Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 514(@200wpm)___ 411(@250wpm)___ 342(@300wpm)
Instead, I came to a city that made me lonelier than ever and Callie went to Paris and thrived there.
Life was ironic that way.
“It took me a while to get up the courage to go alone, but a few years ago I decided it was now or never.”
“And you’re glad you went?”
“I loved living there and learning and experiencing another culture … but I think I loved it because I knew I’d return home to my family at the end of the adventure.”
“To Ardnoch.”
She nodded.
“I’m proud of you,” I said quietly. “Am I allowed to say that?”
A strange expression crossed her face for a moment. Then she nodded. “Of course. I’m proud of you too. You set out to do exactly what you wanted. And here you are in London, about to start your career at a prestigious design firm.” Callie’s gaze dropped and she shook her glass at me. “Got any more?”
I nodded and stood up. When I reached for her glass, our fingers brushed. Callie snapped her hand back like she’d been burned.
This time, it didn’t hurt. This time her reaction gave me hope.
An hour later, my skin was flushed from my fourth whisky, and I could tell by the slight glassiness of Callie’s eyes she was feeling the effects too.
“Don’t you worry about her?” Callie had kicked off her shoes and was curled up on the end of the sofa. Her elbow rested on the back, while she leaned her head on her palm. “Sometimes when we talk, I feel like she’s got this wall up. And I don’t remember Eilidh ever having a wall up.”
I nodded, because I knew exactly what she meant. For the past hour, we’d talked about everything and nothing, skirting the tension between us and catching each other up on our families. Currently, we were discussing Eilidh’s career and her sudden overnight fame. “She says she can handle it, but I wonder if she’s too proud to admit that maybe she wasn’t quite as ready for this life as she thought. Probably because my uncles tried to warn her, and she was so adamant that she could deal with it all.”
“Have you tried talking to her?”
“Of course. She tells me she’s great. Never better. And then she changes the subject.”
“Yup. That’s exactly what she does to me.”
My tongue a wee bit loose from the whisky, I said, “I’m glad you and she remained friends after our breakup.”
Callie stared at me, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed. “It wasn’t Eilidh’s fault.”
Her tone suggested she thought it was mine. I sighed. Heavily.
“You’re like a different person,” she whispered sadly.
That made me frown because I didn’t think I’d changed that much.
“Not a different person.” She waved off that thought. “Just older and a little changed for being older. I didn’t see you become who you are now and … it’s weird.”
“How so?”
“The tattoos.” She gestured to my arm. “The bike. The beard. The man bun.”
My lips twitched at how angry she sounded on the words man bun. “You don’t like it?”
She rolled her eyes on a huff. “You know you look good, Adair. Don’t fish for compliments.”
I grinned. “You look good too. Better than good. You look sexy as fuck.”
Her eyes flared. “Don’t flirt with me.”
“I’m not. I’m merely observing and speaking a truth. You grew up sexy, Callie Ironside.”
Callie’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red at the hoarseness in my voice. “That’s something else that’s different about you. You never used to be so flirtatious.”
“I used to compliment you all the time.”
“That was different. You’d call me beautiful. But the Lewis I knew was reserved with that stuff.”
“I’m not now,” I promised.
She shook her head, sitting up. “No doubt you’ve had plenty of practice flirting with a smorgasbord of women over the last seven years.”
If only she knew. “As opposed to all the practice you had with Remy and Gabriel and whatever other French bastard you let taste you.”
Her eyes flashed. “Taste me? Really? And how do you know their names?”
“Eilidh,” I lied. “She’s a wealth of information about how easily you got over me, sweetheart. How many guys have there been?”
“None of your business. Just like it’s none of my business how many women you’ve slept with.”
Jealousy was a tight ball of heat in my chest. Possessiveness made my brain foggy. Or maybe it was the whisky. Or both. But right then, all I wanted to do was throw this woman—my woman—over my shoulder and then on my bed so I could erase every single man she’d ever been with. “Funny how it still feels like my business.”
Ten
CALLIE
Igaped at Lewis in disbelief. Who was this guy? Anticipation and indignation coursed through me, and I found I couldn’t stay sitting. Slowly, I got to my feet and then shook my head. “You did not just say that.”