Читать книгу Hometown Courtship - Diann Hunt - Страница 12

“Come on, Brad, it’s only a sprain. You’ll be on crutches for two, three days. What’s the big deal?” Ryan said.

Rain pelted the windows of Brad’s house, interrupting Hammer’s slumber. The Lab scratched behind his ear, then sauntered into the kitchen, leaving Brad stranded in the living room.

“The big deal? The big deal?” The words wrapped around his esophagus and threatened his air supply. Brad took a long, ragged breath and propped his leg on a pillow while reclining on the sofa. “The big deal is I am trying to build a house.”

“A couple of days on crutches won’t kill you.” The phone wire crackled with the thunderstorm, matching Brad’s mood.

A low, throbbing pain started at the back of his head and radiated forward. “Listen, I’ve got to go. My head aches and I need something to eat.”

“You want Brianna to bring you over something?”

You’ve done enough already, thank you. “No. I’ll just grab something.”

“You need to learn to cook. There are times when you might not be able to get to the restaurant.”

Just once he’d like Ryan to take off his big brother hat.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. You will never find me in the kitchen. I have an aversion to working in a kitchen. Call me a male chauvinist, but it’s not my thing.”

“You might not want to mention that on first dates.” Ryan laughed.

“Talk to you later.” Brad hung up the phone, feeling grumpier than ever. He reached for the pain pills the hospital had given him and took two. His stomach growled. Hammer’s paws clacked against the hardwood. With his plastic food bowl clutched between his teeth, Hammer stopped at the sofa in front of Brad. Then he dropped it.

“This is your second fill-up today. I’ve yet to eat anything.”

Hammer plunked down on his haunches, lifted sad eyes and commenced with a soulful whine.

“You know, that little act could make you a Hollywood star.” Brad snatched the bowl and his crutches and stood up. “You owe me.” He was headed toward the kitchen when the doorbell rang.

If his mood got any worse, he’d have to hole himself up in a padded cell, he thought, hobbling to the door. “If you’re not a Girl Scout selling cookies, go away.” The hinges creaked as the door swung open.

There stood Callie Easton under a red-and-white polka-dotted umbrella big enough to cover a baseball team. It all but screamed to his nosy neighbors to sit up and take notice. She stood there smiling.

Couldn’t she think of anything better to do?

“Whoa, looks like I came in the nick of time,” she said, smiling brightly.

Brad continued to stare at her. It irritated him to no end that someone could be that happy all the time. Okay, his mood was so bad he didn’t even want to be around himself.

“Color me biased,” she said, pointing at the dog food bowl, “but I think you’ll prefer this.” She nodded toward her own dish.

He forced a weak laugh. They stood there in awkward silence.

“Um, it’s kind of wet out here. Mind if I come in?”

Cold chills swept over him. The smell of danger was in the air. Or maybe it was the smell of fear.

His.

“Yeah, sure. Come on in.” Though he thought better of it, he stepped away from the door so she could slip inside.

“I felt so bad about what happened at work. And I couldn’t help wondering if I caused it somehow. All those nails rolling everywhere, me laughing, the others joining in—”

Yeah, thanks for bringing it all up again.

“—so where’s your kitchen?”

“This way.” He adjusted his crutches and walked ahead of her. “You didn’t need—”

“Cooking is something I enjoy doing now and then, when I have the time.” She started to place the hot dish on the counter then turned to him. “You have a towel you can put here so the heat doesn’t hurt your counter?” She looked down. “Oh, hi, Hammer.”

The dog trotted over to her as though they were the best of friends. No more treats for that Benedict Arnold. Generic dog food. Starting tomorrow.

“Yeah, let me get it.” He hobbled over to the drawer, pulled out a towel and laid it down haphazardly.

Callie put the casserole dish on top. “Hope you like lasagna.” Before he could respond, she said, “I have breadsticks and salad in the car. I’ll be right back.”

What was she up to? He watched her head out the door. She was dressed to kill, and he was afraid he just might be the victim. He’d better be careful. She could be in on this plan with his brother.

While she was outside, he hobbled as fast as he could to the bathroom to check his hair. He ran a quick comb through it, then went back out to meet her. There was no law that said he couldn’t look nice.

“Oh, there you are. I wondered where you’d disappeared to.” She placed the other food on the counter.

He noticed she was barefoot. Her perfectly manicured red toenails made him stiffen. Princess.

She caught him looking. “I didn’t want to mess up your floor with my dirty shoes.”

The sincerity in her voice softened him. His brother had made him paranoid with his sneaky matchups, and Brad found it hard to relax where Ryan was concerned. But looking at Callie just now, he couldn’t imagine Ryan had anything to do with this.

He took a deep breath. “This is really nice, Callie. But there’s way too much food here.”

She shrugged. “Don’t you believe in leftovers?”

“No, I never have leftovers.”

She blinked.

“I never cook. Always go out to eat, so there aren’t leftovers.” He started to say something about kitchen work not being his forte, but he remembered his brother’s words and kept his mouth shut.

Which was stupid, really, considering he had no intention of having a relationship with this woman.

“Always eat out?” She looked around his kitchen, and he wondered if he should apologize. For what, he didn’t know.

“Nothing wrong with that. There’s only me. And I like to eat out.” His words sounded gruff, but he was okay with that.

“Oh, I understand perfectly,” she said with irritating amusement in her voice. “You don’t have to explain to me.”

“I wasn’t explaining to you, I was merely—” His jaw twitched. Why did he get defensive around her? She was a nice woman and he acted like a jerk when she was around. The throbbing in his ankle now matched the pounding in his head. He blamed his attitude on that.

She held up her hand. “I didn’t come here to fight.” She glanced at his ankle. “Besides, I’d just have to trip you and I’d win.” She laughed.

The pain in his ankle increased tenfold.

“Let’s start again. I came here to give you dinner.” She pointed at his foot. “I hear you sprained it.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad it’s not broken.”

He took a deep breath, trying to keep his aggravation to himself. The medication kicked in and his eyelids drooped.

“Well, I’d better go. Just wanted to drop that off,” she said cheerfully. Callie started to walk past him and he grabbed her arm. Her soft, slender, warm-to-the-touch arm. “Don’t go,” he whispered.

Surprise flared in her eyes.

“There’s so much food here. Stay and have dinner with me.” He heard himself say it but couldn’t believe the words had jumped out of his own mouth. The meds brought back the niceness in him. He knew it had to be deep down in there somewhere.

She hesitated.

“Please?” What is the matter with me? Run, hide, before it’s too late!

“Okay.”

They stood there a moment looking at each other, and adrenaline shot through him. He would not fall for this woman. But there was no law that said he couldn’t enjoy her company.

Just this once.

It was all Callie could do not to laugh at the way Brad maneuvered around the kitchen. She wasn’t the cruel sort, but it was obvious this man wasn’t used to physical pain or inconvenience.

“That was a great meal, really, Callie. Thank you.” Brad settled onto the sofa beside her.

“You’re welcome.” Her fingers worked through the back of her hair. She hoped it wasn’t too flat from the rain.

“Where did you learn to cook like that?”

She shrugged. “Aunt Bonnie doesn’t enjoy cooking, and she’s always been too busy running the Peaches & Cream businesses to spend much time in the kitchen. So, wanting to help her out, I sort of picked it up myself. Watching the cooking channels helps.”

“Well, I’m impressed. As I said, I avoid the kitchen.”

“It’s always good to challenge yourself, you know.”

“Oh, are you the expert now?” he teased.

“Well, I am building a house, after all.” She straightened in her seat and took a contented breath.

“You think you could take over for me tomorrow so I could let my ankle heal?”

She whipped her head around to him and he laughed.

“For a minute there, I thought you were serious.”

He leaned in toward her and whispered, “I was serious.” He winked.

His breath brushed against her cheek. Chill bumps climbed her arms. She wanted to move but couldn’t so much as breathe. Brad looked deeply into her eyes, then traveled down to her mouth as his head tilted forward, leaning closer, closer. She couldn’t believe this was happening, not after the way he’d treated her on the site. Did Brad Sharp actually…like her? Like the slight touch of a breeze, his lips barely lit upon hers. And she let out a hiccup that shook the sofa.

Her eyes flew open. Brad blinked and pulled away.

It was a curse. Thanks, Mom.

Callie mentally shook herself. What was she thinking? By the look on Brad’s face, she’d say the situation had caught him by surprise, as well. Or maybe it was just the hiccup.

“It’s getting late. I’d better be going. Just bring my dishes to the work site whenever you’re finished with them.” Practically sprinting to the door, she turned with a wave before he could haul himself off the sofa. “Hope you feel better.” Hiccups punctuated the night air as she scurried to her car.

Once inside, Callie tried to catch her breath and straighten out her thinking. She wasn’t sure why she’d decided that bringing Brad dinner was a good idea. Maybe because she felt bad about his ankle, or because she wanted to find out if he, too, thought it was suspicious that she’d been sent to his job site and he’d been sent to her salon. But it certainly hadn’t occurred to her that they’d end up almost kissing on his couch.

It was probably just the painkillers, that’s all. Well, that would explain his behavior—but it wouldn’t explain the fact that her heart was still pounding from the feel of his lips on hers.

Hiccup.

Brad put his palm against his forehead and leaned his head against the back of the sofa. His mind was cloudy from the meds, but he was alert enough to know he had just tried to kiss Callie Easton. What was the matter with him? Number one, he refused to get entangled with a woman his brother had forced on him, and number two, he’d only known her for a few days. Not only that, but he wasn’t staying in Burrow forever. So what was the point of a relationship here? He had to blame it on the meds. He just didn’t work that fast under normal circumstances. Now she probably thought he was a real player.

“I blew it again,” he said, feeling Hammer’s head pushing against his hand. “A lot of help you are. I know you’re the friendly sort, but where’s your allegiance, huh?” Brad scratched behind his pooch’s ears. “You need to keep me away from her, not make her your new best friend.”

He’d have to watch himself in the days ahead and stay away from Callie at all costs. Keep their relationship on a purely professional level. A few weeks and it would all be over…until his brother sent over someone else. Though something told him someone else wouldn’t have the same power over him as Callie Easton.

The smell of sweet apple conditioner filled the air. Callie tried to relax while Jessica ran the warm water over her hair. “I will so pay you back for this, Jessica. I promise.”

“Don’t worry about it. I told you I have nothing to do tonight anyway. Besides, I didn’t have that many appointments this afternoon.”

“I will name my firstborn after you. I’ve always liked the name Jessica, so that will work just fine, don’t you think?”

Jessica laughed. “That will be the day.” Jessica worked the conditioner through Callie’s hair.

“Hey, what do you mean by that?”

“Only that your aunt has been trying to hook you up for years.”

Why did people constantly pressure her to find someone? Marriage wasn’t for everybody. If she was happy with her life as it was, why couldn’t they leave her alone?

“Is the water too hot?” Jessica asked.

“No, it’s perfect.”

“I’ve waited all through the color and highlights, so now you want to tell me what’s going on?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Come on, Callie. We both know you only color your hair when you’re really, really upset. You have issues, girlfriend.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

“Now spill it.”

Callie sighed. “Brad sprained his ankle because of me, so I brought him dinner as a peace offering. And he almost…kissed me.”

“Do you like him?” Jessica turned off the water and rubbed Callie’s hair with a towel.

“I’m confused. I thought he didn’t like me. But I guess he’s a friend.”

“Is that all?”

“Yes.” Callie pushed the lever to lower the bottom half of her reclining chair.

“Is that all you want him to be?” Jessica led the way to her station.

“Ye-yes.”

“Are you sure?”

Callie slid into the chair. “Jessica?”

“Yes?”

“Could you stop asking me these questions?”

Jessica laughed. “Suit yourself.”

Callie steered the conversation to safe waters during her trim. Jessica didn’t push, for which Callie was thankful.

“I love it, Jess.” Callie swirled around in her chair and looked at the back through a handheld mirror. “I haven’t had light brown hair in forever.” She wondered if Brad would like it, then wondered if she should be wondering that.

“It’s really a good look for you, Cal.” Jessica glanced at the clock. “Well, now I really do need to get home. My favorite show is coming on in fifteen minutes.” Jessica finished sweeping the hair from her station.

Callie gave her a hug and sneaked a twenty into Jessica’s purse when she wasn’t looking. “See you tomorrow.”

“Let me know what he thinks of it,” Jessica called out.

“Who?”

Jessica just smiled. “Good night, Callie.”

Brad glanced at his watch. Callie had been so careful to be on time at the site since that first day. After last night things would no doubt be a little awkward between them. He was an idiot. He had no intention of getting involved with this woman—or anyone else, for that matter, and yet he did something stupid like that. What if she didn’t show up again? He’d have to tell his brother the truth so that she didn’t get in trouble. Brad shifted on his crutches. That was all he needed.

If she didn’t show up in the next ten minutes, he’d call her and tell her that despite what happened last night, she was still expected to show up for duty.

A car pulled up in front of the job site, and the Sauders family piled out.

“Good morning, Brad,” Mick said, stepping up to the house.

“Morning, Mick and Andrea.” Brad looked at Micah. “How come you’re not in school?” He ruffled her blonde curls, and she lifted the snaggletoothed grin of an eight-year-old.

“We’re headed there now. Thought we’d stop by and see how things were coming first,” Mick said.

Brad walked the family through the framing, showing the progress they were making, pointing out where each room will be and introducing some of the volunteers. Brad walked over to a woman whose back was to them. He didn’t recognize her. “And this is—” He waited for her to turn around, but she didn’t. She just kept hammering. He looked at the Sauders and they smiled.

Micah walked up to the woman and tapped her on the arm.

She turned around. Three nails were gripped between her lips. She pulled them free, then yanked the earbuds from her ears, music spilling from them. “Oh, hello,” she said.

Brad was speechless—again. It was Callie, with someone else’s hair.

She tossed a brief glance at Brad, then quickly looked back toward the family.

“Uh, Callie Easton, this is the Sauders family. They will be moving into this home.”

Callie took in a sharp breath. “Oh my, it’s so nice to meet you!” She pumped their hands with great enthusiasm. “It’s so fun to put the faces with the work—you know what I mean?”

They stared at her, blankly.

“You know, you work and work and have no idea who you’re doing it for or if they’ll like it or if they’ll want to move first chance they get. You wonder what kind of family they are, you know, the lively type or the—”