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CHAPTER20
Ronan’s treadmill was in pieces on the floor around Calista. He didn’t know what he thought he’d find, but it wasn’t this. He blinked and didn’t know what to say. All his hours in the gym, and he’d never even seen a deconstructed treadmill.
Calista had her phone propped against a massive toolkit, and she was staring at a diagram of a treadmill which was put together.
Had she done this before? Did she know what she was doing? Ronan went to scratch his head, but realized he held her drinks. He’d deal with the practical until he figured out what was going on. “Thirsty? I brought you a water, and a smoothie. Today’s drink is strawberry, spinach, yogurt, and protein powder.”
Calista wrinkled her nose but nodded.
He moved forward and handed them over. When she reached up, his green t-shirt shifted, drawing attention to the shade of her pretty eyes. His heart revved, though he took a deep breath to calm himself. Seeing a woman in his shirt the morning after the night before was fueling a sexual reaction completely out of context. He tried to get his brain to explain that to his body.
Calista tried the smoothie, looked from left to right as if considering the taste and nodded her approval, then she chugged some water. “Thank you.”
“I’ll leave you to it.”
* * *
Dinnertime came, and Ronan went back upstairs, carrying a small pharmacy bag that had been delivered for Calista. Everything looked the same as when he’d last seen it, destroyed. He placed the bag inside the door.
Calista was on her hands and knees, lifting the treadmill’s screen from its casing. Her ass, though, firm and right there. He held in a groan. Women should only wear yoga pants all the time. She had great legs too. A skirt would look nice, also pajamas, nothing. He swallowed and resisted thinking about how much more of her he’d seen when they first met, and then again at the Mer-bar. Images flooded his mind anyway. Stop ogling the owner. Ronan focused on the parts that had once been his treadmill. “I do use that, you know.”
Calista didn’t look up. “I’m improving it for you.” She set the screen aside.
Okay, he could always hit the Snowers’ weight room and use their equipment. Looks like he’d have to.
“Have at it.” Ronan paused. “I wanted to check about dinner.”
Calista reached for a wrench. She froze in that position and tilted her head toward him. “I could eat.”
There it was. What guy didn’t want the occasional home-cooked meal. No man he knew. No law against being well-fed. Ronan rubbed his stomach, suddenly much emptier than it had been a minute ago. He loved a woman who could cook. Why the hell was he still single? A woman at the stove, then in his bed every night, that was what he wanted. He needed to up his game and find a life partner. As soon as he was back in Seattle, he’d find the right woman, then he’d never have inappropriate thoughts about his former owner again.
Calista rose, and they went downstairs.
She headed straight to the sink and washed her hands. What was her specialty? He wasn’t craving anything in particular, something creamy maybe. He eyed her arms.
All he could see of her was her fingertips to her elbows, and her neck under his V-neck tee. The shirt hung over her hips and her leggings covered her. Calista had on sneakers and a hint of pink low hang socks showed above them when she stretched. This was nothing like the day he’d met her, but he was reacting the same way. His body stiffened, and his brain melted. He'd seen so much creamy skin that day. He hadn’t been able to go in the conference room since without indulging in the memory of lush curves, petal soft skin, and the fragrance of vanilla.
Stop.
Ronan took a seat at the table. “What are you in the mood for?”
Calista came and sat opposite him. “Whatever you like.”
That answer from those pink lips undid him, though he could detect no flirtation in her gaze, just a question in that lush alto voice of hers. What would he like? Her in his bed, on his couch, this table, all of the above.
Geeze.
What was wrong with him? He’d been without a woman for months. Until now, he’d been nothing but happy to have a break from the drama. Hix ex, Bria, had never consumed his thoughts like this.
But with Calista, he was fixated. Hungry for forbidden fruit. Ah, his shoulders tensed as he identified his problem. He couldn’t have her, so he wanted her. Hmm, not a particular affliction that had hit him before. He was a traditional guy who liked being in a relationship. He was only a man though. “I’m open.”
Calista arched her eyebrows, “Italian, Mexican, Asian?”
Right, that was a diverse list, this woman was talented. He’d keep his mind on Seattle, not over-heated Austin. “Seafood?”
Calista nodded. She patted her pocket and groaned. “Phone is upstairs.”
Ah, was she going to have some special ingredients delivered? Look up a complicated recipe? Nice. The frozen fish filets in his freezer could wait until he was home alone again. Ronan nudged his phone toward her. “Use mine.”
