AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I leaned my head into his fingers and touched his forearm, as much to anchor myself as him. “Just tell me when and where. I will be there.”
He straightened in his seat and leaned forward, his gaze intent on my mouth. He paused, then lifted his gaze to over my shoulder, then back to my face and shifted his posture to give me a hug.
Disappointment set in that he didn’t kiss me. And it must have shown on my face when he pulled back. He touched his fingertips to my lips. “I want to kiss you so bad. But…prying eyes.” He nodded toward the other side of the room. I didn’t turn to look, knowing full well what I’d see.
I rolled my lips inward, then eased my mouth into what I hoped was an understanding smile.
His grin was confirmation of my attempt. “Besides, I’m going to try to subscribe to yourwaiting makes everything sweetertheory. We’ll get there, honey. But we’re not going to cross the professional line we’ve drawn together. Can you wait?”
I pursed my lips against his fingers. “I’ll wait.”
His grin brought the light of day into the dimly lit bar. “I hate to end this evening, but it’s late and I have a song calling my name. Gonna head home and work on it.” He jumped up and dug his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulled out some folded bills, then dragged out his phone. He tapped on it a bit and then handed it to me. “Go ahead and send those selfies to yourself while I go settle out the bill and give Joel his paper and pen back.”
I took the phone, which was already opened to his photos. He picked up the sheets of paper that held his next hit and crammed them into the front pocket of his jeans. I looked up from sending the pictures in a text from his phone to mine and watched his sexy behind as he strutted to the bar.
My breath caught and held as he jutted his weight onto one solid leg and slipped his hand into his back pocket. He laughed at something Joel said, breaking the spell on me.
“Ready?” He returned to the table and took the phone from me.
I stood and gathered up my computer and camera. My phone pinged with the incoming text from his phone. I quickly saved the numbers under his name. “All set,” I replied.
He lifted a hand to wave goodbye to Joel, then settled his hand at the small of my back. The contact shimmered through me like a warm breeze. His hand remained in place all the way back to my vehicle. He waited by my side as I unlocked my doors and deposited my equipment in the bag I’d stashed behind the driver’s seat.
Callan held my car door as I climbed behind the wheel. “Do you want me to follow you home?” he asked.
“If it’s on your way, that’s fine. But not necessary.” I looked up from fastening my seat belt. “Thank you for offering, but I can make it home okay from here. It’s early still. Most of the drunk drivers won’t get on the road until later.”
An expression I couldn’t read crossed his face. He looked away for a moment, and when he glanced at me again, his face was neutral. “Just…drive carefully, okay? You can text me when you get home. Let me know you made it safely.”
Bemused, I turned over the ignition and nodded. “I will. Good luck with the song. Let me know when you’re ready to record and I’ll clear my schedule to meet you.”
Skimming his knuckles on my cheek, he whispered, “Good night, Catie-belle.” The door clunked shut and he move around the hood of the car toward his motorcycle.
As I pulled to the lot’s entrance, I glanced into my rearview mirror. Legs spread wide and hands jammed into his jeans pocket, Callan stood next to his bike. He continued to watch as I pulled onto the highway, heading for home.
In my view, the photoshoot had been more successful than I’d hoped for. I couldn’t wait to get home and open my software to create the perfect album cover. And he’d been perfect, too.
Callan wasn’t the only one moved by his muse. And the sooner I completed this contract with Bad Dog, the sooner I could get on with discovering just how incredible a real relationship with the sexy Callan Wilder could be.
8
CALLAN
Could an evening have been any more perfect?
As I cruised toward my home, I relived the details of our date. Okay, not a date, we weren’t at the point where we should call it that. But in my heart, I knew the quality time we’d spent together was far better than the last date I’d been on. I braked to take a corner, trying to recall when that might have been. Six months ago? Longer? The way my body had reacted to Catie’s, I suspected it had been significantly longer. Life in the last year was a blur, first of grief and then creative renewal.
Being at the park to take pictures with her, I saw the competent, professional side of Catie Marlowe. The way she handled her camera and directed my movements without making me uncomfortable or self-conscious.
She’d been right, the sunset colors had been out of this world, and she’d captured so many perfect images that I was certain there would be one ideal image. Once we got to Pour It On and reviewed the pictures she’d taken, my newfound respect for her talent had grown.
The pictures I’d taken, the selfies on the stairs, tugged at my consciousness. We looked good together. And that kiss. That was—
I shut down the thought, because the last thing I needed while riding my motorcycle was to relive that magical moment when our lips touched and explored. I couldn’t risk the distraction of the hard-on already swelling behind my zipper.Pay attention to the road, asshat. Shut that shit down, before you cause an accident.Plenty of time to unpack that memory later, while in the shower, or my lonely bed.
Then again, with the music and lyrics of a new song running through me, chances were good I wouldn’t be sleeping any time soon. With a forced exhale, I focused on driving the country roads toward my house.
I coasted my bike to a halt at the mammoth gates in front of the place I’d bought when my second album went platinum. Dad had helped me pick this beast out. We’d both loved the lake frontage and the dock where we could fish. And while the shoreline was captivating, I’d hated the gates on sight. Even thought about tearing them out and planting a couple live oak trees. However, based on Dad’s advice, I hadn’t giving in to the urge to haul down the excessive display of wealth and exclusivity those damn gates represented. He’d warned that I might want that security at some point in the future.
