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“I’ll think about all of it. She and I are going to dinner tonight. I think we’ll drive into Grand Junction and maybe go check out that new steakhouse, the Fortnight. That’ll give Mom and Dad a chance to get settled back home without me being underfoot.”
“Just a warning…the sommelier there, Idris, is a big-ass flirt.”
“Idris?”
“Yeah, and he has some snooty French last name, which escapes me at the moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off Ashley.”
I laugh. And it feels damned good to laugh. “Anyone is a big-ass flirt to you, Dale. You don’t have the first clue how to flirt.”
This gets a chuckle out of my brother. “Touché, little bro. Touché. I never claimed to. Thankfully, my wife seems to like me anyway.”
“Who knows why?” I scoff.
Good. We’re back to normal now. Giving each other crap and laughing.
“I’ll think about it.” I return to the subject at hand. “I do love her, man.”
“I know you do. I’m happy for you. Don’t fuck it up, all right?”
“I’ll talk to you soon. After you’re settled in the new house, you and I have a date to check out those GPS coordinates.”
“Nice subject change. But good enough. You’re my brother, and I love you, and I know you’ll do the right thing—for both Callie and yourself.”
I set my phone back down on the desk. Within a minute though, I’ve picked it up again. I quickly make reservations for two at Fortnight and then text Callie the details.
Tonight…
Tonight the future of Donny Steel and Callie Pike will be decided.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CALLIE
Cage is Jesse’s age, and he uses his van to transport the musical instruments and other equipment for their band. Which means…when the equipment isn’t in there, the back of the van is completely available. Somehow, Jordan managed to get him to agree to let us borrow it.
“What did you tell him?” Rory asks as the three of us chat behind the high school football stadium.
“I said we were helping the football team and cheerleaders move equipment.”
I nod. “Nice. Since the season is over after homecoming, that makes perfect sense.”
“I do have a brain in my head, Callie.” My cousin scoffs. “Quit thinking you’re the only smart one in this family.”
“I don’t think that.”
“Oh, come on, Callie,” Rory says.
“I don’t. I think I have a different kind of brain. Analytical as opposed to emotional.”
They both roll their eyes at me. No biggie. I’m used to it.
“What about all the equipment they store in the van?” I ask, intentionally steering off the subject of my brain.
“We’ll have to use the van sometime while they’re rehearsing. That way the equipment will be out.”
“Nice,” I say.
The back of the van is big enough for a queen-size mattress.
