Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Callie
" H ey Cal."
The rich voice calling my name from the front of the small florist shop I opened just a few months ago, has my heart kicking into overdrive. My hands shake so bad that I'm forced to put the vase I just picked up back down on the table where I'm putting together bouquets of early fall color in the back room.
Calm down, Cal . I admonish myself for getting flustered. I've known the man most of my life, after all. It's not like I haven't had dozens of conversations with him.
"I'm back here, Dean, just come on through."
Seconds later, a tall figure blocks the light streaming in from the front retail area where the morning sunlight is spilling through the big windows.
"Those are pretty."
Archer has his hat in his hands, worrying the brim as he nods toward the buckets of marigolds and chrysanthemums I have lined up on my work table for easy access.
"September," I mutter, "time for fall already."
There was a time when it was a lot easier to talk to him. Even when I was a teenager, going through the most painful part of my hopeless crushing, I could still stand to be in the same room with him and talk easily.
Things have been different between us since I got back from school though. It's like Archer ran out of things to say to me while I was away.
He used to tease me about the dirt under my nails and ask me about my gardening or my studies or my plans to open my own shop, but now he just seems-- nervous -- whenever he's alone with me. Like being stuck with just me is something painful that he'd rather not deal with.
"If you wrap one up for me, I'd like to take it home for Mom."
"Of course, that's really sweet of you."
Ugh. Mentally, I beat my head against the wall. My lame responses aren't really doing much to improve our small talk.
When I turn around to hand the bundle of flowers to Archer, he's moved all the way into the back room, causing me to bump into him when I find him standing so close behind me.
"Oh sorry." My reaction is automatic, but when his hands land on my arms to steady me, all the other words I was about to add die in my throat.
Archer Dean is touching me.
His hands linger, hot against my exposed skin that's been cooled by the air conditioning. Then they slide down from my shoulders-- bare under the thin straps of my sundress-- to just above my elbows. The callouses on his hands leaving a wake of goosebumps every place they touch.
I clutch the flowers between us tightly, my palms breaking out in a sweat with the anxiety of Archer being so damn close to me and, for once in this lifetime, he's not looking at me like I'm a little kid.
"Calla--"
His voice sounds as rough as his fingers feel; with a waver of uncertainty in it as he stares down at me from his six foot, three inches, plus boots, and works a muscle in his jaw on his left side.
"I wa--"
"That's my sister , asshole!"
I'm not sure which one of us jumps the farthest, me or Archer, as my brother's angry voice reaches us from the sidewalk outside the shop.
"I don't give a fuck what you meant, Cal doesn't date. If she did, it sure as fuck wouldn't be some asshole that talks about her like that!"
Archer clears his throat.
I feel the corners of my mouth lift with my shoulders in an embarrassed shrug.
Archer knows all too well how protective my brother is of me. In fact, he's stood with Rowan many times in defending me.
I know he does it because he thinks of me as the little sister he never had himself and he's just following Rowan's lead, but I wish he really was making sure no one else got near me because he wanted me for himself.
A girl can dream.
"Here," I thrust my arm forward, shoving the flowers toward him hastily and miscalculating the distance between us. My knuckles brush his broad chest, stopped short by the wall of solid muscle that's still much closer to me than I'm used to. "Tell your mom I said hi."
Outside the front door, we can hear my brother still shouting down the street at whoever said whatever about me as he makes his way back to the shop door that he left open.
Something flickers across Archer's face as Rowan calls my name; the hard thud of his work boots making it clear he's headed back here to find me.
"Yeah, thanks, what do I owe you?"
"Arch! You're here, awesome, man, I need to talk to you anyway." Rowan greets Archer with a slap on his shoulder before leaning down to kiss my forehead.
"I don't want you talking to that Montgomery kid, hear me, Cal? If he comes around, you let me know.
"Kid's got no manners." He turns his attention to Archer, "I made it clear Callie's not interested. If he didn't get the message the first time, we might need to go tell him again."
Before my brother burst in, it looked like Archer was about to say something. Now, whatever it was is gone from his mind. He takes the flowers from me and gives me the same old, lopsided, Archer Dean grin that's been making my pulse race since I was just a dumb teenager with a crush.
"Don't worry about the flowers. You can make it up to me later."
A new expression crosses Archer's ruggedly handsome features, and for a second I expect him to make the joke that I clearly just Freudian slipped my way right into.
Then we both glance toward my brother. Even though Rowan's oblivious to my awkward comment-- his head down, attention focused intensely on his phone-- Archer and I both know that's not the kind of teasing we do with each other.
"Okay, well, thanks then. See ya." Archer raises the hand with the bouquet and waves at me.
As Rowan leads him out the door and down the street-- probably toward O'Hare's, or possibly down to Tapped Out, the brew pub down at the far end of Main Street where they sell Ginger's porter and sometimes her other craft beers-- I watch two of the most important men in my life as they chat easily while they walk and wonder why I can't have it all.
Archer
"Nice flowers," Rowan nods in the direction of the bouquet on the table beside me. "Who're they for?"
I sip the beer I agreed to have with my buddy, momentarily confused by the question.
Let's face it, I'm just plain confused.
For a second there...shit. For a second I had Cal's soft skin under my hands. It felt so damn good, and I coulda sworn she was looking at me like-- like, I don't know. Something. Like maybe she was hoping for more.
And I was going to give it to her. I was going to spill my guts and fess up to all the things I've been thinking and feeling about her.
Then Rowan showed up. Threatening to kick some guy's ass for making a comment about Callie, and reminding me why I can't have her.
Dammit.
"...damn Montgomery kid can drive out to Middleton for his feed." Rowan takes a long pull of the dark beer he ordered.
"He's got seventeen heifers out there, Row, and he's got a full time day job-- you know he can't be going to Middleton for his feed."
"This porter's really good, you need to try it." Rowan says, savoring his next swig of the dark brew in his glass.
"He was walking by Cal's shop with Jake Manning. Didn't even notice me right behind 'em when he turns to Jake and jabs his thumb toward Callie's window and says 'that's one I'd like in my bed for the winter."
My hand tightens around my pint glass, my jaw clenching as thoughts of putting Jerry Montgomery's head through a fence fill my mind.
Not for the same reasons his comment got to Row though, but because the only bed Calla Lillian is going to be warming is my own.
"See?" Rowan nods toward the death grip I have on my beer. "Tell me you don't want to go over there and remind him Cal's off limits."
My buddy laughs, thinking we're on the same page here and reminding me why I can't come clean with him-- or Callie.
"So who's getting flowers?" Row looks down at the flowers again.
"Um, mom." I stumble to answer and it's not because I don't plan on giving them to Ma when I get back to the ranch tonight, but because I was still lost in the thoughts of Callie that threaten to keep tormenting me till the day I die.
Rowan leans back and grins at me.
"Uh huh, sure, bro."
"What?"
"You got that look on your face, man. That same stupid look your bothers have been wearing around town since they found women to put rings on. Who is she?"
"No man, really, the flowers are for mom."
"Well, I appreciate you supporting Cal's business, either way," he tells me. "She's worked really hard to open her own place. It's the only thing she's focused on since she was a kid, you know."
Nodding, I watch something serious flicker across my buddy's face, something almost like sadness, as he tilts his glass to peer into the dregs of the dark porter he's been working on.
"You know Cal's friend brews this stuff," he half mumbles, "she's opening a tap house up in Moonshine Ridge. City of Slow River wouldn't issue her a permit-- said they didn't want more places serving alcohol downtown.
"Cal says Ginger met some guy up there. She's moving up to the Ridge permanently, already talking about marrying this mountain man she just met...I'm worried Cal's gonna..."
His voice trails off and he snaps out of his deep thoughts. Slapping an open palm on the table and grinning back up at me, like he's caught himself talking too seriously.
"So the flowers are for Mom, fine. But seriously, bro, you've only been half with me for days now-- who is she?"
We've been friends too long for me to get off this hook. My buddy has caught on to the fact that I'm head over heels for someone, there's no denying it. I just have to make sure he doesn't realize who it is.
"I knew it!" His grin widens when my face gives me away. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone, man. The way you've been acting lately, I take it it's pretty serious?"
Coughing lightly, I take a pull from my own beer to buy myself some time and think of how to answer.
"Yeah," I finally admit, "it's uh, pretty fucking serious. It's just that, um, well...it's complicated."
"Complicated how? You having trouble closing the deal? You need some pointers?"
This time I laugh, and it's genuine.
Damn. If it was any other woman in the whole fucking world, this conversation might actually be fun.
"Nah, more like, she's kinda-- off limits."
"Fuck that, man! What is this? The eighteen hundreds? You come from good blood, you're rich as fuck, man. Some women even think you're ok looking-- just from what I've heard around town, you know.
"Is she of age?"
"What the fuck man? Yeah. I mean, she's younger than me, but yeah, she's an adult."
"Well, I mean, there's not much left to mark a person as 'off limits.' If she's into you, then fuck whatever the obstacles are. If this is the real thing, it's worth fighting for."
"I don't know man. It's her-- family. Right?"
"This a local gal, Arch?" Rowan's giving me a hard look, that goes confused when I nod cautiously. "What family in Slow River wouldn't be fucking thrilled to have their daughter hook up with an O'Leary?"
"Well..."
"Not like the Ralston's have a sister, so who the hell else is there in town that wouldn't approve of you dating their daughter?"
I don't have the courage to give up details that might give him the clues he needs to figure out who we're talking about. Instead of talking any more about it, I drain the last swig of beer in my glass and grab the bouquet off the table as I get up.
"I gotta head back to the ranch," I explain. "I'll talk to you later."
"Yeah, cool, man." Rowan says, following me out of Tapped Out's outdoor sitting area. "I need to put a note in Montgomery's file to make sure I'm out of the supplement he likes-- there's an extra charge when I have to put in a special order, you know."
He grins to let me know he's planning on making Jerry's life hard for his comment about Callie. A comment that echoes thought's I've been thinking more often myself lately.
"Don't be a dick, Row. The guy's trying to build a herd out there. You know how hard it is to break into the business from scratch."
"I'll think about it." Rowan half-heartedly promises as we start off in different directions. "I mean it, Arch, the real thing's worth fighting for. Tell her family to fuck off. They'll come around as soon as they want to see their grandkids!"
Shaking my head, I raise my hand in a half wave toward my friend, not mentioning that it's not my would-be in-laws that I'm worried about.
He can talk all he wants when he's not talking about his own baby sister.
Today's been one reminder after another of why I can't take his advice.