Page 46 of Tender Heart
She holds up a hand. “No thanks necessary. If you’ve managed to keep my ogre of a brother company and lived to tell the tale, that’s all the thanks I need.”
I can literally hear Callum rolling his eyes.
Iris’s gaze snaps to my left and turns to a glare, and I know I was right.
“Hey, Irry,” Emmett breathes.
Poor guy’s only now taken his first breath since she waltzed through the door.
“Em, happy birthday.” Iris steps to where he stands and dots a peck on his cheek. I can feel the heat from his blush to my right, and I swear molars grind to my left.
Maybe it’s the romance author in me, but I think I have this little scenario figured out. Em is head over heels for his best friend’s little sister. Said best friend is somewhat aware of this. But is it a one-sided attraction? Lord, this shouldn’t excite me as much as it does.
Maybe it’s a good thing Callum is held up on the island...
Still, if tonight is anything to go on, he could be on Mars and Emmett would still not make his move on Iris. Poor guy. I mean, he has a very rational fear—the McCreary to my left is scary. At first.
And it’s in that moment I realize how far Callum and I have come from those first days when he would barely look at me, let alone talk to me. Now?—
“You must be starving! Dinner is almost ready,” Iris says to me before turning to Callum. “Give me a hand, will you?”
After the McCreary siblings disappear into the kitchen, Emmett beckons me to a shelf. The cheek lining his eyes and smile is ridiculous. “Come here! Look at this while he’s gone.”
“What?” I cross the diner to where he stands by a bookshelf.
“Bet you’ve seen that scowl around before.” He wriggles his eyebrows, pointing to a photograph of a teenage boy holding a fish on the line with an older man by him.
“Oh my god.” I turn and look up at him. “I have. That has to be Callum.”
“Yep, and that was his old man.” The words lose their amusement as he looks wistfully at the photo.
I pick it up and stare at the boy and the man. The resemblance is strong. He’s almost the spitting image of his father. They stand in front of a shack of some sort. “Where’s this?”
“Fishing hut. It’s on the southern end of the island.”
Emmett gives me a confused look, as if I should know.
“Oh, I haven’t ventured that far yet.”
“Doubt he’ll take you there. It was kind of their thing.”
“What happened?”
“Which part?”
My mouth gapes a little and I snap it shut, swallowing. “What do you mean?”
“His parents, or his fian?—”
“Dinner’s ready.” Callum’s voice is curt. His face is stone. All the warmth from the past few moments fizzles out.
“Yep, coming,” Emmett says and walks past Callum to round the counter and into the room behind.
I stare at Callum. His gaze lowers to my hand still holding the photograph. Turning back, I set it down on the shelf carefully.
“Callum.” I turn back. “I?—”
He’s in my space. I look up, and instantly his heady scent infiltrates my senses. My heart winds up speed, settling into a clanging rhythm against my ribs.
