Chapter 4 #2
“Then I’ll handle it differently. I won’t sacrifice you ever again.
” His voice drops lower, more intimate. “I’ll protect you from this day on if you’ll let me.
Leon doesn’t own me anymore. No one does.
The only person who gets to decide my future is me.
And I choose you. Every damn day, I choose you. ”
A huff slips out. “That’s a pretty promise.”
“It’s not a promise. It’s a fact.” The conviction in his voice makes me believe him. “I love you, Lily. I never stopped loving you. And I know you’re scared, but I’m not the same man who let someone else tell me what to do.”
The words slice through me because he doesn’t even know about Jax, doesn’t know there’s someone else I’m comparing him to, and yet somehow he’s offering exactly what Jax never could.
“I have to go,” I whisper.
“Okay. But Lily?”
“Yeah?”
“I meant what I said about dessert. Text me your address, and I’ll bring you something sweet when you’re ready for a break. No pressure. Just...let me take care of you a little.”
“Okay. I’ll text you later.”
“I’ll be waiting until you do.”
“Do you ever work?” I swivel in my chair and gaze out the window.
“I’m working right now.”
“No, you’re on the phone with me.”
“Yeah, and I’ve penned three new songs this afternoon. I’m on a roll.”
“Anything worth sharing.”
“Soon enough, vixen. Soon enough.”
“Ever the cryptic rockstar.”
He sighs. “Nah, just wanna make them shine before I let you hear them.”
“I’m sure they’re perfect.”
He takes a moment of silence. “Thanks.”
“For what?”
“For always believing in me.”
“You’re talented, Callum. There’s no denying that.” I turn back to my desk. “I’m going to need to let you go. I’m swamped and extremely unfocused.”
“Sure thing, but if you need anything, just call.”
“I will.”
“Let me know when I can bring that pie.”
“I said I’d text you later.”
“Promise.”
“Yes.”
We finally hang up, and I’m left clutching my phone, heart hammering because he’s not demanding. He’s just offering to be there for me. And that gentle patience is exactly what’s going to be my undoing.
The house is too quiet after Quinn leaves. I scroll through my phone until my thumb hovers over Callum’s last text. Before I can talk myself out of it, I type.
Me: Still want to come by?
His reply lands in seconds.
Callum: Send the address and I’ll be on my way. What kind of pie?
Me: I’ll drop a link to my house after this. How about ice cream instead?
Callum: Cookie dough still your favorite?
Me: You know it.
Callum: See you soon, beautiful.
A shiver runs through me. I set my phone down, stroll through the rooms one more time, smoothing throws that don’t need smoothing, rearranging candles on the quartz island like they matter. By the time the gate buzzes, my pulse is racing.
I shake out my hands as I wait for him behind the closed front door. It’s silly to feel like this is my first date with him, but I do. I peek out the peephole.
He strides up wearing a T-shirt, black jeans, and that careless grin, and suddenly the mansion doesn’t feel so empty. I open the door before he knocks.
“Welcome.” I show him inside.
“Pacific Palisades suits you.” His gaze sweeps the vaulted entry. “Feels more…you.”
“More me?” I arch a brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing, just a feeling I got walking up.” His smile softens as he steps closer. “Show me around?”
We start in the great room, where glass doors fold back onto a deck that seems to float over the Pacific.
He lingers, fingers brushing the edge of a chair. “Your pops did good. Looks like he didn’t spare on the details.”
“His team is amazing. I’m so glad his designers took on the project and didn’t make me too involved.”
“They were that way with me, too. Just asked a few questions here and there, and took care of everything else.”
“Even the over-the-top security system?”
“Yep. Your pops insisted.”
“He’s obsessed with safety.” I shake my head and lead us into the kitchen.
My center island countertops are white quartz with gray veining. Pendant lights glow low.
He opens a cabinet and nods in approval. “That’s funny.”
“What?”
“They stocked my cupboards with the same dishes.”
“They did not.” I rest my hip against the island.
“True story. Didn’t you notice when you had that grilled cheese and soup?”
“Um…no. I was kind of in my head that night.” I glance out at the ocean view. “Here, let me show you around.”
We wander to the living room with its wall of glass, the studio where I’ve barely unwrapped my supplies, and through the primary suite that’s too big for one. He takes it all in, but doesn’t comment.
Back on the balcony off my bedroom, the sun is dropping behind the curve of the coastline, gilding the water in copper light. Callum leans against the railing with his arms folded.
When he finally speaks, his voice is quieter. “I like this place better than the Malibu house.”
My heart aches just thinking about it. “Really?”
“Yeah. It’s you.”
“How so?”
He shrugs and stares at me with intensity. “This place just feels like you. No one else but you.”
“And the Malibu house doesn’t?”
“No.”
My stomach twists. “What makes you say that?”