Chapter 32 River
River
Midway through the day, Willow pulls me aside and says, “You should take Callie out to dinner tonight. We’ll stay here with Nora, grab pizza for the kids, maybe some ice cream, then head back to the hotel.”
And just like that, my entire night gets a hell of a lot better.
I glance at Callie with a raised brow. The last thing I want to do is assume or push. I’d never pressure her to leave Nora behind if she’s not ready. I know how hard it is for her to loosen the reins, especially when it comes to the little girl her entire world revolves around.
Callie hesitates, her gaze flicking to where Nora is playing on the floor with Autumn and Haven. In the span of a couple of hours, the three of them have become thick as thieves. It’s like they’ve known each other their whole lives.
I can almost see the silent war playing out in Callie’s eyes. The mom in her wants to say no. Wants to stay and be the one in charge of bedtime and juice cups and wiping off sticky fingers.
But the woman?
The woman who hasn’t had a moment to relax, to feel desired, to feel seen, wants to give in.
She looks at me again, and something in her expression eases.
“Okay,” she says, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth before glancing at my twin. “But only if you’re sure.”
“I am,” Willow says easily, glancing at the kids and then her husband. “They’re having the best time together.”
Callie nods slowly, her arms still crossed, as she watches the scene unfold like it’s something precious. Something she hasn’t let herself imagine she could have. “They really are.”
I don’t say anything, but I could kiss my sister for knowing exactly what I needed.
This little moment is everything.
I love having Nora here in my home. She’s filled it with so much energy and laughter. I love how effortlessly she fits into my life, how naturally she clings to my hand, how she lights up every room she races into.
And Callie’s not just sliding into my life.
She’s becoming it.
It’s to the point where I can’t picture a future that doesn’t include the two of them.
Although, getting Callie all to myself, even for a few hours, is a gift I didn’t know I needed until it was offered.
We head down the hall to get ready. I shave, throw on a dark crewneck sweater and a pair of jeans. Something simple and understated. Even so, I find myself adjusting in the mirror, wanting to look perfect for her.
I’m halfway through pulling on my shoes when the bathroom door creaks open and Callie walks out. The world goes still as I glance up and find her there.
She’s wearing a green dress that hugs her curves in a way that’s both delicate and undeniably sexy. It hits just above the knee, revealing legs I’ve had the privilege of feeling tangled with mine beneath the covers.
There’s no glitter, no flash, no stilettos.
Just her.
And holy hell, this woman is the total package.
The real mystery is how she doesn’t realize it.
“Is it too much?” she asks, smoothing her palms nervously over her hips. Her tone is light, almost playful, but I hear the flicker of uncertainty buried beneath it. Like she doesn’t realize she’s just stolen the air right out of me.
Too much?
It’s not nearly enough.
I swallow hard, my brain scrambling to remember how to do basic things like form words. “You look…” I rake a hand through my hair, as if the movement might help me find them. “You look incredible.”
She glances down, as if suddenly shy.
And fuck if that doesn’t undo me completely.
It’s not just how she looks. It’s the softness in her eyes. The quiet vulnerability she’s letting me see. She isn’t putting on a show.
Callie is just being herself.
And I don’t want to look away.
Not now.
Not ever.
We don’t say much on the elevator ride down to the parking garage.
Instead of the silence being awkward, it’s charged.
Heavy with the awareness that something between us is shifting.
I can feel it in the way she stands just a little closer than necessary and the subtle brush of her hand against mine.
The floral scent of her shampoo lingers in the air, making it impossible not to notice her.
Not to want her.
When her fingers graze mine again, I give in and wrap my hand around her smaller one. She glances up, and our gazes catch in the reflective surface of the elevator doors.
Emotion flickers in her eyes.
Uncertainty, maybe.
Or perhaps it’s curiosity.
Whatever it is, she doesn’t look away.
By the time we reach the truck, I’m fighting the urge to back her against the nearest wall and kiss her senseless. Every part of me hums with restraint.
Barely am I able to hold it in.
Instead, I take her to Gold Coast Table. I called ahead and booked a table outside on the terrace beneath the heat lamps. The atmosphere is quiet and intimate. Romantic in a way that won’t scare her off but still makes it clear this isn’t just dinner.
She smiles in delight as we’re led outside.
“This place is beautiful.” She smooths the napkin over her lap, as if trying to keep her hands busy.
“You’re beautiful,” I say before I can think better of it.
Cheesy?
Maybe.
But it’s the absolute truth. The words slip out so naturally it feels less like a line and more like the tide rolling in.
Her gaze snaps up, startled for half a second, before she rolls her eyes, the faintest smile tugging at her lips. “Does that line usually work for you?”
I shake my head, leaning forward slightly. “Honestly? I can’t remember the last time I used a line on a woman. Or even wanted to. It’s been years.”
That earns me a laugh. It’s the kind that’s warm and unguarded, the kind that feels like it’s wrapping itself around my heart and giving a slow, deliberate squeeze.
She has no idea how much power she holds over me.
If she asked, I’d give her anything.
The fucking world.
Hell, she could have me on my knees without even trying.
We order pasta and share a bottle of wine.
She tells me about riding the train with her mom on Saturdays because parking downtown cost too much.
How they’d pack peanut butter sandwiches in foil and eat them on a bench outside the Field Museum before going in with the free day passes her mom was able to snag.
She talks about standing on tiptoe at the Shedd Aquarium’s big tank, wishing she could stay all day, and how her dad would skate with her at Millennium Park every winter.
I tell her about what it was like growing up with Willow.
How we were basically a two-kid wrecking crew.
If one of us got an idea, the other was already halfway to making it happen.
Somewhere between the breadsticks and dessert, we stop feeling like two people circling around the idea of each other and start feeling like something more.
Something solid.
Something that has the potential to last.
Callie leans in, resting her elbows on the table. There’s a beat of hesitation before she pushes past it. “Can I ask you something?”
I nod. “Anything.”
“Why haven’t you ever settled down?”
The question catches me off guard, but not in a bad way. It’s the kind of question that means she wants to know more about me.
I glance out at the city lights before looking back at her. “I don’t know,” I say honestly. “Maybe I never met someone who felt like home.”
She blinks. “Is that what I feel like to you?”
“You do. I can’t explain it. It was like… the second I saw you in that club, in that pretty little dress that hugged your curves, I was done for. It was game over.”
Her eyes widen slightly.
“And then Zane introduced you as his girlfriend,” I say. “That was the first time I ever wanted something that belonged to him.”
“River…”
I lift a shoulder. “It’s true. I’ve never wanted anyone so badly. I thought it would pass, but it never did.”
She lowers her gaze to her plate. “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you. I was angry. Lost. Coming from a place of pain. And you didn’t deserve it.”
I reach across the table and slide my fingers between hers before giving them a squeeze. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You were protecting yourself and your daughter. That’s never something to be sorry about.”
When her eyes find mine again, emotion flickers behind them. “Thank you for not giving up on me.”
I grin. “Oh, sweetheart. That was never going to happen.”
She doesn’t respond.
At least not with words.
Her expression relaxes in a way that makes it impossible to look at her and not imagine a life together.
I lift my wineglass. “To tonight,” I say quietly. “And to the fact that you’re finally where you belong. With me.”
She stills before clinking her glass to mine. “It’s been a long time since something felt this right.”
I lean forward. “I promise you, baby, this is just the beginning. All I need is the chance to show you what your life could look like with me in it.”
“You’re the first man to come along and look at me like I matter.”
That unexpected comment hits hard because she absolutely matters.
To Nora.
To me.
To her friends.
And whether she knows it yet or not, this thing between us?
It’s not going anywhere.
On the way back to the truck, I press my hand to the small of her back, feeling the warmth of her body through the thin fabric of her dress. And when she leans into the touch like she’s been waiting for it all night, something finally clicks into place.
As much as I want to kiss her right now, I don’t.
What we’re building is worth waiting for.
Callie is worth waiting for.
And I’ll bide my time for as long as it takes to show her that I mean every goddamn word.