Page 76 of My Best Years

“It’s a representative for one of my clients,” he sighs while staring down at his phone. “Let me get this; it’ll take two seconds.”

“Sure,” I nod in understanding. “Go ahead.”

His lips curve up in an apologetic smile before he turns and walks into my kitchen. It doesn’t bother me that he stepped away because I know he has to keep everything confidential, especially since he’s working with cases involving minors.

As a nurse, I fully understand how important confidentiality is. It was drilled into us during nursing school.

After a few minutes of hearing his muffled voice in the background, he ends the call and walks back into the living room.

“I’m sorry about that.” He grabs the back of his neck in frustration, looking on edge.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it was a call for one of my clients. We’re due in court in less than a week, and they want to make a few changes to their contract, which is a shit ton of paperwork, approvals, and signatures. So I’ll need to get started on that today.”

“Damn,” I mutter. “Well, I’ve already taken up enough of your time today. You should head home so you can get started.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” he nods. “But I’ll finish the job here first before I leave.”

“I can handle it,” I toss out. “You’ve already helped me enough.”

“It’ll take me five minutes max to open all the vents.”

“Exactly,” I respond. “Which is why I can handle it. Youhave a real job to get back to, and I’m off today. I got it. Seriously, don’t worry.”

Callum places a hand on his broad hip and tosses me a dull stare.

“Why are you being so stubborn, Birdie?” he deadpans. “Just let me help you.”

I narrow my eyes at him and cross my arms over my chest.

“You know what? It’s kind of offensive that you don’t think I can do it myself. It’s literally as simple as flipping a switch.”

He arches a brow.

“It’s offensive that I’m offering to help out?”

“No, it’s offensive that you think I can’t flip a damn switch on an air vent, all because I’m a woman or some shit.”

He chuckles and rolls his eyes.

“Okay, now you’re just putting words in my mouth,” he retorts. “I did not say that.”

“You might as well have.”

He clicks his tongue before flashing me a smug grin.

“Are we having our first adult fight, Birdie Wren?”

Damn him.

I hate that he’s trying toBirdie Wrenme right now when I’m trying to make a point. He knows it’s my weakness.

“We will be if you don’t let me open my own goddamn vents.”

His brows shoot up to his forehead as his smile grows wider.

“Damn, you’ve gotten feistier with age,” he quips. “I have to admit, it kind of turns me on.”

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