Page 54 of Playing Dirty
The bitter irony struck like a lightning bolt. He believed I was on my way to the cabin, eagerly waiting for us to slip into bed together.
I slipped my phone into my pocket, my pulse steadying in a way that surprised even me—the time had come to end this charade.
Silently, I pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit hall. My voice rang out, slicing through the tension.
“I’m right here.”
Matt’s head jerked up at the sound of my voice. For a moment, the surprise lit his face like a match—warm, familiar, practiced. His eyes lingered on mine, and a slow, knowing smile spread across his lips, as if he’d just stumbled across the best thing in his life.
“Callie,” he said, his voice a velvet caress. “You’re here?—”
His gaze shifted, narrowing as it skimmed over me, catching the stiffness in my stance. His eyes traced every inch of me, as if undressing me with his thoughts.
“Where’s the rental car? Where’s Pickles?”
“They are both in town,” I said evenly. “At a friend’s place. I got a ride up here.”
That gave him pause. His eyes darted toward the windows, the door—tiny tells in the way his shoulders tensed. He was cataloging the situation, trying to find the angles.
“Right,” he said after a beat, straightening up like he’d decided to play the devoted boyfriend. He closed the distancebetween us in three long strides, his cologne enveloping me just before his hands did. His touch was both possessive and tender.
“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, pulling me close, his breath hot against my ear. His voice was low, seductive, the kind meant to wrap around a person and sink in. “Every day. Thought about you every night.”
Once, I would have melted into it. Once, I would have believed him.
Not now.
I planted my hands on his chest, feeling the heat of his skin through his shirt, and shoved just enough to put space between us.
Then I slapped him.
“You’re a liar,” I said, my voice shaking with anger, not nerves. “And a cheat.”
Shock flashed across his features, giving way to a flicker of anger before settling into something cooler—calculating. His eyes darkened, a challenge sparking in them.
“What’s this about?” he asked, tone all wounded innocence.
I didn't blink. "If you cared about me, you would've tried to get back here during the storm. You wouldn't have left me wondering where the hell you were for days."
His jaw twitched, but I didn't give him the chance to speak. "And if that wasn't enough, I called the corporate office in Tucson."
That got him. A tiny hitch in his expression, gone almost as fast as it came. He took a half-step toward me, his fingers flexing at his sides like he wanted to grab me.
"They told me you were never there for training. Never. You're a district manager, Matt. And you knew it. You've been lying this whole time."
His mouth tightened before he forced a laugh, shaking his head. "I told you that you were the manager?—"
"You told me it was temporary," I cut in, backing up against the wall, my palm flat against it.
"I wanted to tell you myself," he said quickly, following me, crowding my space until I could smell the mint on his breath. "Callie, I was in Tucson for training. But you know how corporate is—one hand doesn't know what the other's doing. Somebody in that office gave you bad info. That's all this is."
The ease in his tone was the same one he used to smooth over problems with customers. Like he thought he could sell me on this, too. His eyes never left mine, watching for any crack in my resolve.
I ducked under his arm and took a step toward the center of the room, lowering my voice. "And what about your wife? Your kids? Your nice little life outside Lovelace that you didn't bother to mention?"
He froze. His expression didn't change, but something in his eyes flickered—guilt, maybe. Or the realization that he'd just lost control of the narrative. He closed the distance between us in two quick strides.
"That's not true," he said flatly, his breath hot against my face. "You're making things up."
