CHAPTER SEVEN
My fury has simmered to a muted rage. The definition of peace sitting across from me is the only reason I’m stuck to this chair rather than seeking revenge on her behalf. Callie appears oblivious to my stewing resentment toward her father. As if I could so easily forgive and forget and fuck off. My fists demand justice, crushing the napkin in my grip into unrecognizable shreds. But I’m trying to remain calm. At least outwardly.
The reminder that this is our first date plays on repeat. I wasn’t lying earlier. She’s all that matters. Nothing can ruin the night for us. Especially not my foul mood provoked by a man I’ll never meet. He’s not worthy of intruding on us.
If Callie overheard the madness wreaking havoc in my mind, she might ask me to leave. I wouldn’t blame her. It doesn’t mean I won’t drag my heels on the way out.But that’s my obsession talking. For her. Only her.
I might be overbearing, but she hasn’t told me to back off. If anything, her reactions entice me. My gaze feasts on Callie as she devours her favorite meal. I’m captivated instantly. She’s too gracious, offering me endless praise as if I cooked the food from scratch. The internal conflict and what’s left of my anger melts away.
Every smile and pleased sound is like a badge I’ve earned. Her happiness is infectious. I unclench my hands and rest them flat on the table. My chest expands until pressure warns me that I’m about to burst. That doesn’t stop me from continuing to stare at her, getting more than my fill. I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt this lucky.
But then I glance at her arm. That scar taunts me as if I’ve already failed her. I vow to never allow harm to strike her again.
“Ridge?”
A hot surge floods my veins, and an involuntary groan is forced from me. The potency is more intoxicating than scoring a goal to win the game with two seconds left on the clock. It’s safe to say I’m not immune to her uttering my name. I probably never will be.
The control she wields over me might be cause for concern, but I willingly hand over the reins. She gets all of me.
Other than my undivided concentration to conversation, seeing as she has to clear her throat for me to notice the silence is mine to end.
Once again, I’m rendered useless just from a simple mention. Fuck, I need to get a grip.
“Yes, sweetness?”
“Are you okay?” She scoots her fingers toward where mine are planted.
I wonder if she realizes the subtle movement puts her within touching distance. Or how easy it would be for me to engulf her palm with mine. Shit, there I go again.
“Couldn’t be better. Why do you ask?”
Callie tortures her bottom lip with a gnawing bite. “You look… bothered.”
I smooth my features. “Really?”
Her squint digs beneath the exterior. “Please don’t concern yourself with what happened before we met.”
“Might as well ask me to quit breathing.”
“You couldn’t have changed the outcome regardless,” she urges.
“Doesn’t mean I can’t wish things were different.”
Her smile lacks its usual sparkle. “In my father’s eyes, his actions were justified.”
“And I’ll gladly rearrange his face to extend my gratitude. Maybe then he’ll see clearly.”
The thoughtful tilt of her head suggests she isn’t completely opposed to the idea. Progress. “Did Harper tell you about where I came from?”
“No, I never asked.”
“Oh.” Her wounded expression is a blade sinking into my gut.
“Hey.” My thumb nudges hers. The slight contact has the desired effect, earning me a gasp. “Don’t think that means I’m not interested. I just wanted to hear the story from you.”
Relief washes her expression of the defeat pinching between her brows. “Oh, okay. That makes me feel better.”
I’m riveted to the glow returning to her complexion. “Is your background difficult to talk about?”
“Not really. It’s probably harder for you to hear than it is for me to share.”
“Shit,” I grind out. The history burned into her skin nearly tossed me over the edge. Whatever she’s about to reveal is likely to put me in a tailspin.
“We don’t need to discuss it.” Her meek tone prods at the protective instincts she’s established in me.
“It’s part of you, sweetness. That means I want to know.”
“Have you heard of Billmoore?”
The name rattles around, but doesn’t connect. “Is it nearby?”
“About two hours south. Some say Knox Creek is in the middle of nowhere, but they clearly don’t know how isolated a place can be.” Callie laughs, but the sound lacks humor. “Billmoore is a secluded community that’s built on particular… beliefs. The compound is spread across hundreds of acres and includes numerous families.”
“Like a cult?”
She flinches. “Um, no. That’s not a term the elders would allow. It’s a private civilization set apart from typical society by these… outdated standards.”
“Such as mistreating someone for burning dinner?”
“Women are raised to be subservient,” she whispers. “We’re taught that men are in charge. No argument. Like what I texted you, my voice wasn’t heard.”
“And I won’t break my promise. Your voice will always be heard by me.”
“I believe you. Now more than ever.” She bumps her index finger against mine, making a move of her own.
“Good,” I mumble. “That’s real good. I’ll prove myself worthy of your faith in me.”
“You already have.”
“Compared to the men you’re used to, that’s not a major feat. No offense,” I add.
Her hand swats at the air to wave me off. “None taken. My expectations are skewed, but you’d exceed them regardless.”
I release a heavy breath. “Too easy to please, sweetness.”
“Perhaps. Or it’s your special influence on me, which is most likely. Harper has spent the better part of this past year explaining how different traditions vary beyond the walls of Billmoore. It’s still an adjustment. Where I was raised, if girls didn’t follow the rules or were caught misbehaving, a proper punishment was provided.”
“Proper punishment? Damn, they did a number on you to believe you deserved that pain.” The fact she used past tense is a small miracle. “How did you cope in such an oppressive environment?”
Her throat works with a gulp. “I kept pushing forward to survive.”
“Or merely existed like a trophy to be won.”
“That makes me sound like a coveted prize. Nobody would treat me as such.”
“I will, but as an equal. You won’t be stripped of control ever again. That’s another promise, so long as my heart is beating. It’s yours.” I’m referring to more than her right to choose, but that’s her realization to arrive at. My concentration is riveted on her and the cascade of emotions she’s reflecting.
“You’re even more noble than I anticipated,” she whispers.
“Noble?” I take a hand through my hair. “An hour ago, I was prepared to seriously injure your father.”
“In my defense like a white knight. But you stayed instead.”
“Still considering it,” I admit.
“Yes, you’d like to rearrange his face.” Her lips twitch as she recites my earlier comment.
“Grant me permission and consider it done.”
She shakes her head. “He’s highly respected at Billmoore. A leader among the people. Provides for his family. Sets an example for those that need guidance. Just view it as a very different perspective on reality, if that makes sense.”
“The fact you can justify his actions is… something else.”
“I don’t expect you to understand. Trust me, now that I’m removed from that life, I see how damaging it is. But he’s still my father.” Callie shrugs and sits straighter. “Rather than wallow over what’s done and can’t be fixed, I’m choosing to look ahead. I get to choose my own path despite how I was raised. That’s a major accomplishment.”
“You’re a better person than me,” I commend.
“Agree to disagree.”
A lull settles between us, but the pause isn’t awkward. It’s a break to gather our scattered thoughts. I take a moment to glance around the room, noting most pieces are what I purchased prior to her moving in. Maybe Harper was right about Callie’s lack of personal belongings. Either that or she prefers what I bought. The latter strokes my pride in a tight fist.
Lust climbs my throat in a lazy caress, teasing at how this evening might end in pleasure rather than haunting memories of pain. I force myself to focus on the less desirable option. Otherwise, she might pull the plug prematurely, assuming there’s nothing left to say.
“Have you been back to visit?”
Callie pulls herself from wherever her mind had wandered. “No, it’s not allowed. I’m considered an outcast. Banished. It doesn’t bother me except that I can’t talk to my mom.”
“Does she know where you are?”
“I think so.” She worries her inner cheek to suggest the opposite. “I’ve called but she only answered once. She told me not to contact her again. It’s too risky. If my father were to find out…” Her voice trails off, but the words left unsaid might as well be shouted.
“Does she stay there by choice?”
“Maybe by circumstance and out of habit. Some warped loyalty to my father. I tried getting her to leave with me. She refused.” A glassy sheen glosses over her eyes. There’s a noticeable weight slouching her shoulders as well.
I read the mood for what it’s become. “Thanks for sharing all that with me, sweetness. The trust you’ve placed in me won’t be taken for granted.”
She blinks in rapid succession to chase away unshed tears and haunting memories. “I appreciate you listening. It’s not the most glamorous tale.”
“Anything you have to say is what I want to hear.” I smile, but the expression probably resembles a rusty gear. “Should we change the subject?”
Relief expels from her. “Yes, please.”
I push away from the table. “How about I take care of these dishes first? It’s your turn to stay put.”
Callie emits a strangled shout that would startle most wildfire. “No.”
The refusal halts my motion and I remain seated. “No?”
Her wide stare is locked on me. “It’s not allowed.”
“I beg to differ.”
“There’s only so much change I can manage in such a short period of time. This”—she motions between us while red splotches spread across her cheeks—”is an inappropriate practice where I came from. Unwed couples don’t socialize unless there are chaperones present.”
“Is this uncomfortable for you?” And then I recall how close we were in the kitchen earlier. I crashed into her personal space without consideration. “Have I pushed your boundaries? If you’d prefer to invite others to join us—”
The flash in her eyes cuts me off. “I’m comfortable with you, Ridge. Very much so. But your concern is very considerate. Admirable even.”
“Real glad to hear it, sweetness. Puts me at ease.” I wipe fake sweat off my forehead.
A brief rest follows where her thoughts fill the room. I watch as indecision plays out across her features. A fresh blush colors her face and it takes heroic effort I didn’t know I possessed to remain on this side of the table. After what feels like a painfully long delay where gratification dangles just out of reach, she rises from her chair.
“Would you do me a favor?”
“Yes,” I answer without hesitation. “Whatever you need or want.”
Her responding grin is small but bright. She could request anything, and I’ll agree for the sole purpose of keeping that happiness aimed at me. “Can we take a picture together for my scrapbook?”
My brain misfires and screeches to a standstill. That is… not what I expected. I might blackout momentarily from the sweetness overload. This fucking girl. Always keeps me guessing. She’s innocent and adorable, but there’s a bold spark suppressed under the surface. That flicker is desperate to expand. I plan to coax that flare from hiding and nurture the flames as they grow wild. There isn’t a better way to spend the rest of my days.
Others in her position would crumble and sacrifice their identity. She fought for herself, leaving everyone and everything behind. Talk about admirable. She’s my sweetest reward. One that I didn’t earn. At least not yet.
“I’d love nothing more than to capture this moment with you,” I eventually croak. “It’s an honor to be featured as a worthy memory.”
That plump bottom lip is trapped between her teeth again. “You don’t think it’s silly?
“Absolutely not. I’m all for documenting our progress. Maybe you’ll show me what you’re making.”
“Maybe. It’s very personal for me.”
After dropping that declaration, Callie disappears down the hallway and returns a minute later. A Polaroid camera that looks like the original model is clutched protectively in her grip.
I gawk at the relic. “Where did you find that? Memory Lane?”
Her brow furrows at my mention of the antique store in town. “It was a gift from my mom. To be honest, it’s difficult to find film that fits. A package of ten exposures is expensive. I only use it for special occasions.”
“Damn, you know how to compliment me.”
I’m transfixed as she creeps forward. Each step closer whips my pulse to a full gallop. My arm lifts in invitation and she only hesitates for a measured inhale before pressing herself into my side. I fight the urge to tighten my grasp while she melts against me.
“Smile,” Callie prompts.
I don’t bother glancing at the lens, not when she fills my entire field of vision. She’s all I see, and I hope that comes across as her finger pushes the shutter button. The whir from the camera churning out the image cracks our pose. She snatches the picture that’s spit out.
“It takes a few minutes to develop.” There’s a tremble in her fingers when she sets the shot face-down on the table.
I chuckle and am almost startled by the raspy notes. “You’re hilarious.”
“Am I?”
“Haven’t laughed in what feels like ages.”
Callie beams at me, bright enough to bathe my face in warmth. “Thanks for making my first date memorable.”
“Your first? Never been on a date before?”
She looks scandalized by the idea. “Of course not.”
The story she shared earlier loops back to remind me how impossible that would’ve been in her previous situation. My chest swells from the claimed honor belonging to me. “Well, this is just the beginning. I have a good feeling this is the first of many things for us.”
“Really?” She twists her lips. “You’ve probably experienced everything already.”
“Not what truly matters. Those I’ve saved for you.”
Callie gasps, searching the honesty in my gaze for any cracks of deceit. “Promise?”
“Yeah, sweetness. I promise.”