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I watched, captivated, as the drops fell along the plane of his nose, his hand reaching up to brush away the hair that had plastered itself to my cheek. My eyes fluttered closed at his touch, my teeth capturing my bottom lip. Even in the frigid weather, Callum’s touch still warmed my skin.
If only it weren’t so easy to give into the craving of this man. I only needed to turn my head ever so slightly to press my lips into his palm that was still cupping my face.
Another clap of thunder brought my brazen imagination back to reality as if the spell cast over us snapped.
Callum dropped his hand, allowing it to fall to his side as he cleared his throat. “Ah, I better get going,” he declared but did nothing to action his statement. Instead, he remained in front of me as if waiting forsomething.
Waiting for me to speak? Waiting for me to invite him in out of the rain? If that was what he was waiting for, then what was itIwas waiting for?
We were both standing there like we were cemented to the spot by the forces of the universe.
I wanted answers. I wanted to know how, even now, after all this time. The moment our skin connected, I could feel all the anger and resentment I had for him starting to wane.
How could one connection have the power to ease the pain I felt in my chest when it came to Callum McArthur?
How was it simplified so a broken heart and a decade of dislike could be soothed in a moment?
I wasn’t ready to let go of that feeling of resentment toward him. It had grown to be a part of me. The last thing he had given me was the rejection his declaration had fortified it in me. It was my protection, a reminder of how much another person could be allowed to take a bearing on my life, like a meteor crashing to earth, destroying everything upon impact. He was dangerous.
“Yes.” My voice croaked. Swallowing over the lump lodged in my throat, I attempted to speak again. “That would be the sensible thing to do.”
ChapterThirteen
Callum
Iwanted to taste her lips.
There was a moment I could’ve sworn between us that she might just have allowed me to.
She was right, the sensible thing to do was get in the car and leave, but I hadn’t wanted to be practical, not since seeing her swaying on that paint can in the shed with her top riding up a little to expose the creamy skin beneath it. And the words she was speaking, although innocent, in my deviant mind, I could imagine those same lips gasping in ecstasy beneath me.
What I had wanted more than my next breath was to have her invite me inside. I wanted to strip her naked from her rain-soaked clothing and warm her body with the actions of mine.
I had wrestled with my thoughts of her the entire time. Hammering nails into the boards only offered a slight reprieve, with my frustrations mounting when the bent nails had to be removed and redone.
A smile trickled across my lips at the thought of a stubborn Alina turning the fields. She was seriously beyond determined if she genuinely thought she could turn the acres by hand. Even her mother had used machinery to tend the fields. She may have had her idiosyncrasies about a lot of things, but the culturing and maintenance of the lavender fields had shown me a completely different side of the woman the townsfolk had dismissed and labeled as crazy.
* * *
My bike wheeled on its own after I dismounted, circling before crashing onto the lawn at the bottom of the stairs.
“Hi, Miss Simpson. Alina up yet?”
Today was Alina’s sixteenth birthday, and I had risen early to make it out to the estate before she had breakfast. I had the whole day planned, and it started with chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and ended with what I hoped to be our first kiss under the wisteria tree on the hill.
“Callum, you know Alina is a princess. She doesn’t rise until the servants wake her.” Miss Simpson had been arranging a bucket of lavender on the veranda, repositioning each sprig with expert fingers for the perfect placement. “Won’t you come sit by me for a moment, Callum?”
I cast my eyes to the second floor, where the curtains were still drawn. I had time. Alina liked to sleep late on weekends. She called Sunday the day for restoration, where the sun absolved the darkness of the previous days. Her quirky explanation for things always held my attention. It may have been the first thing I liked about her. Second to that were her eyes.
The saying about eyes being a window to the soul, well, it was true because Alina’s eyes were the door to a whole new world.
One I wanted to explore.
I set down my backpack of essentials, taking a seat on the top step.
“It’s her birthday today,” she said out loud, more to the flowers than to me.
“Yes, ma’am. I know.”
