. I’m no fool. I don’t mess around. If I can win you over, I’m playing for keeps.”

  Callie’s breath hitches and her heart ramps up a notch. He’s right. If Dean doesn’t have feelings for her, then why is she even giving him a second thought? There are no feelings to confirm, no choices to make. He doesn’t feel the same way. Period. If he did, he would’ve told her. He’s had ample opportunity.

  And then, as if her thoughts and words conjure him, Callie turns to see Dean’s quick stride heading toward them.

  All the color drains from her face as Dean comes to a halt at their table.

  “Callie,” Dean says, and his gaze rests on her.

  The sight of him, of his stormy blue eyes and his rumpled hair, sends her pulse into overdrive. Warmth floods parts of her body that were dormant moments ago, and she hates herself for it. She hates this new hold he has on her, and that he can just show up here out of the blue, while she’s on a date—a real date. Trying to forget him.

  “Dean, I’m on a date,” she says, gritting her teeth and feeling her face flush.

  His pupils dilate and his breathing hitches. “Really? That’s interesting.” He turns his gaze, moving over the length of Brian for the first time, taking him in. Callie wonders what he thinks of the man, who’s sitting back in his chair, looking completely at ease, as if this is some reunion between best friends and not his competition.

  Reaching his arm out, Brian extends his hand to Dean, who stares at it as if it’s a snake ready to bite. “I’m Brian,” he says, his voice firm with a hint of threat—letting Dean know that he won’t back down.

  “Dean,” he says, taking Brian’s hand and shaking it. “Did she tell you she has a boyfriend?”

  Callie gasps. “Dean!”

  Inside, she screams like a raging wind. All he can think about is their damned deal. Operation Get the Girl. Still, all he cares about is Maya. What a fool I am.

  “She filled me in briefly on your grade-school relationship. Forgive me, but it doesn’t seem to carry much weight since she’s here with me. Does it? Seems to me, someone like Callie can decide for herself what she wants and who she’d like to spend her time with.”

  The muscle in Dean’s jaw twitches and Callie watches mutely as Brian seems to stake a claim on her. Tension pulses at the small table. The chords in Dean’s neck throb and his entire body seems to pulse with energy.

  “You’ve known her, what? All of five minutes,” he says, weighing each word, reminding Callie of their history together. “Can I speak with you?” he asks, turning to her.

  Exhaling, Callie’s gaze darts between the men
, noting the extreme differences in the two. Brian’s easy, confident demeanor to that of Dean’s repressed fury.

  “No. I don’t think I want to,” Callie says, surprising herself. But really, what could Dean possibly have to say? And the fact that he came storming in here, crashing her date and trying to insist on the continued status of their ruse really irritates her.

  Dean seems to shrink back at this. He unlocks his jaw as he stares at her a moment. “Please,” he says, and by the tone of his voice, she thinks he’ll beg if she doesn’t agree, when right now all she wants is for him to go away so she can continue her date with Brian. So she can forget that Dean Michaels occupies a place in her heart.

  Reaching across the table, she grabs Brian’s hand and squeezes it. “I’ll just be one minute.”

  “Take your time. I’ll be waiting,” Brian says, his eyes kind, sending her the message that she’s worth waiting for.

  Callie gets up, and without saying anything else to Dean she heads toward the restroom, stopping in the small alcove in front of the bathroom doors. Turning on him, she pokes him in the ribs. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asks.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  DEAN

  “Me? What am I doing?” Dean asks, pointing at his chest. “What about you? You’re over there…w-wi-with Mr. Suit and Tie.” He waves to where Brian sits, discussing something with the waiter, and his heart lurches. “And it’s a pink fucking tie, for God’s sake.”

  Callie rolls her eyes. “Is that the best you can do? And last time I checked, Dean, we’re not actually dating.”

  “We had a deal,” he says, clinging to the only thing he has. The only thing standing between him and the asshole having dinner with his girl.

  “I tried to give you your money back. I will get it back to you. So I owe you nothing.”

  “Callie.” She moves to brush past him, but he stops her, gently gripping her arm. She can’t leave now. It can’t end like this. These past weeks, even though they’ve been pretending, have been the best of his life.

  She looks up at him and her eyes soften, along with her voice. “Look, I understand you want Maya back. That’s okay.”

  Hope sparks inside him, igniting like tinder. I can make her listen.

  “But that’s the thing—”

  “Wait. I’m not done,” she interrupts, pressing a finger to his lips to silence him. It takes everything in him to maintain his composure, to stay still instead of moving her hand away and kissing her before she has a chance to say anything else. “You want her back and I know I was helping you, but the thing is…” She pauses and bites her lip, then continues. “That man waiting for me out there wants me. He wants me. I’m not helping him with some scheme. He’s not thinking about some other girl the entire time we’re together. I don’t have to pretend. He cares about me, what I feel, what I think…”

  The thought of her with any man but him crushes him. His heart bruises at the thought and it nearly drives him mad. He is the one that wants her. He is the one that knows her like no one else, that loves every part of her. Not some douche-in-a-tie she just met.

  “That’s the thing. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I do care. Forget Maya. Callie…” He steps forward until there’s only a breath between them. Reaching out, he places his hand on the side of her face, moving his thumb softly over the curve of her jaw.

  How could anyone not want her?

  The metallic taste of fear coats the back of his throat and his stomach rolls. “I care about you. You have no idea how much.” He closes the tiny gap that separates them, crushing his mouth over hers, noting her soft gasp and tasting her surprise.

  Her kiss is like a drug. Intoxicating. He loses himself in it, forgetting he’s in public. That he’s in a restaurant. That people are probably staring.

  His right hand moves from her jaw into her hair while his other tilts her chin, deepening their contact and pouring every ounce of emotion of the last seven-plus years into this one kiss. Forgetting the other guy. Forgetting everything except this burning within, the one that wants her more than anything in this world. The one that would kill for her. Die for her. Do anything in his power to have her—even create some damned dumbass charade just to win her over. He kisses her as if it’s the last time.

  He feels her softly pulling away, and so they part and he presses his forehead to hers. His breath comes out in short, ragged exhales. He can’t speak, can’t think. This is the part where she’ll tell me how she feels. Please, God, let this be the part where she tells me she cares for me, too. Dropping his arms, he grips her hands in his and lifts them between their bodies. This is how he wants it to be as he tells her that he’s falling for her. That he fell a long time ago.

  When he blinks his eyes open, readying himself for what he’s about to say, her gaze is already on his. And it’s not until he hears her brittle voice say “Of course… Of course she’s here. She always is,” that he realizes they’re not alone.

  * * *

  He watches Callie walk away. He tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen, and he can’t say he blames her.

  “What the hell are you doing here?” he snaps.

  Maya blinks and takes a step back, his anger clearly a surprise. Sighing, Dean tries to compose himself, tries to dial down the blood boiling in his veins, the throbbing that makes his head feel like it might explode. “Why are you here?”

  “I’m here on a date with… Well, he’s really more of a friend.”

  I don’t give a shit who he is. And what kind of college student can afford a place like this? Or are all college chicks dating corporate douches these days?

  Then, the implication of what she says dawns on him. “You broke up with your boyfriend?”

  Maya nods. “It wasn’t going to work, not when…”

  He’s not listening. Her voice trails to the back of his mind, where it’s nothing more than white noise. Because he’s peering around the alcove out into the dining room, and he catches a glimpse of Callie. She’s drinking wine, leaning into the table, toward the guy she’s with and laughing at something he’s saying.

  Fisting his hands by his side, Dean says, “Listen, I have to go.” He turns and starts to walk away.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Maya says, and he freezes.

  “What do you mean, you know what I’m doing?” He asks, slowly turning around. “How?”

  “Jason. He’s my date, actually.”

  Dean frowns, trying to piece together what she’s saying before it hits him. Jason. “You mean Jason, as in my teammate?”

  Maya nods and Dean curses under his breath. Of course. Of course he’s behind this. And he’s the only college prick that would be able to afford Isabela’s. That ass-hat can’t stand losing. He has to one-up Dean, no matter the score. I should’ve known…

  “How does he know what’s going on?” Dean asks.

  Maya shakes her head. “I don’t know. The point is, though, that you can stop pretending, Dean. I know you and Callie have been trying to make me jealous. I know now that your entire relationship was just a lie to get me to notice you. It worked…”

  “Wait.” Dean swallows. She doesn’t know the whole truth. She moves toward him and places her hands on his chest. The smell of her floral perfume encapsulates him, but compared to Callie’s scent of lavender and vanilla, the smell is cloying and his stomach rolls.

  He shakes his head, needing to clear the air. “That’s not—”

  “I mean, isn’t that why you kissed Callie just now?” She leans in even closer, until he grips her wrist to stop her. “You somehow found out I was here. Just like you got me to photograph your article for the paper, just like you got my class schedule. And even though Callie’s on a date with someone else, you came up here, and you saw me coming so you kissed her. But you don’t have to do that anymore, Dean. I’m here. I want you back, too. I—”

  “Maya, you’ve got this all wrong.” Dean’s stomach sinks and he takes a step back. �
��You don’t understand—”

  “I don’t know. I think that pretty much sums it up.” Jason appears out of nowhere, his perpetually smug smile in place.

  “You son-of-a—”

  “Tsk-tsk-tsk,” Jason says, cutting him off again. “That’s why they call these kinds of places upscale and the price tag is high. To keep riffraff like you out.”

  Dean clenches his jaw so hard he thinks his teeth might pop. He takes a step closer. Just one punch. That’s all I need, and I would feel so much better.

  “Hey.” Maya steps in between the men. “Jason, stop being a jerk,” she says, glancing up at him.

  Shoving past Jason, Dean unclenches his fists. It won’t do him any good to get thrown out of the restaurant in front of Callie and Mr. Suit-and-Tie. Or worse yet, get arrested, because that’s just what Jason would do—charge him with assault. That way, Dean gets kicked off the team and Jason can bask in the limelight.

  Without pause, Dean pushes his way past Jason. “I’m outta here,” he says, and watches Callie with longing in the pit of his stomach as he walks out.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CALLIE

  Callie returns to her seat with Brian. The appetizer has arrived, yet he’s waiting patiently—hands folded in his lap, soft smile on his face—for her return. Her appetite is gone, but she knows she needs to sit through this meal. Enjoy Brian’s company. Because this is easy. There are no complications here. And so, for the rest of the evening, she will push her thoughts of Dean aside, along with the fact that he told her he cared for her—despite Maya standing there, watching them, waiting for him.

  “So, tell me about California,” Callie says, raising her wine to her lips. I’m going to need a lot of this.

  Brian smiles. “What do you want to know?”