His gaze cuts toward me and narrows for a millisecond before raking down my body. His frown deepens, and he lifts his gaze almost reluctantly to meet mine. Energy snaps in the air between us, thickening each molecule until I feel like I can’t takea full breath. Flutters ripple through my stomach, a sensation utterly alien to what I’ve been going through the past few days.
He slides his cool gaze away and continues his powerful strides across the taproom. I spin on the smooth surface of the stool as he marches past me. I don’t get a second glance—but I don’t want one. Idon’t. Then he takes the stairs two at a time, his broad shoulders retreating until the slam of an office door makes me jump.
Calder Cross has arrived.
TWO
MEREDITH
Molly slaps her hand to her chest. “That’s nothim, is it?”
“Yeah.” My answer comes out breathless. His headshots don’t do him justice—not that I’ve snooped on him over the years.
“God. His photos are a vibe, but he’s just…”
“Yeah.” An exhale ekes out of me.
You deal with your family, and I’ll deal with mine.
Indignation sparks hot across the back of my neck. He can’t just waltz in and disregard me. This place is my life. Calder walked away twenty years ago. I was there, hiding and listening. Technically, Ransom screamed at him to leave, along with his two brothers. They’d all been fighting about Holly and Ransom getting married mere months after their mom died.
Calder listened and gave up on his dad, the ranch, and the brewery. He’s a man who’s probably used to power and authority, and he just dismissed me in the place he’s ignored for twenty years.
“What a dick,” I grit out through clenched teeth and push off the stool.
Molly’s eyes flare wider. “You’re not going to talk to him, are you? He looks like he eats souls for lunch. It’s one o’clock and he’s starving.”
“It’s one o’clock and my patience is gone.” I tug my polo down. I should’ve worn my nicer pair of jeans. These have a small hole in the back pocket.
Damn. What underwear am I wearing?
Before I wonder if my yellow panties are visible, I propel myself up the stairs. My jeans could be pristine, and they still wouldn’t compare to his suit. I could be in an evening gown, and he’d probably give me a look just as disdainful.
“Such an ass,” I mutter through clenched teeth.
I find him in Ransom’s office. The door bounced open after the slam, thanks to settling over the years, and I nudge it wider. Calder’s back is to me, his broad shoulders blocking the light from the window that used to be a hay door. He’s standing frozen in the middle of the room, across from a wide oak desk, as if he were charging for the desk and the loss of his dad suddenly struck him upside the head.
My heart stutters as the smoky scent of Ransom’s cigars curls across my nose. Tears prod the backs of my eyes. I haven’t broken down yet, and I won’t cry in front of Calder. For one, I’m an ugly crier, and he’s so beautiful that I’d only feel worse. And two, guys like Calder exploit weaknesses.
He hasn’t seen me, and I capitalize on the chance to look him and his wide shoulders over. A man should not look this impressive from behind. He even stands with authority.
I lift my chin. I may feel like that thirteen-year-old girl intimidated by three college-aged brothers, but I have authority too. A little bit. Hopefully more than it feels like, now he’s here.
“You could’ve called first.”
His head tilts to the side—not fully looking over his shoulder, just enough of a jolt to tell me I surprised him. Has he beenhit with nostalgia just like me, the smell of a Montecristo cigar transporting him back in time?
He moves around the desk, surprisingly quiet for such a big guy. Without saying a word, he unplugs the laptop and neatly twists the cord into a small bundle.
“What are you doing?” I ask, unwilling to be a spectator to whatever he’s planning.
Again, he doesn’t respond. He starts rummaging through drawers.
Despite my growing anger, I take another moment to observe him more closely—the older version of that cocky college kid I despised when my sister first dragged me across the state to help her best friend.
His lips have a naturally arrogant tilt beneath a strong nose that may have been broken at least once. The guys were all in college when Holly and I came to Scandal, but from the stories Ransom shared about raising three rambunctious sons, it’s a possibility. The dark hair combed off Calder’s head has enough style that it almost appears unintentional.
He’s on his third drawer when I charge toward the desk. I press my hands on top and lean over. “You can ignore me all you want, Calder, but when it comes to this brewery, everything is my business. What. Are. You. Doing?”
