Page 47 of Raise The Bar
Is it just me, or do her brown eyes light up at the suggestion?
Chapter 26
Maggie
“Check!” I sing to myself after completing another task on my to-do list. My to-do list for this week is a mile long, but I have been absolutely slaying it, if I do say so myself.
Most of the items on the list are wedding related. The wedding is nine days from today! June has one final wedding to photograph this weekend before taking the rest of the summer off, so I’ve been helping her as much as I can.
Confirm song selections with musicians? Done.
Pick up the marriage license? Done.
Personally annoy any RSVP stragglers? Done and done!
On top of all the wedding tasks, I’ve been run off my feet at work and at home. My days have been booked solid with clients and my evenings have been dedicated to making soap. So much soap! I’ve made two full batches every evening this week. There is a craft fair downtown next month that I’m on a waitlist for and I want to have a good supply just in case I secure a booth.
Increasing my production has meant enlisting help. Betty and Josh have both been at my beck and call, and Callum even came by two nights ago to help. Yes, I made him wear an apron and safety goggles. Yes, he looked sexy in them. Yes, I definitely snapped a picture on my phone when he wasn’t looking. Have I looked at said photo several times a day this past week? Yes.
Any weirdness between us has seemingly disappeared, thankfully. We’re back to texting several times a day, and he’s been cheering me on through my marathon of tasks for the week. It feels good to have him in my corner. His belief in me makes me feel like I can make all of this happen.
As busy as I’ve been, I’ve still found a lot of time to think about him. The look in his eyes when we talked about Mark. The way he’s been there for me this week with encouragement and praise. I know nothing has changed between us, but things feel different. Deeper. My head is still warning me to keep my distance, but my heart, and every other part of me, wants to lean in.
Even my subconscious can’t get enough of him. There have been dreams. Several dreams. One morning I woke up mid-dream so close to climaxing that it didn’t take much to finish the job.
When he invited me over to talk about graphics for the business, I didn’t overthink it. My heart just knew.
I arrive a few minutes early and am waved up by the doorman. Callum must have told him to expect me. Standing in the elevator, I wonder if this is a common occurrence. Does he have women at his place often? Is there a standard understanding between him and his doorman? I know it’s none of my business, but the thought still stings like a fresh cut. I don’t want to think about him with other women.
I run my hands over my cotton dress one last time before knocking on Callum’s door. He answers the door in jeans and a faded Boston U t-shirt that looks very well loved.
He looks me up and down with an exaggerated frown. “No nurse getup tonight?”
“I’m off duty.” I give him a playful shove with my shoulder as I walk in. My, that is a firm chest. Entering the living room I see his laptop set up on the couch. I try once again to reconcile the stale surroundings with the man who lives here. Callum radiates warmth. Everything here feels frigid and it has nothing to do with the temperature.
“Well, that means you can have a drink.” He shoots me a sexy smirk before disappearing into the kitchen. Moments later, he returns with two glasses of red wine. As I’m making myself as comfortable as possible on his stylish couch, I spot a small black carry-on suitcase in the corner.
“When is your flight again?”
“Six forty-five a.m.” he groans, running a hand over his face.
“Brutal. Make sure you go to bed early so you can get your beauty sleep.”
“Why? You don’t think I’m pretty enough already?” He grins that boyish smile, his dimples visible through his short beard.
If you were any prettier, I wouldn’t be able to breathe.
Callum sits down next to me on the couch. He grabs his laptop, extends his long legs onto the coffee table, and places the computer on his lap. I scoot closer to him, telling myself it’s so I can see the screen better, but who am I kidding? I want to be near him.
We sip our wine while he shows me several mockup logos. They are various sizes and styles of a common theme, an illustrated sudsy bar of soap in the center of large text that says COMPANY NAME HERE. I am blown away by the effort he has put into this, they look like professionally designed logos. The soap even looks like the bar I showed him in Betty’s room. I can’t believe he went to the trouble to make these for me. Emotion threatens to take over and I swallow hard to keep myself from losing what very little cool I have.
“Since when are you a graphic designer?” I ask, hoping it comes across as playful.
“I dabble,” he says, modestly shrugging his muscular shoulders.
I like this side of him. He’s usually fun and playful when we are together, but I’m enjoying this “business Callum”. Motivation and focus look good on him. Everything looks good on him.
I lean in closer to get a better look at one of the images on the screen and I remember just how good he smells. How does he do that? He smells so fresh and manly at the same time. If I could figure out how to extract his exact scent and use it in my soaps, I’m certain it would fly off the shelves.
