Page 18 of Spooking the Mountain Man
BythetimeHalloweenweekend arrives, Callum and I have settled into a routine that feels natural and right in a way that still surprises me. He makes breakfast every morning while I shower, then walks me to work at the bookstore where Mrs. Peters somehow convinced me to take a part-time job. He picks me up for lunch, makes sure I eat dinner, and tucks me into bed every night with kisses that leave me breathless and wanting more.
We haven't gone beyond what happened that first night during the storm, though not for lack of wanting on my part. Every time I try to push things further – sliding my hands under his shirt, kissing my way down his throat – Callum stops me with gentle but firm hands and that commanding voice that makes my knees weak.
"Patience, sweetheart," he'll say, capturing my wandering hands in his. "Good girls wait for what they want."
It's maddening and thrilling at the same time. The sexual tension between us is thick enough to cut with a knife, but there's something incredibly hot about being made to wait, about trusting Callum to know when I'm ready for more.
Tyler's been surprisingly cool about the whole situation, though he did institute a "no making out where I can see you" rule that Callum and I follow religiously. It helps that Tyler's been busy with work, leaving early and coming home late, giving Callum and me space to figure out our new dynamic.
Now I'm standing in the driveway, face to face with Derek, and all I can think is how different he looks from Callum.
Derek looks exactly the same as he did six months ago – tall, well-dressed in an expensive button-down and designer jeans, with that practiced smile that used to make me feel special but now just makes my skin crawl. His hair is perfectly styled, his shoes probably cost more than most people make in a week, and he carries himself with the kind of polished confidence that comes from never having to do real work with his hands.
When he sees me approaching, his face lights up like he's genuinely happy to see me.
"Kelly! There you are. I was starting to think you weren't home."
I stop several feet away from him, my heart pounding. "What are you doing here, Derek?"
"I came to talk to you. To apologize." He takes a step toward me, and I instinctively take a step back. "I know I messed up, baby. I know I hurt you. But I've been thinking, and I realize now that I was just scared of how much I love you."
The familiar manipulation makes my stomach turn. This is exactly how Derek operates – twist everything around so that his bad behavior becomes proof of his feelings, make me feel guilty for being hurt by his actions.
"I told you we were done," I say, proud that my voice comes out steady. "I meant it."
"You don't mean that. You were upset, and you had every right to be. But we can work through this, Kelly. We're good together. You know we are."
Before I can respond, the front door opens and Callum appears. The contrast between the two men is immediately striking – where Derek is all polished sophistication and expensive clothes, Callum is raw masculinity in work-worn jeans and a flannel shirt that's seen actual labor. His hands are callused, his boots are scuffed, and there's sawdust in his dark hair from whatever job he finished today. He's everything Derek isn't – real, solid, unpolished in the best possible way.
"Problem?" Callum asks, his voice deceptively calm as he moves to stand beside me.
Derek's practiced smile falters slightly when he sees Callum. His gaze takes in the work clothes, the broad shoulders, the way Callum moves with the easy confidence of a man who's never had to prove himself with expensive accessories. "I don't think we've met. I'm Derek, Kelly's boyfriend."
"Ex-boyfriend," I correct quickly.
"Callum MacReady," Callum says, not offering his hand. "And she said ex-boyfriend."
"Right, well, that's what I'm here to fix," Derek says with a laugh that sounds forced. "Kelly and I just had a little disagreement. Nothing that can't be worked out between adults."
"She told you it was over," Callum says flatly. "Sounds pretty worked out to me."
Derek's mask slips a little more, and I can see the flash of anger in his eyes that I know so well. His manicured hands clench slightly – hands that have never known calluses or honest work, unlike Callum's scarred knuckles and strong fingers. "I'msorry, but this is between Kelly and me. I don't know who you are or what your relationship is to her, but—"
"I'm the guy who's going to ask you to leave," Callum interrupts. "Politely. Once."
The threat in his voice is unmistakable, and Derek finally seems to realize that he's not dealing with some random neighbor. He looks between Callum and me, and I can see the moment he puts the pieces together.
"Really, Kelly? You're sleeping with some local yokel now?" Derek's voice turns condescending, the tone he always used when he wanted to make me feel stupid. "I know you're upset with me, but this is just embarrassing. You're better than this."
"No," I say, finding my voice. "I'm better than you."
Derek's face hardens. "Don't be childish. You need me, Kelly. You've always needed me. Without me, you'll just make the same naive mistakes you always do. You'll end up broke and alone and wishing you'd listened to me."
The familiar words hit their mark, and I feel myself shrinking inward the way I always did when Derek started tearing me down. But then Callum's hand settles on the small of my back, warm and steady and reassuring.
"Time to go," Callum says to Derek, and his voice has gone dangerously quiet.
"You don't understand," Derek says, desperation creeping into his voice. "Kelly's confused right now. She's not thinking clearly. She needs someone who can take care of her properly, someone who understands her."
