Chapter 12
Twelve
Callie
After Lexi tells me I should be hitting on Peter, she leaves the kitchen with a wink.
Why the hell is my daughter trying to get me to go on a date with this man?
There has to be something she’s seeing that I don’t.
Oh well, I’m not going down that road. Getting settled is my top priority.
Finding a date isn’t even in the top ten list.
“This is all I could find.” Peter hands me a small box of cornbread mix.
I hold out my hand for the light and search for the use by date. “Well, at least it’s still good…barely. What do you eat with your chili if not cornbread?”
He shrugs and I swear his cheeks redden, but it’s dark and it may only be shadows. “Crackers. I don’t typically cook a lot of sides. It’s just me. Hell, I’d be eating leftovers right now if my sister hadn’t kept the whole pot I just made.”
“So, you’re only cooking because we’re here?” I feel bad that he’s doing things he doesn’t have to in order to accommodate us. He should have to do this whether we’re here or not. “We could have grabbed something easy before we left.”
He reaches out his hand and grasps my arms. “Callie, it’s fine. Don’t spiral. I have to eat anyway, so it’s not a big deal.” Maybe not to him, but I don’t like feeling like a burden.
Conrad always made it seem like everything I did was bothersome until I just stopped doing anything he didn’t want to do. I because a shell of myself and I’m still trying to find the woman buried deep inside.
“Yeah, but you wouldn’t have had to go through all this.” I wave the box of cornbread in front of him. “It’s too much.” Especially when you add in the fact he checked on us and brought us to his house.
He encircles my other arm with his free hand. “Look, Callie, I know you like to be independent and take care of yourself. You’ve been that way for as long as I can remember. But dammit, stop being so stubborn and let me help you.”
His fingers on my skin and the command in his voice sends warmth throughout my body. This shouldn’t be as attractive as it is. For fuck’s sake, I make the decision to keep him firmly in the off-limits category, and he takes charge of a situation for the first time in his life.
“Fine.” I roll my eyes in an attempt to hide how much of an effect, he’s having on me. “But you go to the living room and let me handle the rest of dinner.”
“But—” He argues, but I turn my back to him. I need to break contact and put some distance between us.
“I’m perfectly capable of stirring the chili when needed and I can find whatever ingredients I need.”
“Okay, but call me if you need help.” He feet shuffle along the floor, and I’m finally alone. I really need to the roads to clear sooner than later. If I spend this much time in a confined space with Peter, I don’t know if I’ll be able to shove aside my dormant feelings for long.
“Sure.” Little does he know, I have no intention of needing his help. Not if I want to keep my emotions in check.
“I’m going to bed.” Alexandra leans over to give me a hug and kiss on the cheek. How many teens are still close like that with their parents? I know for a fact I wasn’t. Miles wasn’t either.
“Goodnight, kiddo. I’ll see you in the morning.” I continue working on my crochet project. I’m not even sure what it’s going to be, but it’s doing its job of keeping my mind occupied.
The fire crackles beside me and this is the most peaceful I’ve felt in a long time. I wonder how hard it would be to add a fireplace to my house. If it’s too much work, maybe I’ll get one of those fake ones. I don’t know, but I’m loving the ambiance.
The door to the guest bedroom clicks shut.
It sounds loud in the stillness of the house.
I never realized how much noise everything makes until now.
I can hear Peter moving around in the restroom.
He’s doing his best to be as quiet as possible so he doesn’t disturb us.
Which is ridiculous since it’s his house, but it’s appreciated.
I should probably go to bed soon. Hopefully the roads are clear tomorrow and we can go home. Not that staying here has been horrible, but I like being surrounded by my own things. The perk of sleeping in Peter’s room is there’s also a fireplace.
There’s only a couple of stitches left in the current row to make. It feels like a good stopping point. I finish the row and gather my supplies to take with me. If I can’t fall asleep, I’ll be able to work on it until I do.
My sock covered feet don’t make a sound as I make my way to Peter’s room. The glow of my phone lighting the way. I don’t hear Peter in the restroom anymore, but the door is closed and the small light glows underneath. It should be safe to go in the room now.
Except I’m not, and I come to a screeching halt in the doorway. Peter is standing across the room…shirtless.
He has a shirt in his hand like he’s about to put it on. All I can do is stare. He’s definitely not the lean boy I remember. The muscle definition in his arms, and back, is new. It must be from whatever he does at the winery. If I had to guess, he lifts a lot of things.
The glow of the fire makes him look otherworldly. Or, I’m giving into every fantasy I had of him when I was the girl following him around. Right now, I can’t really tell. This probably wasn’t the best time to walk in. He joked about me wearing a bell, maybe he should as well.
At least I would have known he was out of the restroom. Seeing him like that isn’t something I’m not sure I can recover from. When did I turn into someone who longs for someone like that? The last time was when I started dating my ex-husband. Which is why watching Peter is not a good thing.
I take a step backward. Waiting in the living room until he comes out sounds like a much better idea. The crochet hook slips out of the yarn. I feel the cold metal against my arm before it falls to floor. Tinking sounds before it rolls a few inches and stops.
Maybe I’ll get lucky and he didn’t hear it. I want to pick up the hook, but I’m scared of what I might see when I stand. Instead, I stare at the metal stick like it’ll magically levitate into my hands.
I feel his eyes on me before I direct my attention to him. Peter’s focus is on me. The intensity as if he can see right through me, to my very core. “Are you okay?”
“Huh?” I know his lips are moving, but I can’t piece together the words he’s saying.
“Callie, are you okay?” He reaches out to grab my hand and I flinch at the gesture. Not because of anything he did, of course. But I know if we connect I won’t want to let go. All the years of pining for him rush to the surface, and it’s taking everything in me to push it down.
“Yeah.” I shake my head to clear my thoughts. “I, uh, didn’t expect you to be in here. You scared me.” God, I hope he can’t tell how much his mere presence affects me.
“Doesn’t feel so great, does it?” He smirks and that brings me back to reality. Being mocked isn’t exactly my favorite thing in the world. Even worse is when it comes from him.
“Would you put a shirt on?” I nod toward his naked chest. Hopefully the disinterested sound in my voice will come off as bravado. It’s only then I remember Lexi is down the hall, and I lower my voice, “please.”
Instead of doing what I asked, he leans against the wall. “You didn't seem to mind when we were younger. Hell, I spent half the summer without a shirt.”
His deep voice is somehow quiet in the room. Just act like his very being doesn’t affect me, easy. Except it’s not.
“Yeah, well, things change. Will you put your shirt on?”
He untangles the shirt in his hands and slides it over his head. “Better?”
I don’t respond. Bending down I pick up my crochet hook and gather the yarn closer to my body. He doesn’t move either. Both of us are standing our ground, unwilling to give an inch.
I refuse to relent to him. Even if it is his house.
He stares at me, waiting to see what I'm going to do. When I don’t move a muscle, he sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “Well, I guess you're ready for bed?”
“Yes.” I pull myself up taller. There now I’m letting him know he intimidates me in the best way possible. “I am ready for bed. If you don't mind.”
He rolls his eyes and pushes away from the wall before walking toward me. “Well, then, I guess I'll see you in the morning.”
“I guess so.”
Without another word he brushes past me and makes his way to the living room. I swear I hear a faint “Good night, Callie.”
I should have just kept my mouth shut. Or, waited until he came into the living room before I got up. But no. Now I'm going to be having dreams about Peter shirtless for the rest of the night. How do I get myself into these situations?
“Mama.” Lexi’s voice is a loud whisper beside me.
For a second, I think I'm dreaming. I also forget where I am and it takes a few moments to register that I’m in Peter’s bed.
“Mom, get up.”
“Lexi?” I feel around in the bed searching for her. “Is something wrong?”
“No, Mom, nothing's wrong. I need you to get up, breakfast is ready.
“Oh, okay.” I want nothing more than to go back to sleep. Dreams of how things could have played out differently last night ran on repeat. Revisiting that wouldn’t be so bad.
“Come on, before it gets cold. Peter told me to wake you up because you don't like to eat cold eggs.”
Wow. I can't believe he remembered that about me. Cold eggs are disgusting. After all these years, he still knows me so well.
“Fine, fine.” I roll out of bed and a sharp sting of cold hits my feet as I place them on the floor. “Hey, can you reach in my bag and get me some socks?”
“Yep.” She bounces off the bed and rushes over to my bag. “I’m surprised you didn't sleep with them on last night. It was cold.”
“Didn't you have your heater on?”
She tosses me a pair of socks.
“Yes, but it only does so much. Plus, I was scared to keep it up high, because, you know, house fires.”
“That's a good point.” I slip on the thick socks and follow her out of the room.
Peter is sitting on the recliner, pulled close to the coffee table. “You look like you slept well last night.”
“I did, thank you.”
Lexi laughs and points at my hair.
I reach my hands up to see what they're talking about, and I'm glad I didn’t look in a mirror. Mortification that my daughter let me walk out of the room like that courses through my veins. Regardless of how I feel, or don't feel, about Peter.
“You probably should have taken a brush through that.” She keeps giggling like it’s the funniest thing in the world.
“You could have warned me.” I feel Peter’s eyes on me, but I refuse to acknowledge his gaze.
She shrugs before taking a seat on the sofa and patting the spot next to her. In my defense, Peter has probably seen worse when it comes to my hair. But still, that is not something I want him seeing when we’re adults. At least, not anytime soon.
What in the world am I talking about? There shouldn't be an anytime soon. There's no relationship. No Peter. Nothing. He is off limits, and I will not go down that rabbit hole again.
“So, Mom?” Lexi asks before taking a bite of her eggs. “How do you feel about snow angels?”
“Um, I don’t generally. It’s cold.”
“Oh.” Lexi looks towards the window then back at me. “How do you feel about them in practice?”
“Why do I have to make snow angels with you? Isn’t that something you can do on your own?”
“Yeah, but Mom,” Lexi sighs. “It's more special when you come out with me.”
I should be grateful she wants to spend the time with me, and I am, but I also don't like being cold. The last thing I want to do is make snow angels in Peter’s front yard.
I noticed him studying the both of us. “Well, if she won't make them with you, I will.” He nods toward Lexi. I used to do them with my brothers and sisters all the time. We’d see whose angel was the biggest. My baby sister, Piper, would always get mad when hers was the smallest. She's the baby of the family and didn't realize she wasn't quite as tall as the rest of us.”
“That's funny.” Lexi snorts and continues eating.
I shouldn't be annoyed Peter’s offering to do this with my daughter. He’s giving me an out. But it makes me feel like a terrible mom for not wanting to do this small request.
“Okay, after we eat breakfast, we can bundle up, and make snow angels.”
“Yes.” Lexi holds her hand in the air and Peter gets her a high five.
I’m pretty sure both of them just played me. I guess they’re also getting a surprise snowball fight.