Chapter 29
Twenty-Nine
CALLIE
“You know, you really don’t need to pick me up and drive me home,” I’d teased Lewis as we walked outside to his SUV.
He’d insisted on collecting me after work that evening so I could visit his new house for the first time since he moved in.
Lewis had even cooked us dinner—steamed salmon, potatoes, and a whole half plate of green veg.
Someone had been paying attention to Verity’s recommendations that I eat lots of veggies.
Lewis loved the poster I bought him as a housewarming gift, and my parents (well, Mum) had bought him a swanky set of pots and pans he was very grateful for.
Aye, it had been a good night. Especially when I told him the great news about Nathan. Lewis was so relieved for me, as I knew he would be.
However, there was an underlying tension between us.
Or maybe it was just me. But I found myself gazing at my boyfriend like he was the most complicated, sinfully delicious entremets on the planet.
The way his T-shirt stretched across his back as he moved.
The way his sweats hung on his arse. An arse I knew was rock hard and bitable.
When he was cooking with peppers, I’d cracked, “What does a nosy pepper do? It gets jalapeno business.” Lewis had groaned at the dad joke, and I got an immediate flashback of him groaning as he came.
Seriously, everything he did turned me on. And not just like a wee bit. I was full-on horny, could-jump-him-and-ride-him-until-the-end-of-time aroused. I didn’t know if it was the “taking it slow” that was making me want him all the more or if it was bloody pregnancy hormones or both.
All I knew was that I was needy. And if I wasn’t so determined to give Lewis what he needed from our relationship, the taking it slow would be over by now.
It was almost a relief to go home. Though, even in the car, my gaze kept straying to his big man hands. He had great hands. Something about those silver rings on his long-fingered, big-knuckled man hands did something extra to me too.
As he drove from his stunning home toward Ardnoch, I ogled him. His strong jaw, handsome profile that was as familiar to me as my own face, the broad shoulders, thick biceps …
My attention caught on his tattoos again.
Of course I’d studied them a lot over the last few weeks, but I hadn’t seen him naked since our night together, and back then I hadn’t been focused on his tattoos.
His T-shirts nearly always hid the upper half of the woman’s face on his upper biceps and shoulder.
Now and then, I’d find myself looking at her, wondering …
So I reached out and drew his T-shirt sleeve up.
“What are you doing?” Lewis asked, amused.
I swallowed hard, staring at the beautifully drawn face. “Lewis … is that … me?”
“Of course it’s you,” he said, as if it wasn’t a huge deal he had my face tattooed on his arm.
“Oh my God.”
He flicked me a look. “You didn’t realize?”
“No.” I traced my fingers over the tattoo. “What does it all mean?” I drew my hand down to the tree.
“The tree is my family,” Lewis answered gruffly. “The roses and thistles are Ardnoch, and the clock … it’s set to the time and date I left you all.”
A sharp ache flared across my chest. “Lewis …”
“And if you look really closely, in amongst the thistles, you’ll see two words in script.”
Intrigued, I peered, searching. And then I saw it.
Callie Forever.
Tears filled my eyes.
Lewis glanced quickly at me again and saw them. “Shit. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
In answer, I pressed a tender kiss to his arm. How could I have ever doubted his love for me? It baffled me now that I could have been so young and impetuous and careless with his heart.
“I’ll make it up to you,” I whispered.
He frowned as he kept his eyes on the road. “Make what up to me?”
“Everything.”
A heaviness fell between us, and I didn’t know how to dispel it, so I asked, “Has anyone else seen the writing in the tattoo?”
Lewis drove onto Castle Street, heading toward the cottage. He grimaced. “Roisin saw it.”
His ex. “Oh dear. How did you explain it?”
“Well, she was already pissed about the woman’s face, and I lied to her and said it was from the artist’s imagination, so I let her assume Callie Forever meant Caledonia Forever.”
I snorted. “Caley for Caledonia is spelled differently.”
“Did I mention Roisin wasn’t Scottish?” He grinned sheepishly as he parked outside the cottage. As soon as he turned off the engine, Lewis shifted to face me. “She found photos of you on my laptop and recognized you on my tattoo. It was the argument that led to the end.”
I couldn’t feel bad that Lewis was with me and not with her, but I did feel bad for her.
The truth was I’d been jealous of any woman who had slept with him until I realized he still loved me.
Now I didn’t begrudge him his relationship with Roisin and the fact that he had sex with her.
It would be hypocritical. And if my boyfriend had a tattoo of another woman on his arm and lied about it, that might mess with my head. “Poor Roisin.”
Guilt flickered over Lewis’s face. “Aye. I should have told her the truth, but I didn’t want to hurt her.
I ended up hurting her even worse, and though I did try to make it work, I think she knew then that you were the reason I couldn’t tell her I loved her.
And she was sick of waiting. I don’t blame her.
” He considered. “You know, this is the first night since that night we’ve really talked about the time we were apart. ”
“I know. I think we have to find our way naturally with that stuff and not push it.” My eyes drifted by him to my cottage. “I—” I halted, leaning past him as something caught my attention. “Is … is my front door open?”
Lewis’s head whipped around as he stared at the door. Then he let out a muttered curse. “Stay in the car.” He demanded as he unclipped his seat belt and got out.
“Lewis!” No effing way was I staying in the car.
Lewis whirled around as he heard my door open and close. “Callie.”
I gave him a look, and he gritted his teeth and waved me back. He approached the front door and then we both startled when a voice called out, “The police are on their way!”
We whirled to see one of the villagers who lived above the outdoor clothing shop across the street, hanging out his window.
“Mr. Smith?”
His expression was grim. “I was drifting off to sleep when I thought I heard something. Looked out and saw two men leaving the cottage and getting into a black car. There was something off about it, so I called the police, worried about you.”
My heart thundered in my chest. “Thanks, Mr. Smith.”
A shared look with Lewis saw my worry reflected in his eyes. “We’ll wait for the police.”
My cottage was trashed.
Years ago, when I lived here with Mum, Nathan had broken in and destroyed the place.
I felt ten years old again.
Because my immediate thought was, somehow this was retaliation from Nathan.
Lewis and I waited for the police to arrive before we stepped inside with them.
My books and ornaments had been knocked off shelves, my sofa cushions laid littered on the floor, anything that had a place was thrown about, some of it destroyed, some of it okay.
The only thing that had survived was my TV.
The police asked me to tell them if anything was missing. Lewis walked around the cottage with me. Whoever had broken in upended my bedroom too. All my clothes were pulled from the closet, the drawers emptied of everything. My bed was stripped.
It looked like they were looking for something and the police officers said as much too.
In the end, the only things missing were my laptop and iPad.
Halfway through my statement, my parents and Lewis’s parents showed up. Clearly, they’d been alerted by a nosy neighbor to the disturbance because we hadn’t gotten around to calling anyone.
Dad took over. “No one touch anything,” he’d commanded. “We need to dust the place for prints.”
A bit perturbed by my dad’s authoritative presence, the male police officer asked if I’d had any altercations with anyone or if there was anyone I could think of who might have an issue with me.
Mum and Regan hovered worriedly as the questions kept coming.
I felt totally in a daze. Because whoever broke in didn’t steal the diamond tennis bracelet Mum bought me for my eighteenth birthday, or the diamond earrings for my twenty-first. I had expensive costume jewelry, too, and a Miu Miu handbag I’d splurged on in Paris. Items that could be hocked for a sum.
But all they took was my laptop and iPad.
To make it look like a break-in?
I asked as much, and Mum’s arm tensed around me. “Do you think it’s Nathan?”
Dad cursed, looking ready to kill someone at the thought of my birth father tormenting me again after all this time, while the police exploded into a barrage of questions about who Nathan was.
Once the police had departed, after promising to pull any neighborhood CCTV and be in touch, Regan called Arro and Mac to let them know about the cottage.
“This place is cursed,” Thane muttered, surveying the mess. “I can’t tell you how many times something like this has happened here. Arro and Mac should just sell it.”
“Aye, you’re not staying here.” Dad glowered around the front room. “Once I get forensics done, we’ll come back and pack up your stuff.”
“Let’s go home.” Mum nudged me toward the door.
But Lewis stopped us. His expression was fierce with determination. “Stay with me.”
I gaped up at him, shocked by the offer. What about taking it slow?
“She’ll be better off at home with us,” Dad insisted.
Lewis scowled, and I was impressed by the lack of fear in his eyes. “No offense, Walker, but Callie is my girlfriend and she’s pregnant with my baby. She should be with me.”
“I can protect—”
“I can protect her too.” Lewis stared my dad down. “I’d die before I’d let anything happen to her.”
Before Dad could protest, I reached out for Lewis’s hand. “Okay.”
Relief softened his expression. “Aye?”
“Aye.”
Mum soothed a hand over my back. “You still have some things at ours. Why don’t we go there first so you can pack a bag to take to Lewis’s?”
“Fine.” Dad bit out like he was still the final say. “Just promise me you’ll get Fyfe out to install a system like the one at the bungalow.”
Lewis released my hand to pull his phone out of his back pocket, his fingers tapping over the screen. “Done,” he announced, with a respectful nod in my dad’s direction. Then he turned to me and held out his hand. “Mo chridhe.”
Standing there, in a crime scene, pregnant with a baby I’d never planned for, I should have been terrified. And part of me was. Yet, surrounded by my loving family, reaching out for the hand of the man who adored me, I couldn’t help but feel weirdly grateful under the circumstances.