Chapter Twenty-One
When Callie opened her eyes on Friday morning, she stared at the white ceiling above her for a moment. White ceiling with fancy trim around the edges, a light fixture that looked like nothing less than a chandelier? What the—?
And then she sat up when it came back to her.
She was at Ollie's place.
She looked around. Everything was so... clean. And nice. She made a face. Nice was such a small word for the grandeur of the room.
She swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stretched.
The place was lovely; she had to admit it.
She didn't know how she'd feel about it when Ollie let her inside yesterday.
It was big and fancy, there was no denying that, but it didn't feel cold and empty like she'd expected.
It felt warm and welcoming — although maybe a little bit empty. Maybe lonely.
She smiled. Maybe it was a reflection of its owner.
She pushed to her feet, and Ollie's T-shirt hung down to her thighs.
He was awesome. They'd had such a good time hanging out with the dogs.
He'd shown her all around the house, and she loved it.
She didn't mind telling him that, either — or that all her assumptions about it had been wrong.
It felt like a home in its own way. Granted, not any kind of home that she'd ever lived in, but—
She laughed out loud when she took a step and one of Butter's toys squeaked under her foot.
She hadn't known how things would go at bedtime last night. Of course, she'd been kind of hoping that Ollie might invite her into his room, but it was best that he hadn't. There'd be time for that — although she hoped that time would be coming soon.
He'd walked her up here to this room, the one she'd picked out earlier.
This one was the lightest and brightest and had an amazing view over the vineyards and rolling hills.
The dogs had come with them, and in the end, Ollie had waited while she changed into one of his T-shirts and climbed into bed.
Then he'd sat on the edge, and when she invited them, the dogs had jumped up, too.
Butter had disappeared after a while but came back with his toy and presented it to Callie. Ollie had joked that he was leaving it so that he'd have to see her again.
She picked it up and set it on the end of the bed before heading into the shower.
She'd already selected one of Ollie's T-shirts and a pair of sweats to wear today. And she'd rinsed her underwear last night and left it on the heated towel rail thing to dry. She was impressed that it had worked, and she wouldn't need to wear a pair of his boxers.
She smiled; he'd seemed to like that idea.
After she was showered and dressed, she followed the smell of bacon downstairs until she found Ollie in the kitchen. Her heart felt as though it melted in her chest when he turned to smile at her, waving the spatula in the air.
"Morning. Did you sleep okay? I want to come and kiss you, but I can't leave the bacon. I'll burn it if I step away. I always manage to burn it somehow." He gestured at the stove. "I'm making eggs, sausage, bacon, and hash browns. Is that okay? Oh, and pancakes."
She laughed. "That's fine by me, but I hope you're not going out of your way."
He chuckled. "No, I make a full breakfast like this every single day."
She laughed and slapped his arm. "No, you don't."
He came to her and wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her lips. Her hands came up to his shoulders. His bare shoulders. He was wearing sweats, too, but no T-shirt.
When she ran her fingers up the back of his neck, he shuddered and winked at her. "If you keep that up, the bacon will definitely burn."
She took the spatula from his hand. "How about I see to the bacon, you see to the rest?"
He ducked his head to press a kiss to her lips. "Teamwork. I like it. But you owe me another kiss when we're done."
"And I'll be happy to give it to you."
They worked side by side, the dogs sitting in their beds, watching with great interest. It was only once they were plating everything up that Callie realized just how easy it was to share space with him.
He picked up both plates and turned to her with a grin. "Do you want coffee or juice with this?"
"Orange juice. You?"
He nodded. "Yeah. The glasses are..."
She smiled. "I can find them."
She poured them each a glass and went to sit opposite him at the small table by the window. She stared out at the view.
"What a great spot to eat. Do you have breakfast here every day?"
He shrugged. "I usually sit at the counter."
"What a waste."
He nodded, looking a little guilty. "I know. You're right. But it's like I told you with the flying — when you do something all the time, you forget to appreciate it."
She made a face. "I hope that doesn't mean you're going to stop appreciating me."
She had to laugh with him when he almost choked on his orange juice and set the glass down.
"What?" she asked with a grin.
He chuckled. "That sounded to me very much like you were saying that I'll get to do you so much that I wouldn't — but believe me, I'd never stop appreciating that."
She rolled her eyes at him. "You don't know that yet. Neither of us do."
He let his gaze travel over her slowly, and heat pooled low in her belly and seemed to radiate out from there.
"I think I do know, Callie. I'll wait however long you need to. But I'm not worried. I know we'll be good."
"I do too," she said with a smile. "That's not something I rush into, but..."
"I know. That's what I'm saying. I'm not trying to rush you. Asking you to stay with me wasn't about that."
She held her hand up. "I know that. What I was about to say was, it's not something I usually rush into, but we've known each other for a while now."
A small smile played on his lips as he waited for her to continue.
She nodded slightly. "I don't think we need to hold back too much."
He sat up a little straighter and shifted in his seat.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
He chuckled. "I will be. Just give me a minute. I need to convince a part of me that not holding back doesn't mean right now."
~ ~ ~
Ollie took Callie's hand as they followed the dogs up the hill behind the house. She glanced back at the swimming pool.
"Please tell me you appreciate having that."
He felt a little guilty admitting that he hadn't swum at all yet this summer. She shook her head at him, and he shrugged.
"Don't the dogs like to swim?" she asked.
"They do. That's why it has the shallow end with the walk-in steps. They don't go in there much anymore, but Butter used to like to jump in sometimes, and it worried me that they might get in — sneak in somehow and not be able to get out."
He couldn't understand her expression as she held his gaze.
"What?" he asked eventually.
She shrugged. "I don't know what to say. I don't know what to think. It's awesome that you made it a walk-in pool for the dogs, but still sad that you don't use it yourself."
"You'll just have to come around more and remind me how much fun it is."
He relaxed when she nodded. "I love to swim."
"Then bring your swimsuit next time you come."
"Okay."
They walked on in comfortable silence for a little while, and he realized that the dogs were heading down to the lake.
"Even though we don't go in the pool much, you'll see in a minute where they do like to swim."
When they got there, Callie looked around with a big smile on her face.
Sunlight glinted off the water, and a couple of oaks provided shade along one side.
"Oh wow, this is awesome. I think of this whole area as being so dry.
It surprises me that the grapes will grow, let alone that there'd be a pond like this. "
He smiled. "It's not natural — it's man-made."
"Well, however it got here, it's wonderful." She jerked her chin toward Peanut and Butter, who were sitting on the shore, tongues hanging out, both staring at him eagerly. "Are they allowed to go in?"
"Yeah. I didn't bring their towels or anything, but we can shower them off when we get back to the house."
Butter barked, and Callie laughed. "He's asking you if they can go in, isn't he?"
"Yeah." He raised his voice. "Yes, you can!"
Both dogs leaped from a sitting start straight into the water, making Callie laugh.
He led her to a small stone bench, and they sat and watched the dogs play in the water — running in and out, barking and chasing each other. Peanut nipped Butter's tail, and he turned around and chased her.
"I've been meaning to ask you — how come they have tails? It's not normal for Dobermans, is it?"
"No, it isn't. But I've always hated that. People dock dogs' tails just for—" He shook his head. "I don't even know why, but it doesn't seem right to me. So, when I was looking for a dog, I only looked at breeders who don't do that."
"I'm glad," said Callie. "And their ears don't look like regular Doberman ears, either."
He smiled. "That's another thing. These two do have regular Doberman ears — natural ones. They're not cropped."
She cringed. "Ouch! They crop their ears? I didn't know that. I thought they just had funny-shaped ears."
"No, they're only funny-shaped if they get cropped when they're puppies."
She leaned her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around her. "Well, I'm glad that you didn't do that to them. Go on — is there a story behind their names? I know you said that Reaves wanted to call them something like Fang and Killer. But how did you come up with Peanut and Butter?"
He leaned back so that he could see her face. "You have to promise not to laugh at me."
"Why would I laugh?"
"You'll think I'm too soft."
She tapped her finger in the middle of his chest. "And you think that's a bad thing?"
"Maybe not."
"So, go on — why Peanut and Butter?"
"Well, like I told you, I was only looking to get a dog. One."
She smiled. "But you couldn't resist two."