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Ronan shut her door.
Calista gave him a thumbs up.
Cute. He shot off a text to her with his address, ignoring the mermaid emoji he’d saved with her contact number back at the Mer-bar. He’d been meaning to change that. Later. He backed away and headed to his truck.
* * *
Calista parked in the driveway of Ronan’s rental. The modern two-story house was well kept from the outside, and the lawn manicured.
Ronan waved her in from the garage.
She was entering Ronan’s private sanctum. Calista walked toward him too tired to feel as overwhelmed as she would have at any other time. She eyed the garage walls with a curious gaze. All three sides held racks full of sports equipment, but no tools. “Where are your tools?”
Ronan pointed to a small plastic box, the basic kind of kit department stores put on sale during the holidays.
Calista twitched. The one in the hatch of her SUV was bigger. How did he fix things? Hmm. Calista followed him in through the garage door.
After the drop zone, there were more modern lines. The high ceilings were impressive and the open concept suited the space, as did the minimalistic cool décor, a large black leather sofa and square ebony coffee table. Very masculine. She’d never been in a bachelor pad. This was very cool, very good for expanding her knowledge of the opposite sex. Could she ease this into conversation during class? She’d totally get social credit for being in Ronan’s house if not actual points.
Ronan’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen. “Sorry, got to take this. Make yourself at home.” He gestured to the dining table off to the right and went out the back door to a sunroom.
Curious. Why couldn’t he take the call in front of her? Olivia believed when a man did that, he was cheating. Lawyers were cynical like that. Who was on the other line that he was hiding? Instead of going to the dining room, she sank on to the sofa. Comfy. She’d just lean back for a second and puzzle out the answer.
Her eyes drifted shut.
* * *
Ronan wanted to punch the sky, everything he wanted was coming to fruition. GM Olson had just straight up said that when he renewed his own contract with Washington, he would move forward with acquiring Ronan’s contract. Washington was within his reach. He strode back in with confident steps. The way things were going he’d snag his answers from Calista and get her on the road with a takeout bag before he dug into his evening meal solo. Win-win-win.
The house was quiet.
At first glance, it was as if she’d left. Then he saw her on the couch. That mass of blond hair, that creamy skin, long legs, sleeping beauty. He gently brushed her hair back from her face. “Calista?”
She was out, her breath rose and fell with an even rhythm. Calista couldn’t drive home this tired. He could call her sister, but Piper hadn’t struck him as the discreet type, and he didn’t want her in his business.
Mikah would pick Calista up, but Mikah was trying to stay out of management drama. Getting involved was the opposite of what Mikah wanted, and Ronan respected that.
Ronan could take her home. Then her car would be stuck here, and he’d have to arrange another meeting to get her ride back to her. How to simplify this? He touched her cheek. Her skin was warm and soft, crazy soft, like the petals in the rose garden back home. Hockey. Puck. Rink. He got his head back on. “Calista.” He spoke louder this time.
Calista’s eyes blinked open. The clever light green was fogged with sleep and incomprehension.
Yep, no way he’d put her in a cab. “I don’t think you should drive. I can take you home. Or I have guest rooms.” Grrr, the stupid words were out before he could stop himself. He’d just invited the new owner to spend the night.
