Page 111 of Return of the Bad Girl (Rock Canyon, Idaho 4)

“I am not going, so stop calling.”

“Oh, come on, it will be fine!” Caroline Willis said. “You go to Buck’s and Hank’s, so what’s wrong with this?”

Callie shook her head. When Callie had met Caroline back in April, she had been drawn to the other woman because—for lack of a less “romantic” explanation—she’d sensed someone she could relate to. Someone who had her own demons and was fighting her own past, and she’d been right. Yet in all the time since and as the two of them grew closer, Caroline had never questioned Callie or asked about her past. She’d just taken her for who she was now.

Even though Callie loved her for trying to bring her “out of the army tank you’ve climbed into”—Caroline’s words, not hers—Callie had no desire to go to Caroline’s sister’s bachelorette party.

“I already agreed I would DJ the damn wedding, but I have no desire to go out with a group of obnoxious women and watch some greasy dudes gyrate to ‘It’s

Raining Men,’ ” Callie said, catching Dave’s frown as he waved the phone at her, letting her know she had more requests waiting. “This whole thing can wait until I see you this afternoon, right?”

“Fine, but I’m not through with you! If you think I’m going to this thing with just my sisters and their crazy friends, you are dreaming!”

“Good-bye, Caroline.”

Dave held up his finger, and Callie picked up line one. “You’re on the Kat. What can I play for ya?”

“I was thinking a little Blake Shelton, actually,” a deep voice said. The caller’s smile was evident, even over the phone.

Rhett.

Turning off the “record” button, Callie tried to ignore the giddy butterflies fluttering through her stomach. “You’re late.”

“You noticed.”

“Well, you’ve been almost OCD about the time you call for seven months, so it’s a little hard not to.” Callie bit her lip to keep from smiling.

“Well, as a matter of fact, I overslept this morning. Can I just say I’m actually flattered? Were you counting down the minutes?”

Callie’s face burned, and even though he couldn’t see her, she rubbed her cheeks with one hand. “Actually, it’s just because you’re the only person who calls in with any taste.”

“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” she said, turning around in her chair so she couldn’t see Dave and her tech, Sam, making kissy faces at her. “Now, what Blake song do you want to hear?”

“Uh-oh, did I get you in trouble with the boss?”

“No, I just . . . There are just a lot of calls coming in, so I can’t talk as long.”

“I understand,” he said, and there was a pause on the line before he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could talk more later? Off air?”

Callie’s heart pounded. Was he asking for her number?

Real names and numbers made it real. What if he was dangerous? What if she gave him her number and he tracked her down—

“I’m going to take it from your silence that I freaked you out,” he said, breaking into her panicked thoughts. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

He hung up before she could say anything. Without his trademark farewell.

Way to go, you paranoid freak.

Callie didn’t think she was paranoid; she was cautious. Having your fiancé turn into a complete stranger—a violent stranger—six months before your wedding could do that to a person. Thinking of Tristan was painful, and she tried to push him from her mind. Tried to forget their past together. If she didn’t, the nightmares might start up again—and the urge to drink herself into a stupor along with it.

Just then, Dalton came walking in with Ratchet. The minute he let him off leash, the large dog lumbered over and lay his head in Callie’s lap, as if sensing her dark thoughts. Stroking his soft fur, she murmured softly to him until he sat down and eventually flopped to the floor.

“Callie, you’ve got callers holding,” Dave said over the intercom.

Pressing the button, she took the next call, but her thoughts were still on Rhett. Was she ready to let someone in and trust again?