Page 22 of Unexpected Love
Cal has the pink backpack on over another white T-shirt and perfectly broken-in jeans.
“I’ve got it,” I say, as he takes the bag from me with his free hand and opens the shop door with a hip.
“Where to?”
“Uh, over there, in the corner.”
If the front view of those jeans was impressive, the back view is even better.
Why, brain? Why, libido? Why are we sitting up and taking notice this morning?
If he didn’t have so much baggage, I might find an excuse to pay him another visit and explore thisattraction, but Cal is a walking complication, and I have too much on my plate already.
“So, did you guys make it through the night?” I ask, propping the door open in order to make the transfers that much easier.
“All was good until the sun came up. And Belle woke up, didn’t you, sweetheart?”
Gah.
“Uh-huh.” She smiles shyly at me.
“That’s good,” I croak and begin sweating. It was the way he smiled at her when he called hersweetheart. I haven’t seen him as tender and doting, and it’s hella attractive.
“Yeah, we’re headed to day care, and after I drop her off”—he tickles her belly and makes her laugh—“I’m shopping. Again. I feel like I’m bleeding money on kid gear right now.”
“That makes two of us. Except I’m bleeding money trying to open this shop.”
He helps me organize a little more and then makes his way off, with Charlie blowing me kisses over his shoulder. I stifle a smile. She’s adorable, even if I hate to admit it.
It’s a pretty morning, and the sidewalk is filled with people going about their day. I busy myself with supplies until there’s nothing left to organize. And it’s not even nine a.m. I’m still hoping that the contractor got his days mixed up and that today is the day he meant when he sent the text saying he’d “Be there at eight.”
I place yet another call and head up to my apartment to do more organizing there. By lunch, I’m in a fit. I’ve called him no less than five times an hour. Finally, someone answers.
“Hi. This is Jules Lancaster with the coffee shop inSenoma,” I explain, my voice trembling.Why am I nervous? He should know who I am. He works for me. “You guys are supposed to be working on completing the interior of the shop. The materials have been received, and I need to know when you’ll be starting to work.”
“We’ve got a problem.” The guy on the other end of the line sounds a lot younger than the project manager I’ve been working with. “Boone isn’t here.”
“What do you mean?”
“He took off with his mistress.” The words are clipped, angry, and all I can focus on istookandoff. “Kinda left us all high and dry. Haven’t heard from him in days.”
My heart stops. My stomach drops. And I break out in a cold sweat as it becomes increasingly hard to breathe. I’m opening my mouth, trying to find some kind of response.
“What about my coffee shop?” My response is ridiculous and ineloquent, but it’s all I can manage at the moment. I’m so screwed.
“Lady, with all due respect. I don’t give a shit about your coffee shop. This asshole took off with a half million dollars and my wife.”
“Who are you?”
“That’s not important. I only answered the phone in case it was someone who had an idea of where he went. But since he’s skipped out on you, too, I’m guessing you don’t have any more information than me.”
“What do I do?”
I can’t think. I’m numb.
“Can’t tell you that.” He’s curt and matter of fact like he hasn’t just rocked my world. “All I can say is good luck. Hope you had a contingency plan in place.”
The phone goes dead in my hand.
