I wantedCallan’sattention.
Just his. All of it. I wanted to whisper into the crook of his neck and ask him to hold me… Kiss me…
Would he be gentle—
God.
The vivid fantasy of Callan overpowering me and pushing me onto the bed was such an unexpected shock, I shot off the lounge. Blood thumped in my ears. Flustered, my cheeks on fire, I staggered around the porch picking up Matilda’s failed attempts at daisy chains. I’d disappear inside to do the dishes next. Vacuum. I’d do anything to keep busy—except imagine my friend arching over me likethat.
It was wrong. All in my head. Forbidden.
And it was too soon…
Wasn’t it?
13
The Unwanted Arrival in Spring
Erin
Callan was avoiding me.
He hadn’t stopped by the cottage in days. No. Aweek. He sent messages, and our daily round of Unscramble still popped up on my screen, but he was distant. An ocean was between us again, even though we lived on the same property.
My eyes settled on the grand house peeking through the elms, and I breathed a little easier…until I remembered why I’d hauled my backside up the hill in the first place. There was only one way to close the gap I’d wedged between us. We needed to talk. No texts. Face-to-face.
I’d bumble my way through an apology that would hopefully explain the needy finger I’d traced around his top button—to myself as well as him—and our friendship would go back to the way it was before.
My heart sank.
Did I even want that? Thebefore?
Or did I want to run headlong for the breathless excitement of that forbidden moment in the kitchen to see what cameafter?
Matilda refused to walk on the path beside me. Overnight spring rain had left puddles scattered along the winding driveway, and the crunch of pebbles couldn’t compete with the joy of jumping from one muddy spot to the next.
“Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!”
She giggled when the murky water sprayed up her boots.
A big voice boomed, “Who’s that stomping on my farm?”
Callan’s head popped out of the garage. An enormous smile spread across his face, but when our eyes met, he quickly shook it off, firming his mouth in a frown.
O…kay?
“Cal!” Matilda cried. “We here!”
“I might’ve heard you coming.” Some of his awkwardness dissolved. He winked at me. “You’re testing out your boots, huh?”
“Yeah.” She rammed her foot down in a puddle. “Look!”
He grinned. “Impressive. Other than stomping, what else are you girls doing today? I was thinking I might head into town.” He cocked his head. “Want to get some ice cream with an old farmer?”
Matilda clapped. “Yeah!” Hopeful eyes lifted. “We go, Mummy?”
“Sure,” I said. “Why not?” A few more minutes to think about what to say couldn’t hurt. I fished around in my bag for the spare clothes I’d packed for Matilda. Her sandals were stashed somewhere in the bottomless pit, too. “Til, come to the house. We’ll get you cleaned up before you drip all that mud in Cal’s truck—”
