Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
I shrug, trying not to notice the droplets of water—or sweat? or both?—that glisten on their chests. I remember what it felt like to run my hands over them, around their smooth, firm shoulders and down their arms. “You’ve done enough,” I say.
“We’re not trying to meet a quota,” Max says.
I don’t know what to say to that, so I just shrug again.
Miles has hardly said anything, but his eyes have been fixed on me. “Do you have dinner plans?” he asks suddenly, catching me off guard.
“No … um, no, I don’t have plans.”
“Let us take you out to dinner. Please.” The intensity in his expression has me pinned in place. It makes it impossible for me to say no.
“Okay … I guess.”
“Great. We’ll pick you up at seven?”
These plans suddenly seem to be happening too quickly, and I’m not at all sure I should be alone in a car with them. Not because I don’t trust them, but because their presence is already exerting some kind of invisible pull on me right here on the sidewalk. Sitting across from them at a restaurant will be challenging enough.
“I’ll meet you. Just let me know where.”
Both brothers frown identical frowns. “How about we’ll arrange a ride for you, then you can either take a ride-share back home, or we’ll take you,” Max says.
“Fine. That’s fine.”
Max nods his head once. “Great. We’ll see you tonight.”
“See you later, Callie,” Miles says.
I turn and go back inside my house, and despite moving away from the spot where they washed my car, I feel like I'm on a very slippery slope.
CHAPTER 63
MAX
This is our big chance. Most likely, our one last chance, and that’s a lot of pressure to put on a dinner.
We managed to secure a last-minute reservation at the best place in town, and now we’re standing outside their entrance waiting for Callie’s arrival, the weight of our future heavy on our shoulders.
Finally, her ride pulls up, and Miles opens the door to let her out. She’s gorgeous in a simple pink dress, her hair falling in soft waves. The only flaw in her appearance is the uncertain look in her eyes, which stirs up all the pain and regret that’s never far from my mind.
I hope we can see her eyes smiling again, like they used to.
As the car pulls away, Miles hands her the small bouquet of flowers we brought for her. “For you.”
“Thank you. You didn’t have to—” She stops herself from objecting, and simply says, “Thank you. They’re very pretty.”
“Not nearly as pretty as you.”
“You look beautiful,” I add. It hurts not to be able to greet her with a touch and a kiss, but I know that’s not what she would want from me right now.
The host shows us to our table, right near a window, as promised. Ocean and sky fill the view, and it’s about time for the sun to set. All the physical details are in place; the rest is up to us.
Callie takes a seat and puts her purse on the chair next to her, leaving Miles and me to sit across the table.
“Thanks for coming out with us, Callie,” I say as soon as we get seated. “We’ve missed you.”
Her lashes drop as she glances toward the table. “I’ve missed you, too.”
My chest inflates with hope. Maybe tonight won’t be as hard as I’ve been expecting.
“We assumed you didn’t want to see us,” Miles says.
“You were right. I haven’t wanted to see you, but I still miss you.” She shrugs and shakes her head. “It doesn’t make sense, but there it is.”
A waitress appears with menus and information about daily specials. We order a bottle of wine, and then we’re alone again. I glance at the menu, decide that the first thing I see sounds fine, and then wait for Callie to finish reading.
“It makes perfect sense,” I say as soon as she sets her menu down.
“What?” A few minutes have passed, so she’s confused about what I’m referring to.
“You said you didn’t want to see us, but you missed us, and it makes sense. You missed us, because the connection we have is strong, and it’s rare. Neither of us have ever felt a connection like that with someone before.”
Callie toys with her fork, pressing the tines against the tablecloth. “But our connection was based on lies.”
“It’s true that we lied to you, but only about the case. We never lied about our feelings for you. Our connection was real.”
She shakes her head. “It’s hard to believe that.”
We’re interrupted yet again to place our orders. We should have invited Callie to our place for dinner, but if she didn’t want us to drive her here, it’s unlikely she would have come over.
When the waitress walks off, Callie says, “It’s been nice of you to send the coffee and other things, but you can stop. Before I met you, I had no interest in dating anyone and absolutely no interest in relationships. While we were at the resort, I suffered a huge lapse in judgment, which only ended up reinforcing my convictions. I can’t trust my judgment, and it’s much easier just to be alone.”