Chapter 16 River
River
The bed is assembled, and Nora’s sleeping soundly in her new room.
Callie stands beside me with her arms folded tightly, as if she’s bracing for impact.
I don’t blame her for being cautious. After blurting out how much I’ve always wanted her, you could have knocked the woman over with a feather.
And she’s still reeling.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, wanting to turn her attention to something else.
I picked her up this morning and couldn’t help but notice that she hasn’t eaten a single bite all day. Not even when we made a pitstop to grab Nora some nuggets and fries on the way to my place.
I shoot her a sideways glance.
That ends now.
Callie needs to take better care of herself. The woman should be eating well and getting enough sleep. She can’t keep running on fumes.
What she deserves is a man who will put her first.
Every damn time.
Every damn day.
Little does she know that she’s found one.
She might not think there’s a difference between me and her ex, but I’m going to show her exactly how wrong she is about that assumption. Zane and I are nothing alike.
Maybe early in my career, I let the fame and money go to my head. I hung around with players who made headlines every time they stepped onto the ice or walked into a club. It didn’t take long for me to straighten myself out.
All right, fine… if you want to get technical, my twin sister, Willow, might’ve had a hand in knocking some sense into my head. Getting to be a good role model for my niece and nephew were just the icing on the cake.
She shrugs. “Maybe a little.”
“Come on,” I say. “We can talk more over dinner.”
She glances toward Nora one last time, as if reluctant to leave her alone, before following me into the kitchen.
Her gaze roams over the interior. It’s all open space, clean lines, and windows that spill light across the hardwood floors.
There are gray marble counters, chrome fixtures, and glass cabinets.
As much as I want to know what she thinks of my home, I keep the question buried inside. She’s already a nervous ball of energy. I don’t need to freak her out by telling her that we could find a new place, one she likes better.
“Wine?” I ask, congratulating myself on keeping the convo light as I grab a glass from the cabinet.
“That would probably be a good idea. I need something to take the edge off.”
Once the wine is poured, I pass her a half-filled glass before leaning against the island and letting my gaze linger on her just long enough for color to bloom in her cheeks.
She can’t be totally ambivalent toward me if I can make her blush so easily.
And that, I can definitely work with.
“I promise, it won’t be that bad.”
With her gaze pinned to mine, she lifts the glass and takes a long sip.
“Do you like spaghetti?” I ask, changing the subject to safer terrain.
“Yeah. Where are you going to order from?”
I smirk. “Nowhere. I’m going to make it myself.”
She takes another sip of wine. “Well, color me surprised.”
My gaze flicks to her again as she settles at the marble island. I can’t say I don’t like the sight of Callie making herself at home in my kitchen, drinking a glass of wine while I cook us dinner.
It’s one I could definitely get used to.
She remains silent as I prep our meal. A big pot of water is filled and set on a burner to boil.
From the fridge, I pull out a container filled with sauce I made a few days ago, and add it to a pan.
Then I grab half a loaf of Italian bread, cut it lengthwise, and slather on a mixture of butter, garlic, and parmesan cheese.
It doesn’t take long for the sauce to simmer and the water to boil.
I add the fresh noodles I picked up at an Italian specialty market.
Three minutes tops and they’ll be al dente.
Everything should come together around the same time. Spaghetti is an easy and comforting meal. The entire time I work, Callie sits on the stool across the island and watches me. It makes me wonder how often she finds herself being waited on instead of the one who does all the serving.
Way too often from the expression on her face.
“Do you cook a lot?” she asks.
“More than you’d think,” I say, stirring the sauce. “It was something I picked up after college. Believe it or not, takeout gets old. And it turns out that I actually like cooking. The rhythm of it is relaxing. It’s a great way to unwind at the end of the day.”
She hums into her wine. “I never would’ve guessed that.”
I glance over my shoulder and meet her inquisitive gaze. “I’m not sure why it should surprise you. It’s not like you know very much about me.”
With a frown, she sets her glass down with a clink. “There’s plenty I know. You were Zane’s friend, and that was more than enough.”
Once the pasta is ready, I serve our meal and set a plate in front of her before settling on a stool at the island.
I remind myself that changing Callie’s perception is going to take time and patience.
Luckily, I have enough of both.
“You’re right,” I admit. “I was his friend. But we haven’t been close for a while.”
She jerks her shoulders but doesn’t respond.
Instead of pushing the topic, I let it drop. We eat in silence for a few minutes. It’s the kind that simmers rather than settles.
She finishes about half of her dinner before setting her utensils down and saying quietly, “I really don’t understand why you’re doing this.”
I don’t answer right away. Instead, I study her, taking in the way she’s sitting ramrod straight, her muscles full of tension. It would be impossible not to notice the guarded edge that’s crept into her tone.
“You deserve better, Callie. You deserve more. And I want to be the one who gives it to you.”
Her fingers tighten around the delicate stem of her glass.
“Even when you were with him…” My voice drops as I swivel toward her. “I saw you. And I saw how he treated you.”
She blinks at me like she’s trying to process a foreign language.
“But there was nothing I could do,” I add. “You were with him, and I respected that. Even though I hated every fucking second of it.”
This time she lifts the glass with a shaking hand and takes a larger gulp of wine. It’s so damn tempting to reach out and wrap my fingers around hers to steady them.
But I’ve waited this long for the right time.
I can wait just a bit longer.
When I’m done with this woman, there’s nowhere else she’ll want to be and no one else she’ll want touching her.
I’ll make damn sure of it.
She stares down at her nearly empty glass and says quietly, “Would you just… do me a favor?”
“Anything.”
When she tries to avoid my gaze, I slip my fingers beneath her chin, angling her face up until her eyes meet mine.
I need her to see me.
Really see me.
If we’re going to do this, if I’m going to give her every damn thing she deserves, she needs to understand I mean it.
Her lips part, and when her tongue flicks out to wet them, my self-control wavers. It would be so easy to lean in, close that last inch, and taste her.
Instead, her words slice through the haze.
“I know you think this is what you want, but trust me, it isn’t. Give it a couple of weeks and you’ll be over it. You’ll get bored, change your mind, and want us gone. Just… give me a little notice so I have time to find another place to live.”
I shake my head, my gaze dropping to those plush lips I haven’t stopped thinking about since the day we met. “That’s not going to happen, Callie. Not in a few weeks. Not in a few months. Or years. Not ever.”
Her brows snap together. “How can you say that? You live alone and are free to do whatever you want. You don’t know what it’s like to take care of a little kid. Just like takeout, it’ll get old. Trust me, it didn’t take long for Zane to get bored. And just like him, you’ll want us out.”
The thin, bitter waver in her tone nearly guts me.
In that moment, I want to find Zane Holloway and wring his damn neck with my bare hands for making her doubt her worth, for turning love into something that left scars she still feels.
He didn’t just break her heart. He ripped away her sense of security.
Her belief someone could choose her and stay.
With my fingers beneath her chin, my thumb glides across her lower lip. It’s such a small touch, but the tenderness I find there has everything inside me stilling.
“I’m not him,” I say. “I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep. And I don’t walk away when things get hard.”
Her eyes flash, something fragile sparking in them, but she reins it in. She wants to believe me.
She just can’t.
Not yet.
“You weren’t with a man before,” I continue.
“You were with a selfish little boy who didn’t know how to value what he had.
You gave him your heart, your loyalty, a family, and he threw it away.
But I see you, Callie. I see everything you are.
Everything you’ve built. Everything you carry. And I want it. All of it.”
She goes motionless, the silence between us thick with things that have been left unsaid.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I add. “So don’t ever confuse me with the kind of guy who would.”
Her lips part on a shaky exhale. “What is this to you, River?”
I don’t hesitate.
“This,” I say, pressing my forehead to hers, “is everything I’ve ever wanted. You. Nora. This life.”
She swallows hard. “I don’t believe you.”
Even though I’m disappointed by the response, I’m not surprised.
A slow nod follows as I continue to hold her face. “That’s okay. You don’t have to. Not yet. Zane did a number on you, and I get that. Just know I’m going to prove it every single day until the only thing you believe is me.”
Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but she doesn’t pull away.
It’s a small thing, her staying still and letting me in even just this tiny bit.
But right now, it feels like everything.