I appreciate the distraction. “Yeah.”
“What about Cami?”
“I have—had—a baby monitor before I tripped.”
His lips turn down into a frown. “That thing is a death trap.”
Another pinch against my skin has me grinding my teeth together. “Then why were you out there?”
“Because one of us was blessed with a gift called balance.”
I pop one eye open to give him the stink-eye. “You scared me, and I ended up tripping over a nail that was sticking out.”
“This place is a lawsuit waiting to happen.” He shakes his head with a sigh before returning to prodding and poking at my hands.
“It’s not that bad.”
“You have about twenty splinters embedded in your skin that say differently.”
I can’t tell if his annoyed tone is due to the splinters in my hand or the fact that he is the only one available to take them all out.
“One down. Nineteen more to go.”
Motherfucker.
“There. All done.” Cal solidifies his place in hell as he wipes my hands with rubbing alcohol.
“It feels wrong saying thank you after you tortured me for an hour, but thank you.”
“It was twenty minutes tops, you big baby.” He doesn’t make an effort to let go of my hands yet.
“You smiled when I screamed, you psychopath.”
“It brought back good memories.”
I smack him in the chest, only to wince when my sore skin makes contact. “Ouch.”
“Let that be a lesson that physical violence is never the answer.” He flicks my nose.
“Says the man who tried to choke a police officer.”
His nostrils widen. “We’re back to this again?”
“I’m not sure I’ll ever let that go so long as I live.” I pull out my phone and show him the photo Isabelle sent me.
His mouth drops open. “She sent it to you?”
“Yup. Right before she promised to delete it off her phone.”
“So, you’re the only one with a copy?” He takes a step forward.
“No.” I’m concentrating so much on him encroaching in my space that I don’t notice my nose twitching until after it happens.
Goddammit.
He holds out his hand. “Let me see your phone.”
“Not happening.” I press the lock button on the side as I take another step back.
“Alana.”
“Callahan.”
“Give me the phone.”
“No.” My ass hits the counter.
Cal’s smile widens. “Gotcha.”
I fake left, but he anticipates the move and easily swipes the phone out of my hand.
“Cal!” I jump for the phone.
He raises it high above my head. “Just one moment.”
I’m no match for his height, so I pathetically bounce up and down. He gets distracted by my boobs at one point, staring at them like he hasn’t seen a pair in forever.
“Seriously?” I cross my arms.
He winks before unlocking my phone within three tries.
My mouth falls open. “Are you kidding me?”
“It’s cute your passcode is my birthday.”
“I didn’t—” 0720.
Oh, shit. I totally did.
“I haven’t changed it since I was sixteen.” I offer a logical explanation.
“Sure, you haven’t.”
“It’s easy to remember.” At this point, I’m grasping for straws.
He opens the photo and deletes it before handing my phone back with a smile. “Here you go.”
“I knew I should have submitted it to a gossip magazine like Violet suggested,” I mutter under my breath.
“A pity indeed.” He walks away with the biggest smile on his face.
18
ALANA
The next morning, I wake up to a crew of men from Lopez Luxury fixing the old dock. Hammers pound against the new planks of wood, the old ones nowhere to be seen.
How did you sleep through all that noise?
Cami calls out my name, but I’m too focused on my mission to give her anything more than a quick morning kiss before running out the back door. I rush across the grassy law, my lungs heaving with each ragged breath.
“Wait!” I wave my hands in the air.
One of the workers looks up before signaling to the others. A few stop pounding their hammers while others start talking amongst themselves.
“Where is the old dock?” I press a hand against my chest as I try to regulate my breathing.
“We were told to get rid of it.”
Dammit, Cal. “Where did it go?”
“Our guy just drove off with the dump truck thirty minutes ago.”
My stomach dips. “He left?”
The man nods.
Oh, no.
“Get inside now,” Cal orders from behind me, sending a shiver up my back.
I spin around. “You destroyed my dock.”
“I’m about to destroy a lot more if you don’t get your ass in the house.” His voice is a deep rumble I feel in my gut.
Goose bumps break out across my skin when I glance back at him. “What’s wrong?”
“What isn’t?” His gaze flickers over my body, driving his point home.
I look down and register my PJs for the first time this morning.
No wonder my chest hurt while running. It’s not like I bothered to throw on a bra before sprinting across the lawn like a crazy woman. “Oh, shit.”
“Oh, shit is right. Let’s go.” He motions for me to lead the way.
We only make it a few steps before someone whistles behind us. I look over my shoulder to see who it is. Even without contacts, I can make out Ernie Henderson, the town’s resident redhead and nosy mailman, walking toward me with a box in his hands.
He stops to wave at me. “Lookin’ good, Castillo! Wanna run around a little more for me?”
That little…
Ernie isn’t even interested in women, but if it means getting a rise out of Cal, he will tease me in a heartbeat. He is just like his mother.
Freaking Isabelle.
I lift my middle finger in the air, which makes my shirt rise up. A fresh breeze hits my now-exposed butt. Cal grunts as he yanks his hoodie off before shoving it over my body, making a mess of my hair in the process.
The smell of him surrounds me like a cloak. I sneak in a second sniff, only to be met with Cal’s narrowed eyes.
“What?”
“Get inside. Now.”
I must not move fast enough for Cal because he smacks my ass, making the skin sting with the imprint of his palm.
I pause my ascent up the small hill. “What the hell was that for?”
“I just felt like it.”
“You just felt like smacking my ass?” I lift the hoodie to assess a red outline of Cal’s palm on my left butt cheek.
His eyes darken. “Want me to match the other one?”
“No!” My heart calls me out on the lie, the beats growing fast at the idea of Cal following through on his offer. We never explored anything like that in the past, but the idea excites me.
Would he be the type to smack my ass until I can’t sit right for a week or would he be the kind to take his time— Alana Valentina Castillo!
The fantasy shimmers away, although the lingering effects of arousal remain.