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“So, beautiful. Want to ride with me today on the way to get the horses?” He flashed a gorgeous smile. “I’d love to spend a few hours getting to know you better.”
Calla’s stomach flipped at having him so near. She didn’t know what the one-eighty in his response to her was about, but she couldn’t help being flattered by it.
Which was stupid. It was obviously Liam and Mackenzie had some kind of rivalry going on. Was Liam’s sudden interest only due to Mack’s attention to her last night and this morning? Or did he just hit on every female he came into contact with—and seeing her in only her sleep shirt last night had finally convinced him that she was, in fact, female?
Neither option was especially flattering, but the more Liam smiled and leaned in toward her, the less she cared about his motives.
She’d had a crush on this guy ever since she’d first seen him. He was the kind of boyish handsome that Hollywood celebrated. Maybe that was shallow, but her attraction wasn’t only about his looks. He always seemed to be the life of the party whenever he and his friends went out. His laugh was loud and contagious. He was everything her quiet, dour life wasn’t and she’d been surprised by how much she wanted even a little bit of that shine to turn her direction.
“I promise I won’t even bother ya by singing along with the radio. Unless a One Direction song comes on.” He bumped her shoulder. “Then all bets are off.”
Calla choked on a laugh, grabbing her water tumbler and sipping before her bite of waffle spewed everywhere.
“You a Harry Styles fan?” she asked, one eyebrow lifting.
Liam put a hand to his chest and pretended to pump it like a heart. “He’s just so dreamy. That hair. How can you not want to run your fingers through it?”
His eyes lit up when Calla laughed again.
“You’re a closet Directioner, aren’t ya? Don’t lie.” He held up his hands. “I don’t judge. I’ll even help you hang your posters later tonight.” He leaned in. “You don’t mind inviting me into your room, do you?”
“Jesus Christ, some of us are trying to eat here,” Mack said, finally sitting down at the table across from them with a stack of three waffles piled high, syrup making a pool on his plate. “Your sad attempt at flirting is turning my stomach. Oh wait, nope, that was your eggs.”
Calla covered her mouth with her hand and coughed to cover her laugh. Then she cleared her throat when she saw Liam glaring at Mack.
“Do you want a little waffle along with that syrup?” Calla asked Mack, gesturing toward his syrup-drenched plate. “And maybe some oars to help you wade through it?”
The tiniest edge of Mack’s mouth quirked up. “What can I say? I like things sweet and wet.” His eyes did a slow survey of her body as he cut off a huge bite of waffle and shoved it in his mouth.
Calla grabbed her water glass again as her stomach contracted at his words. She rubbed her legs together under the table. The way Mack was looking at her… dear God but that was sexy.
She was used to being around men—she’d worked with ranch hands all her life. This was a far more comfortable environment for her than say, a room full of gossiping women. But she usually disappeared into the background, just another one of the guys. Being the object of focus was an entirely new experience.
Liam had certainly noticed that she’d ditched her flannel when he’d first seen her this morning in the barn. Being objectified, it was supposed to be a bad thing. But for a girl who’d never been looked at that way, she couldn’t say she minded too terribly.
Was this what girls like Bethany felt all the time? No wonder women spent so much energy on their appearance. Cal’s hand went to her hair, pushing some that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ear. Did it look okay?
She almost rolled her eyes as soon as she had the thought. Dear Jesus, a couple guys looked her way and suddenly she was acting like Lady frickin’ Godiva. What, was she gonna go to the salon in town and get her hair put in rollers next?
She took another few bites of waffle, feeling quickly full. The fact that Mack’s intense gray eyes never left her might have had something to do with her nervous stomach. Liam was also impossible to ignore, his thigh brushing hers in a way she wasn’t sure was accidental. She was glad when talk around the table moved on to other topics and off of her. She was all in her head and missed some of the conversation until a small piece of toast came flying across the table and hit her instead of the intended target, which was apparently Liam.
