Chapter 4
Chapter
Four
CALLISTA
“ A bsolutely not, Shawn. Why can’t Suzanne go to the meet and greet? This clearly falls under the category of wifely duties.”
I stage my protest from the comfort of my couch, wrapped in my softest sweats and a fluffy blanket. If my friend thinks I’m moving from this position, he’s lost his bloody mind.
“She’s got a miserable cold. Apparently, everyone at daycare is sick and now, so is Suzanne.” He releases a heavy sigh into the phone, and I wait for the inevitable guilt trip to begin. “Don’t make me go alone.”
“You’ve attended tons of these parties alone. Why do you suddenly need an escort?”
“Because, there are certain doctors who will usurp my entire evening, and I can’t be held responsible for the copious amounts of alcohol I’ll have to consume to put up with their incessant blathering.”
Shawn is unrelenting, which leaves me two choices. I can continue engaging in this fruitless argument for the next hour, or agree to attend the medical soiree as his pint-sized bodyguard .
With a groan, I cave to my friend’s demand. “You owe me.”
A happy whoop sounds from the other end of the phone. So glad I could make his night. “When have I not owed you, Callista? Put it on my tab.”
“Do you ever plan to pay your tab?” I ask the question in jest, knowing full well that neither of us will ever be out of debt to the other.
Such is the joy, and price, of friendship.
Shawn chuckles. “It will be paid in full by the fifth of never. Does that work?”
“Sure,” I grumble.
“Come on, we’ll have a good time.”
“Or wind up snookered.”
“Either one works for me. I’ll pick you up at seven.”
I heave out a sigh and toss my phone on the coffee table. My plans for the evening included cookies and binge watching Law and Order.
A fancy medical party never played into the script.
Seems the script got a rewrite.
Time to get ready for this shindig. With a final grunt, I shrug off the blanket and head for my bedroom. I scan the contents of my closet, poking through the assorted dresses hanging in a line like neat soldiers. I haven’t worn anything beyond loungewear or jeans since Charlie’s funeral.
Here’s hoping my clothes still fit. Hey, a steady diet of ice cream and crying can make you a bit soft about the middle.
True to his word, my best friend stands outside my door at seven on the dot. “You look lovely, Calli.”
I eye my emerald cocktail dress, unsure if I look good or that I’m trying too hard. “I really hoped yoga pants would be acceptable attire. When you told me I had to wear heels, you threw off my entire game.”
“It’ll do you good to get out for a bit.”
“Ah, the truth comes out,” I declare, grabbing my coat from the hall closet. “Suzanne isn’t sick, is she? This was all a ruse to force me into commingling with the living.”
Shawn, never one to back down from a challenge, pulls out his phone. “She is indeed sick. I can call her, and you can hear her nasally squeak for yourself. She’s likely sleeping, but since you don’t believe me?—”
“Put your phone away. I’ll make an exception for you. Consider yourself lucky I like you.”
It’s a short drive to the restaurant, a five-star deal that I occasionally attended with Charlie’s banking buddies. If I remember correctly, the food is top notch. The wine list? Even better.
Besides, Shawn is right. I need to start wading back into the world again. This dinner is a harmless way to start.
We stroll into the banquet room, and I plaster a smile on my face. Although I don’t know a soul here, save for Shawn, it’s important to play the part. I played that role for years with Charlie.
I’ve never been comfortable in large crowds, choosing to seek solace in a darkened corner or balcony, where the din was manageable. A quick glance tells me there are no balconies available. Bad luck.
But there is something else.
Or rather, someone .
Across the room, looking devastatingly dapper in a navy suit, is Dr. Keegan Russo. I swear, there isn’t an outfit the man doesn’t fill out to perfection.
“Look who it is,” Shawn murmurs at my side, indicating toward the illustrious Baby Maker. “Have you met with him yet? ”
“I’m sure your wife told you I had.”
“Yes, but she didn’t tell me any of the good stuff. I knew I’d have to hit you up for it directly.”
My eyes widen at his brazen innuendo. “What good stuff are you expecting? He examined me in the most professional of manners.”
“I heard you had coffee together.”
I whirl around, my gaze narrowing. That was a piece of information I didn’t release to his better half. “How do you know that?”
Shawn shrugs, accepting a glass of champagne from the tray. “He mentioned it. I saw him at a meeting earlier this week.”
“Right,” I mumble, unwilling to make anything out of the disclosure. It’s just a coincidence that Keegan mentioned me—a cordial exchange between two doctors who know the same woman. Totally innocent. “I’m going to the bar. I think something stiffer than champagne is in order if I’m to survive the evening. Do you need anything?”
“I’m good. Shall I walk with you?”
Before I can answer, a doctor cuts into our chat, and I wave them off before disappearing into the crowd. I’m not sure if that’s one of the usurpers Shawn warned me about, but he’s on his own until I return with liquid reinforcements.
I stroll over to the bar, casting glances in Keegan’s direction every few seconds. I can’t help myself. The man is decadently handsome.
“What’ll it be, miss?” The bartender places a napkin in front of me with a nod.
“A glass of Pouilly-Fuissé, please.”
I glance to my left again, but Keegan is gone. Oh well, it was a delightful view while it lasted.
“Fancy meeting you here.”
My cheeks flame as I maintain my focus straight ahead. I have to wonder if the man noticed my obtuse ogling. “Dr. Russo. Keep it quiet. I’m undercover.”
He sidles closer, and I grin, still unable to meet his unnerving gaze. “Spying on the medical community, are we?”
“Someone has to keep you blokes in line. You’re known to be terribly brazen when left to your own devices.” I offer a smile of thanks to the bartender as he sets down my glass, before turning to face the handsome doctor. “How are you?”
“Better now.” He glances away, but not before I detect a faint hint of color crawl up his cheeks. “What are you doing here, Calli?”
I really love how he says my name. “I came with Shawn. Suzanne is home sick with their daughter, so I’m his stand-in.”
His eyes rove the length of my body, and I’m thrilled I took the extra time to look pretty. “You look amazing. Of course, you always do.”
“What a load of bollocks,” I laugh. “This is just the first time you’ve seen me out of yoga gear.”
“Something to be said for yoga gear.”
“Yes. It’s great for practicing yoga.”
“It’s also great for showcasing knockout curves.” He slips a finger beneath his collar and clears his throat. “Sorry. Had to be said.”
“So glad you did.” I’m also very glad to know he feels that way.
“Aren’t you going to comment?” He motions to his face, drawing my full attention to the beard.
“Figures that it’s grown in perfectly.” What I fail to mention is that Keegan’s neatly trimmed beard only ups the ante in the sexiness department. Not that the man needs any help. He would have to be blind to miss the appreciative glances shot in his direction from every corner of the room.
Although, it appears he’s stag tonight. Not a hot brunette in sight .
How childish are you, Callista?
Apparently, very, because I’m thrilled he doesn’t have a date on his arm.
“You approve?”
“I do. You look very handsome.” I widen my eyes at the smirk decorating his face. “I’m stopping there. I refuse to vomit a boatload of compliments on you tonight.”
He snaps his fingers, chuckling. “It’s my turn, anyway.”
“I’m ready when you are.” My cheeks redden at the unintended intimation, so I focus my gaze toward my best friend, hoping to squelch the warmth flooding my body. I blame the flush on the wine in my hand and not the devilishly good looking man by my side. “For someone who claimed he didn’t want to attend alone, Shawn is certainly enjoying that conversation.” I motion across the room to where my friend stands speaking to a most animated man, his hands flying about in all variety of gestures.
“Shawn better be careful. He might accidentally get clocked. Dr. Catalano is quite verbose in his commentary. Also, I don’t blame your friend for wanting a date for the evening. Especially when that date is you.”
I can’t hold back the smile crossing my face as I press my hand against his chest. “You’re very good at that.”
“What?”
“Paying compliments.” I hold up my hand when he opens his mouth to argue my words. “I’m serious. They’re sincere. Witty, even. But without a hint of saccharine overload.”
“I suppose I have my moments.”
“I’m sure you have plenty.”
A fellow attendee jostles us, and Keegan moves closer, crowding my space. Not that I mind. There’s such a familiarity in his nearness. “You did say it was my turn to dole out the compliments.”
“Only if you mean them. ”
He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, and my breath catches at the intimacy of the gesture. “With you, I mean every word.”
I grip the edge of the bar, feeling like a schoolgirl again—all fluttery and full of butterflies.
I quite like the emotion. Much more of it and I’ll have to scope out a few dark corners for an entirely different purpose.
“Are you having a good time or do you secretly detest these shindigs, too? Shawn calls them a necessary evil.”
Keegan shrugs, sipping his drink. “I’ve had worse. Like I said, the night is looking up since I spotted you.”
I lean my elbow on the bar and chew my bottom lip, biting back a smile. “How are you not married?”
My abrupt question catches him off-guard, and he sputters his drink.
“Careful, Keegan. You don’t want to suffer one of my coffee mishaps,” I giggle.
“That is such a random question.”
“Not really. I’m just wondering how you avoided it thus far. You’re quite the catch.”
“Maybe it’s because I don’t want to be caught.”
His eyes twinkle with amusement, but his words sadden me. He doesn’t believe in love—a concept I adore. “Ah, I see. The more, the merrier, huh?”
“Not exactly. You think I’m a total player, don’t you?”
Yes, and I hate that idea because that means you’re off-limits. Or you should be, even though a night of wild and crazy sex might be exactly what the doctor ordered. Wait, what?
I shake my head, trying to keep my wild imagination in check. “Not a total one. You have many redeeming qualities, your flattery skills among them. Although, I think you’d actually be great husband material.”
I mean the statement as a generality, but judging by his widened eyes and another slight sputter in his drink, it came out as anything but. “Are you implying something?”
“Not for me,” I cajole, chuckling as I once again blather on like an idiot. “Trust me, Doc, we both know I’m not your type. You needn’t worry with me bothering you about matrimony.”
He runs a hand over his chin and focuses his gaze on the mirror behind the bar. “Why do I feel like I missed out on an opportunity just now?”
“You did. I am pretty damn amazing.”
Those azure orbs focus on me again, and I’m acutely aware of the proximity of our bodies, as the space between us diminishes with each passing minute. “You are indeed incredible. I’ll make you a deal, Callista. If I ever change my mind on the subject of marriage, you’ll be the first person I call.”
I fan myself, shooting him a smirk. “Careful. You might sweep me off my feet with such a romantic proposition.”
But instead of volleying back another sarcastic edged retort, he inches ever closer, ducking his head close to my ear. “I can be romantic. You’ll just have to wait and see for yourself.”
My heart pounds like a locomotive, and for a second, I worry I might pass out. What a delicious proposal.
Another jostle from an eager drinker wrenches us from our lust infused haze, and I let loose with a laugh. An honest to God, genuine laugh. “Figures someone would break the mood as the conversation got interesting.”
Keegan leans back against the bar, a smile splitting his gorgeous face. “Now see? That right there made tonight worth it. Your laugh is the most amazing sound.”
My thoughts drift back over the years to when Charlie uttered almost the exact same words. But, for once, my heart isn’t heavy when I think of him. Rather, I know he’d be thrilled to hear me laugh again.
All thanks to the handsome doctor by my side. I’m going to have to thank Shawn for dragging me out of the house. Seeing Keegan again is the highlight of my week.
“Keegey,” a high-pitched voice whines over my shoulder, “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
My high from our flirtatious exchange deflates at the woman’s words. I know, without turning, who’s behind me.
Keegan’s date. His not-girlfriend girlfriend. The woman who will warm his sheets later tonight, and if memory serves, looks like an exotic version of Barbie. Except with bigger tits.
Did you really think a man like Dr. Russo would attend a function alone?
“You found me,” Keegan replies, downing the remaining liquid in his glass. “Callista, this is my friend, Megan.”
Swallowing against the lump in my throat, I turn, my gaze inadvertently homing in on her breasts. It’s accidental, I swear, though the low cut of her dress suggests she’s hedging her bets on every ogle.
Fuck, but she’s even prettier in person—all smooth skin and shiny hair. Not a wrinkle or enlarged pore in sight.
I hate her immediately. Yes, she might be an angel, but I don’t care. I hate her.
“Pleasure to meet you.” Tearing my gaze from Megan’s personal fun bags, I extend my hand, which she grips with the strength of a toddler. “That’s a beautiful dress.”
“Thank you,” she coos, batting her false lashes in Keegan’s direction. “See? Your friend likes my dress.”
“So do I, but it’s a bit … revealing for a medical dinner.”
She wraps her hand around Keegan’s elbow. “Not for later, though.”
Keegan rolls his eyes as a muscle jumps in his jaw, clearly less than thrilled by Megan’s remark.
But I read the woman loud and clear. Back away from her man. Immediately .
It's a smart idea, yet also terrible and awful in equal measure.
I fidget, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. Time to make my escape. “I’d better go find Shawn.”
“You don’t have to leave,” Keegan replies, his gaze locked on me.
But I do, because this is painful. Physically painful.
Time to slip on my cheeky persona. “Come on, what kind of bodyguard would I be if I left him alone all evening?”
Megan gasps as her gaze looks me up and down. “You’re a bodyguard? But you’re so small. Do you know karate or something?”
Dear God, the village really is missing their idiot.
Choking back a laugh, I swallow hard, noting that Keegan is teetering on the same edge as me.
The woman must be incredible in the sack because Keegan is far too intelligent to tolerate much conversation with her.
“I’m a yoga instructor,” I manage. “That, and an acupuncturist and massage therapist.”
Megan looks from me to Keegan, who’s chortling to himself over the inanity of the situation. “I don’t get it.”
I’m through torturing the poor girl. Placing a hand on her arm, I offer a gentle smile. “It was a joke. My friend wanted protection from overly exuberant colleagues, so that’s my job for the evening.”
A breath flies from Megan’s mouth and I see a spark of anger in her eyes. “It wasn’t funny.”
And I need to go. Now.
“Quite right.” I smooth my hands along my dress, my palms clammy. “Have a good evening, you two.”
Wading into the sea of doctors, I search for somewhere—anywhere—to hide.
“Callista, there you are. ”
I whirl on my heel and throw my arms around a surprised Shawn, who returns the hug after a few awkward moments.
“Are you okay?”
With a stilted smile, I gaze up at my friend. “I don’t know.”
“Another glass of wine?”
“Please.”
Shawn and I settle at a table, spending the next hour engaged in small talk about the latest medical advances, golf and sailing.
Somebody shoot me.
Thankfully, my upbringing allows me to muddle through the requisite small talk, although I detest every blasted second. One thing is certain, I’m not the same woman as before Charlie passed.
I’m less tolerant of bullshit.
Time is precious and wasting it discussing things that don’t interest me with people who won’t recall my name tomorrow is not my idea of a good time.
My time with Keegan, however, was wonderful. Until his gorgeous arm candy showed up.
I excuse myself and head for the ladies’ room, grateful to dodge yet another analysis of country club golf courses. Standing at the mirror, I push a few stray hairs from my face, my mind flitting to Keegan’s gentle touch when his hand grazed against my cheek.
The bathroom door opens and I suck in a breath, steeling myself as Megan joins me at the sink.
She opens her purse and pulls out a lipstick, her gaze focused on her reflection in the mirror. “You seem rather close with Dr. Russo.”
“Not at all. I’ve only met him a few times.”
She pivots, her hand on her hip. “And when was that?”
I understand she’s claiming him as her own, and to be fair, she is intimate with the man. But I will not be chastised by a spoiled, overgrown child just because I had the audacity to speak to a fellow human being.
Fine, we were flirting a bit, but in my defense, I didn’t know she was there.
Does that make it right, though? We’ll go with no on that answer.
I finish drying my hands and toss the towel in the garbage. “Seeing as how I’m a patient of his, at his office. Are we done here?”
Her face blanches under her makeup, and I feel a moment’s pity for the girl.
Then she opens her mouth again. “I saw you two talking. It was a bit too friendly for my taste. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but it won’t work. He’s leaving with me.”
Sometimes beauty really is superficial.
“Not to worry. I’ll stay away from him, with the exception of my office visits.” I turn on my heel and head for the door, but Megan has to have the last word.
“Make sure you do.”
I’m too old for this shit. Too old and far too tired. I whirl around, blood coursing through my body. “I said that previous statement as a courtesy to you, but I am a grown ass woman and no one will tell me who I can fraternize with. If he doesn’t want to speak to or see me again, let him tell me that himself. But I have a feeling Dr. Russo is not one to be toyed with, especially when it comes to his patients. Goodnight.”
I stalk down the hallway, my fists clenching and unclenching as I hold back the desire to punch Megan in the mouth. Her perfect, pouty mouth.
Note to self: look up when walking down strange corridors. Otherwise, you end up slamming into people. Right into their muscled chest.
“Calli, are you okay? ”
I glare up at Keegan and shake my head, the fury still brimming in my body. “I’m fucking amazing. Can’t you tell?”
“What in the world happened?”
“Why don’t you ask your date? She has a real problem with me speaking to you.”
Under normal circumstances, I would hold my tongue, but I’m livid. Right now, no one is safe.
His eyes narrow as his grip on my arms remains strong. “What the hell did she say to you?”
The sensible side of me comes into play and I realize it’s not worth the drama. Huffing out a sigh, I shirk from his grasp. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it. Just … maybe send my file to one of the other doctors in the practice.”
Keegan steps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why would I do that?”
“Better that way.” My frustration gives way to an overwhelming feeling of anxiety as tears prick my lids. “Have a good night.”
I walk back to where Shawn is seated and manage to smile and nod my way through the meal, noting how both Keegan and his date are noticeably absent.
They’re doing one of two things: fighting or fucking. I know which one my money is on.
So, I imbibe another two drinks. What the hell, right? I may nurse a hangover in the morning but I need to loosen up.
Have some damn fun without being told I’m overstepping my bounds.
Too bad it’s not working.
That whole concept of hating crowded affairs? It didn’t bother me until Megan showed up. Keegan provided a buffer from the noise. Now, the room is suffocating, and I need to escape. Reclaim my balance. My sanity.
When the first speaker walks to the front of the room, I seize my chance. Hell, I’m not a doctor, so it’s not like I’d understand a word they were saying.
They won’t miss me.
Ducking into the hallway, I hustle toward a door, finding a small patio with a heater. Bingo.
I huddle close to the artificial warmth, thankful I didn’t wear hairspray or false lashes, for fear of them going up like a blowtorch. My sips of wine are now swallows, as I suck in a few deep breaths and allow my heart rate to settle.
It’s silly, really. Letting my emotions get all tangled up in a man. An unavailable man. A gorgeous, sexy, unavailable man.
What is wrong with me?
No doubt Shawn and Suzanne will be thrilled. At least I’m looking, or I was until Megan reminded me to keep my distance.
Now I get to start all over with another doctor and pray they’re as kind and knowledgeable as Keegan Russo.
Hopefully, they’re also eighty with giant pockmarks and terrible breath. That would be helpful.
And I’ll probably never see the handsome doctor again, which should make me feel better.
It doesn’t.
The door to the patio swings open, and I hear a huff of frustration. “There you are.”
Twirling around, I watch Keegan stride toward me, the aggravation evident on his face. “Were you looking for me?”
“I was.”
I glance toward the door, certain Megan will make an appearance at any moment. “Are you okay?”
“Nowhere near.”
After shooting another glance at the exit, I focus on Keegan, his gaze intent on the heater.
Time to lighten the mood. That, and I’m a few glasses in at this point .
“What the hell did I miss in the last five minutes? Did Megan suffer a wardrobe malfunction in front of the esteemed guests?”
Keegan shakes his head at my words. Seems all my jokes are missing the mark tonight.
“I’m sorry. Just trying to break the tension, but if you need to talk, I’ll gladly listen.” I rest my hand on his forearm, desperate to coax a smile from the frown Keegan is currently sporting.
But his stare remains locked on the orange flame of the heater as he rubs his hands together.
“I was fine. Life made sense. Now, nothing makes sense.” His tone is harried, erratic, the words spitting from his mouth with the force of bullets.
Holy hell, I pray Keegan isn’t on the verge of a nervous breakdown, because I am in no way qualified to handle this situation.
Just look at my life.
Truthfully, I feel only a few steps removed from one most days myself. “Are you and Megan having trouble?”
“My trouble is that I have Megan.” He winces at his words. “That sounds terrible, doesn’t it? Maybe I am a player, just like you said.”
“She’s beautiful, if that’s any consolation.”
“So you’ve said. A few times.”
I stumble over my thoughts, unsure of how to respond. I know, as a girl’s girl, that I should provide a list of Megan’s attributes, coaxing Keegan off his emotional ledge and back into her arms.
That’s what I should do. What I want to do is provide a plethora of reasons why they’re a terrible match. All the ways they don’t fit together.
And it’s not just because Megan was less than enamored with me. No doubt I’d be the same way if Keegan was mine .
Plus, Megan isn’t wrong. Despite every effort, I feel something for Keegan Russo. And those feelings are overruling any common sense I still possess. That and the few glasses of wine I’ve consumed.
I just didn’t realize my affections were that obvious, and if Megan picked up on them, no doubt Dr. Russo has, as well.
Since there is no way I plan on divulging my crush, I take a sip of wine and bring humor to the table one last time. “I don’t know the woman, Keegan, so I can’t offer a better observation beyond her looks. Tremendous tits, though.”
That did it.
A laugh bubbles up from Keegan’s chest, his hand running over his glorious beard. “They’re ridiculous. She had them redone—not done— redone last year. They’re obscene. Puts Dolly Parton to shame.”
“Men don’t seem to mind.” I drop my gaze to my breasts. Hell, I always thought they were pretty damn nice. Perky and more than a handful. Now, compared to his friend , they’re little more than bee stings.
“I prefer natural. Not that Megan actually cares what I think. Her body, her rules. Those were her exact words before her most recent stint with the plastic surgeon. Hence her duck lips.”
“I didn’t notice them. Too focused on the tits.”
Keegan rakes his eyes down my frame, and my skin heats from the bold desire burning in their depths. Then he takes the wine from my hand and helps himself to a sip. “I like yours better.”
The words hang between us, the air sparking with restrained passion, any cold long forgotten by his statement.
My breath catches as my lungs struggle to find air, my mouth searching for a quick-witted retort. “Keegan?—”
He releases a frustrated groan, scrubbing his face with his hand. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, Calli. That was crass.”
I want to meet his gaze. That unrelenting, intoxicating gaze. But I know if I do, I’ll be lost to the moment, so I opt to focus on the ground. A safe place, devoid of emotion. “I can handle crass. The bigger question is, did you mean it?”
He steps closer, slipping a finger under my chin and forcing me to look at him. “Absolutely.”
“My breasts can’t double as flotation devices.” I’m shocked by my brazen comments. Maybe being cooped up in the house for too long has knocked loose my last bits of sense.
He edges closer still, a small gasp escaping my lips as my back hits the wall. “I still like yours better. I like everything about you better.”
“I like everything about you, too.” The words leave my mouth before I can fathom the ramifications of such a statement.
It’s just like last week, except without my dog meddling. This time, there’s nothing but the darkness and the fire building between us.
He slips one hand around my waist, his other sliding along my jaw to cup my head. Then he kisses me. No warning, no seeking permission.
He claims my mouth, his tongue pushing past my lips in complete possession. The blood pounds in my ears as I cling to him, spurring him further.
Keegan tangles his fingers in my hair, daring me to pull away. Break the moment.
Not a chance in hell, Doc.
Instead, I scratch my nails down his chest, daring to skate my palm along his erection. He bucks against my hand as the energy heightens.
With an almost violent groan, he presses his body against me, trapping me in the embrace. One hand holds my jaw as his tongue owns every centimeter of my mouth. His other hand? Dips under my skirt, his dexterous fingers pushing aside my g-string before sliding inside me.
Once again, he’s not asking. He’s taking.
This is Keegan laying his claim. And I’m letting him. I’m desperate for more as I grind against his palm, the small moans that escape my throat swallowed by his kiss.
He pushes a second finger inside me, and I clench around him, my fingers curling in his belt loops, fumbling at his buckle. The fire inside me is growing by the second, and I need him to quench it. The ache is growing unbearable.
I need him.
I need him now .
Without warning, Keegan breaks off the kiss, his eyes wild, his breath coming in short pants. “I shouldn’t have done that. It was totally unprofessional. I don’t know what came over me. I’m so sorry. I—I have to go.”
“Keegan, please?—”
But my words don’t reach him as he spins on his heel, storming toward the door.
He pauses before opening it, his entire body rigid. “I’m so sorry, Calli.”
Then he’s gone.
One apology would have sufficed. He didn’t need to keep reiterating all the ways our kiss was wrong. Especially when it felt so right.
I lean against the wall, willing back the tears, my internal monologue chiding me for behaving like a wanton hussy.
So much for manners or class, Callista.
After a quick stop in the bathroom to reapply lipstick and straighten my hair, I hurry into the banquet room. I know I’m Shawn’s wing woman, but I need to call an early end to the evening. I can’t bear to look at Keegan’s face and see dread or disappointment about our earlier tryst. Figures. The first man I kiss since Charlie’s death runs away as if I have the plague. Maybe I’ve lost my touch. It has been almost two years.
I don’t get it. His body reacted to me. He wanted it, too. Until … he didn’t.
Great. Now I doubt not only my sexual prowess but my kissing ability. Plus, I kissed a man who’s dating another woman.
A woman who warned me against just this sort of behavior.
I’m going to have to apologize to her. To him.
Or maybe I can get some plastic surgery of my own, change my name, move to Nepal and raise goats for the remainder of my life.
“Callista, there you are. I’m sorry to do this, but we have to go.” Shawn offers a rueful grin and a shrug, and I damn near launch myself into his arms when I hear them.
“Thank God. I mean, what happened? Is everything okay at home?”
“My daughter is vomiting everywhere, and Suzanne is miserably sick. They need help.”
I squeeze his arm, forcing a smile. “Yes, they do. Let’s get our coats.”
“I’m sorry I ruined your evening.”
“You didn’t.” It’s true. Shawn didn’t ruin anything. I did, by allowing my unrestrained hormones to seize on a moment of passion. Worse, I also destroyed the fledgling friendship between Keegan and me, all because I couldn’t keep my hands to myself. No, they were far too busy trying to rid the man of his pants.
Note to self: don’t drink wine and kiss handsome doctors.
Bad idea. Very bad idea.
“Are you okay?” Shawn questions, his brow furrowed.
“I’m just worried about your family. I hate that they’re sick.” I catch sight of Keegan across the room as we make our way to the door, his blue eyes fixed on my countenance. Burning holes into me, much the same way his kisses burned holes into the armor I placed around my heart.
Megan is nowhere to be found. Another bonus as I perform my walk of shame.
I force a polite nod in his direction before slipping out the door.
So much for wading back into the world. Neither one of us is ready for the other.
A few days later, I’m perched in my typical evening location, a tub of ice cream on my lap. No, I haven’t entirely fallen off the ‘rejoin society’ wagon, but I am taking a hell of a detour.
Chocolate chip cookie dough helps.
My phone buzzes next to me. Suzanne. Here’s hoping my friend is feeling human again. “Are you better?”
“Finally. I thought I was dying a few times there. Of course, Shawn offered no sympathy. The joys of marrying a doctor.”
An innocent statement. Totally devoid of malicious intent. But it sends my ill-received kiss with Keegan screeching back into the forefront of my mind. Glancing down, I stab at the ice cream in the tub. About halfway gone. It might last the evening.
“I wanted to broach a topic with you.”
Christ. I’m not in the mood for broaching. “Go ahead.”
“I showed my friend photos of our trip from a few years back. The one to Maine? Well, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.”
“So, you were showing photos to a blind man. Don’t know how that works, Suzanne. ”
“Funny. He got divorced last year and was hoping you might be interested in going to dinner.”
Nope, half a tub isn’t nearly enough. “Why?” Normally, I would force some level of decorum, but I’m fresh out tonight.
“He’s a hell of a guy.”
“So are tons of men out there, but I don’t want to date them, either. I don’t even know what he looks like.”
A beep sounds on my phone not ten seconds later. The bitch was ready and waiting for that retort. Okay, he’s good-looking. Very good looking, actually.
Now I have to figure out another excuse. “I don’t think I’m ready.”
“You might not be, but you still need to give it a shot.”
Oh, luv, I tried that the other night, and it was a bomb of a performance. “We might have nothing in common.”
“You both like the same music, yoga, and James Dean.”
“This is not enough to go on, Suzanne.”
“Please. Just one dinner.”
Releasing a huff, I pull myself upright. “He’s bugging you, isn’t he? So, to get him off your ass, I’m now relegated to going to dinner with him. Is that it?”
“I’ll owe you forever.” Now we’ve reached the bargaining part of tonight’s show, folks.
“You and your husband already have a tab as long as my arm.”
“What else are you doing Friday night, Calli?”
The sad truth? Nothing. Not one damn thing. “Fine. Have him meet me at the bistro at seven.”