Page 33 of He Loves Me Knot

“Yes, it does. First is kissing, fourth is fucking, and etcetera.”

Her breath hitched at his words. Even talking about this with Callum was so . . .taking my brain places I don’t want it to go.“Then . . . then, no leaving home.”

“You look embarrassed.”

That’s because I am.Liddy shot him a glare. “I swear to God, if you keep being this obnoxious, our fake happily ever after will fall apart sooner rather than later. We still have to work together when this is all over.”

“Agreed.” Callum crossed his arms. “Hand holding and light, affectionate touches it is. Anything else? Some of us have jobs to check in with.”

He really was a workaholic robot. She suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. “Aren’t you supposed to be on vacation?”

“I have too much to do to disconnect for ten days. No matter how good a friend Quinn is. Not to mention that one of the hardest working members of my team is also on holiday.”

She frowned.Does he mean me?

His expression seemed to show that he did.Is this his way of complimenting me on my work?

She steadied herself.Why does it feel like he just called me beautiful or something?

Clasping her hands together, she looked down. “Um, yeah. I guess that makes sense.” She cleared her throat. “Oh, just one more thing. What happens if we don’t find Sergio or get the wedding dress back? I don’t want your sister to get involved in something she had nothing to do with.”

“I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it. But there’s always the old ‘the airline lost the bag,’ excuse.” Callum winked and then went into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

That’s true.

Then Liddy startled.

That had always been true. She clamored over toward the bathroom door. “Wait a second, why didn’t you suggest that to me earlier? Instead of this whole relationship idea?”

Why didn’t I just think of saying that earlier? I could have bought myself some time rather than say I was dating Callum.But she’d been so distraught, and Callum's solution had been a last-minute, desperate grab to control the situation.

The shower went on, and Callum didn’t respond.

Callum had clearly given some thought to her options before this. He just said nothing because it wasn’t convenient for him.

And now I’m stuck.

ChapterEight

Callum finishedhis coffee and closed his laptop, rubbing his tired eyes as he leaned back from his seat. The rest of the day had gone smoothly enough—excusing himself from the Camden wedding hoopla factored largely in that.

For now, though, he had to quit working for the day and make his way back to the hotel before jet lag got the better of him. And it would probably be good for him to show his face occasionally, given he was here for a wedding. Callum wasn’t sure he was ready to jump back into the chaos, but it was part of a groomsman’s duty, wasn’t it? He sighed, giving a wistful glance at his empty cup.

He’d nearly forgotten how much he loved Costa Rican coffee.

And the food.

Now and then, people would bring up Latin American cuisine and extol it for its spiciness. When Dad moved him with his stepmother, Diana, to Connecticut after Callum’s parents had divorced, anyone who found out he was part Costa Rican would ask him if he liked tacos and burritos. As a child, it made him mad. Costa Rican food was fresh and lacking in hot spices, as opposed to Mexican.

But the less he’d cared aboutbeingfrom here, the less it bothered him.

He wound the laptop cord, glancing from his seat toward the main street in front of Samara Beach. The town had grown since he’d last been here, even though it still wasn’t as developed as many of the northern towns on the Pacific coast. No resorts and five-star hotels here. Samara still retained its family-friendly beach-town vibe, which his mother had adored.

Mum had wanted to move someplace like this, where cafés and bars opened right onto the sands of the beach. Where you could walk at night and feel safe but still enjoy some nightlife. Where monkeys and tropical birds could still be spotted in the treetops.

The familiar waft of petrol from a passing shuttle made him wrinkle his nose, and he left the café and started back towardLa Haciendaon foot. The sun hadn’t set yet, and it occurred to him it’d been a while since he’d watched the sun rise or set, unlike in the days of his youth when he’d lived for those moments and spent as much time surfing or playing football on the beach as possible.

Fútbol.The same football that had started his downward spiral.

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