Page 63 of Only One Tour Bus

I take a bite to appease him. A cold croque monsieur is still an excellent meal, and I look around while eating.

“Oh, I think Thomas and Kevin are trying to order some more wine.” I start to get up when Callum stops me with a hand on my arm.

“Eat first. They’ll be fine in the amount of time it takes to finish your meal. Especially since you’re eating it at such as alarming rate.”

“But we’re working.”

“And you can keep working after you eat.”

“You are bullying me with your consideration!” Which I didn’t even think was possible. But I take a bite. “Why are you so concerned about my food intake?” I ask that with a full mouth because I can multitask. And if he’s going to make a big deal about me eating, then he’s going to have to deal with whatever happens as a result.

“Because if you get sick again, I’ll have to take your eighteen to thirties all by myself. Plus, I think every European country we’re visiting has labor laws that give us at least a mealtime. They’re very strict about that sort of thing over here.”

“We had tea and pastries earlier. That was a meal.”

“There are laws that give us multiple meals throughout the day.”

“You fancy Europeans.”

“America needs more unions if three mealtimes and a teatime is a luxury beyond belief.”

“I won’t argue with that.” I cheers him with my sandwich, and then realize that he’s already eaten his and is halfway through his dessert crepe so he can’t reciprocate. Dang, I need to eat.

I start shoveling food in my mouth, getting hungry now that I’ve sat down and started eating. Really hungry, actually. I was so busy I wasn’t thinking about my stomach. But now that I’ve started eating, my stomach is waking up and demanding more food. Especially after not having much of an appetite when I was sick.

“I’ll order you another sandwich.” Callum looks around to get our waiter’s attention.

“No, it’s okay. This is enough. Especially once I eat my crepe.” Nutella and banana. Heaven.

“All right. But if you’re still hungry, we can get you some more food.” Callum stops trying to find a waiter but is still watching over me like a hawk.

“You’re putting a lot of pressure on me right now. Can you look away? We’re in Paris; there’s plenty to see that’s not me.” I wave my last bite of sandwich to the city street, but Callum doesn’t take the bait.

“I’ve seen the city a time or two.” He’s still laser-focused on me.

I bury my face in crepe, moving on to dessert because that’s easier to deal with than Callum. “You can never see Paris too many times. So look some more. Over there.” Surprisingly, he complies. Not so surprisingly, with a roll of his eyes.

I finish eating and everyone else is done too, so I stand to get everyone’s attention. It has the downside of also directing Callum’s attention back to me when I had just succeeded in getting him to look at not me. But Haussmann’s urban planning apparently can’t hold his attention now that I’m talking.

“I hope everyone had a great meal.” I pause for the incomprehensible happy cheers, made a lot louder and more incomprehensible by all the free wine they’ve been drinking. Very cheap wine, but in large quantities, it does not matter.

“Good. Laura is bringing the bus around to go back to the hotel. Anyone who wants to go out can grab the metro a block away and head to the Pigalle or Montmartre areas, or wherever you’d like. I hope everyone has fun, but please be ready to leave tomorrow morning at eight a.m. because we have a long travel day ahead of us. And we can take souvenirs back for anyone who wants to go out without them and you can pick them up at the front desk.”

“Are you going to go out with us?” Emilio asks.

“Sure, we can. For a bit.” I choose to interpret the “you” to mean “you two” and include Callum. It’ll be good for him. And spending time in a bar in Paris is not exactly a hardship. “But we’ll probably stick close to the hotel, so if you want a more exciting Parisian night out I suggest referring to Callum’s lists, or I can give some recommendations. But if you want a more relaxed night, you can come with us to a bar by the hotel. It’s pretty, if you’re into architecture, but not as lively.”

Callum settles the bill while I lead what’s left of our baby ducks across the busy streets to the bus.

When he gets on the bus, he sits down next to me instead of his seat across the aisle. I hide a smile. We’ve sat together for work and because I chose to sit next to him, but it’s nice to know that he wants to be near me as much as I want to be next to him.

Even though one of us is going to take the other’s job.

As chilling as that thought should be, it can’t completely push away the warmth that Callum causes just by being near. Because even though one of us is going to be back on the job hunt while the other gets to continue being employed, I can’t stop wanting to spend time with him.

Even knowing one of us will probably feel worse if we do get physical, his magnetic presence is too hard to stay away from. He’s entertaining, even when he doesn’t mean to be. And surprisingly sweet.

“So we’re going out, then?” Callum asks, his eyebrow lifted.