Page 95 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

“I’M ALMOST READY,” Callie called from the bathroom.

It had taken most of the morning, but Everett had finally convinced Callie to come to his place for dinner. Justin and Val had gotten home the day before, and his dad had called to say that Justin would be on his best behavior. They were going to watch the game, and Val’s sisters were coming over to look at honeymoon photos. Callie had said she didn’t want to intrude, but with so many people joining them, that argument fell by the wayside.

“Take your time.” He grabbed a soda from the fridge and popped the top.

Everett took a drink and went back into the living room. Everything in Callie’s house was older, as if she’d scoured antique stores to find just the right pieces. Everett was afraid to set his drink down on the side table because the fancy, intricate design of the wood looked vintage, and he didn’t want to cause water damage. “Hey, where are your coasters?”

“What?”

“Never mind.” He started opening drawers on the little table. When one opened wide, Everett stopped and stared. There were dozens of letters inside, all unopened. Everett took one of them and read the return address name on the front.

Who was Tristan Anderson?

Just then Everett heard the hair dryer shut off, and he put the letter back inside the drawer.

Callie came out of the bathroom a moment later, fluffing her hair out of her face. She was wearing a pair of jeans, with a flowing peasant blouse in rich crimson.

“What do you think?” She smoothed her hands over the shirt and jeans, looking nervous and adorable.

Everett got up with his Coke and set it on the bar. “I think you look beautiful.”

Callie blushed. “Thank you.”

He slid his hands over her hips and up her back, under the shirt.

“Ah, cold hands!” Callie grabbed behind her at his wrists.

“Sorry, I couldn’t find any coasters.”

He pulled his hands out of her shirt and kissed her, lazily playing with her lips and tongue until she melted against him, her mouth opening under his.

“What if we went back to the bedroom? I can do that thing you like . . . ”

“But we’ll be late,” she murmured.

“No one will miss us.”

He tried to pull her back down the hallway, but Callie laughed and wiggled away from him. “Yes, they will, and I’m not going to lie to Fred.”

“Who said I was going to lie? We’ll be there . . . eventually.” Everett started to chase after her, but Ratchet stepped in front of him, leaning his weight on Everett’s legs.

“See? Even Ratchet thinks it’s a bad idea,” she said.

“Ratchet doesn’t think anything except ‘where’s my food, where’s my master, and where do I do my business?’ ”

“Don’t listen to him, boy.” Callie knelt down to kiss the dog’s muzzle, and Everett made a face.

“And I was going to kiss you again too.” Everett smirked when she glared at him.

“I kissed his fur.” She shrugged into her black peacoat and wrapped a paisley scarf around her neck. Everett loved her in jeans and a T-shirt, but the feminine details she’d added today, all for dinner with his family, filled him with pride that she loved him. That she was his.

And he loved moments like this, where they could tease and play. It almost made the lingering doubts worth it.

Almost.

“Still, I don’t want to pick dog hair out of my teeth.” Everett grabbed his coat off the back of the couch and came up alongside her as she opened the door.

“That’s fine,” she said. “You don’t ever have to kiss me again.”