Page 57 of Your Place or Mine

And that was what really got to me.

Because I wasn’t used to that.

Back in the city, most people saw what I let them see—the version of myself I curated—the nice, polished, design-educated woman who knew how to read a trend report and forecast wallpaper palettes like stock prices.

But Callum?

He looked at me like he saw right through it.

Like he saw the woman underneath. Like he saw the version who doubted herself more than she admitted, who was still grieving, still fumbling through this new version of her life with hope in one hand and fear in the other.

He saw too much.

And I didn’t know how to be comfortable with that.

I got up and wandered to the window, pressing my forehead lightly to the cool glass. The street below was still. The sign at the Rusty Stag glowed faintly down the block, warm and golden.

Was he still there?

Probably. From what Riley had said, he practically lived in that place. Which made sense. He’d poured himself into it. Made it more than just a bar. It was a piece of him.

No wonder he didn’t want anyone coming in with ideas or suggestions or, God forbid, paint.

And maybe I could’ve handled that better.

Maybe I didn’t need to come in so strong. Maybe if I’d tried a softer approach—sat down with him, asked him about the bar’s history instead of marching in like I had all the answers…

But then again, would it have made a difference?

Callum didn’t strike me as the kind of guy who changed his mind easily.

Still. There was something there. Something electric and dangerous and far too tempting.

I wrapped my arms around myself.

Melanie had teased me about catching feelings, but this wasn’t that. Not yet.

It was something else. A pull. A slow burn. A curiosity I couldn’t quite extinguish.

But curiosity could get you into trouble.

And I’d had enough trouble to last me a lifetime.

I pulled away from the window and blew out a breath.

“Okay,” I said quietly to the room. “Time to reset.”

I’d give myself the day to stew in it. To feel everything conflicted and confused and a little too aware of a man who probably hadn’t given me a second thought since I walked out of his bar.

But tomorrow?

Tomorrow, I’d get back to work. I’d call the next contractor on the list. I’d meet with Riley again or June. I’d knock out more of the hallway painting. I’d keep showing up and doing the damn thing.

And Callum?

Well, he could either get used to me or keep growling from the sidelines.

Either way, I wasn’t going anywhere.

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