AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You’re too young to be so jaded,” I tell her. I want to fix that. I want to make her believe she’s worth the world.
“Life taught me to be that way,” Zoe says. I can’t help but think that we are more alike than she thinks.
“Give me a chance to prove to you I mean what I say. Go out with me tomorrow night. Just you and me.”
“Oh no,” Zoe laughs, holding her hands up in a stop position as if to ward off my invitation. Sadly for her, that only adds to my determination.
I sigh, knowing she’s going to make me work for it, which is fine because I can already tell that she’s more than worth it. I already want to claim her. Claim her as mine. She is mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
Chapter6
Zoe
Being at home,I enjoy the familiarity of the small house. It’s not over the top. Everything is clean and simple. The kitchen is also the dining room. The small island in the middle turns into a bar with stools, which erases the need for a kitchen table and makes better use of the area—especially since counter space is so limited. I smile every time I see it because my dad built it for my mom, and even though he was the one that did most of the cooking, she loved to sit there and watch him do it.
The bright colors of the walls were entirely her idea. Mom loved the bright yellow. She said life was harsh and dull enough. The curtains, rugs, and everything else she could find at the thrift stores are covered in lemons. It all reminded her of warm sunshine on the beach.
It’s been a week since I met Callan at the dinner Emilia dragged me to. The man has crept into my thoughts or popped into my mind at random times throughout the day ever since. He is now, but I’m trying my best to stop myself from acknowledging it.
I’ve decided to make a special dinner tonight since dad will be home. It’s rare for him not to work a twelve-hour shift. His work ethic didn’t stop when my schooling was suddenly paid for. While he no longer had to work two jobs, he kept his regular shifts with extended hours. I know cooking is the last thing he wants to do when he comes home, so I try to relieve the burden when I can. I’m making his favorite—meatloaf, mashed potatoes, corn, and coleslaw. I’ve missed him. I hope that now that school is done, we will get more time together.
My cell rings, interrupting my thoughts. I pick it up without checking the ID, knowing that the only two that call me are either my father or Emilia.
“Your voice is as beautiful as I remember,” a deep voice says, sending shivers down my spine.
“Callan?” I ask, frowning as I put the phone between my ear and shoulder, stirring the pots on the stove.
“You remembered my name,” he murmurs smoothly. “I like the way it rolls off your tongue.” His voice is warming me all over—even as I try to ignore it.
I let out an annoyed breath when it finally hits me that I didn’t give him my number. I also refuse to acknowledge the fact that I hoped he would somehow call anyway.
“How did you get my number?” I steel my voice, trying to focus my attention on dinner instead of the fact that the man has a future as a phone-sex operator if being an attorney doesn’t work out for him. A flash of him sitting in a call center talking to lonely women has me almost giggling, but I stifle it.
“I’m a man of many talents,” Callan quips.
“Anotherline,” I sigh out. “I’m going to kill Emilia for giving you my number.” While I sound mad, I figured she would.
“I haven’t spoken to Emilia.”
“Then how?”
“I have my ways.”
“Why did you call?” I ask, resisting the urge to say his name.
“I called to see if you’ll have dinner with me tonight.” I can hear the smile in his voice and the warmth in his invitation. There’s a voice inside my head that is screamingdo it.Callan is confusing me way too much.
“I already have plans,” I tell him. I hear a chair squeak as I stir the potatoes while my words sink in.
“You’re dating someone else?” Callan asks seriously.
“Why are you so surprised? Did you think another man wouldn’t want to have anything to do with me?”
“Quit talking like that, or I’ll spank your ass,” he growls into the phone.
“Spank my ass?” I gasp. My body tightens at his delicious threat, making my mind go blank in shock.
“Yes, exactly. Now, call this asshole up and cancel your date,” he says.
