Page 19 of Boiling Point
Cal tipped his head back. Light skimmed across his hair again, accentuating an errant lock that never stayed put. He looked like every serious thought he’d ever had was a little further away today, just out of reach.
“I’m afraid so,” he said, looking faintly amused. “And reviewing a few research proposals that have been glaring at me all week.” He paused, the hesitation just enough to give away whatever pretense he intended. “But my plan is to finish tonight and free up the day tomorrow.”
I tilted my head. “What’s happening tomorrow?”
He glanced around the diner, then leaned across the table under the guise of reaching for a fry. His voice was low and inviting. “I’d like to claim your day tomorrow, if you’re open to it.”
Surprise fluttered through me, leaving me momentarily without words. He was close enough for me to notice the fine stubble along his jaw, feel his presence humming in the air like static.
“Oh,” I managed, smiling despite myself. “Well, when you put it so sweetly…”
A hint of mischief flickered in his eyes before he settled back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“Are you sure you can handle two days in a row?” I teased, feeling suddenly bold.
“I’m willing to risk it. But…”
“There’s a catch?”
He grinned. “I get to choose the activity.”
My imagination sprinted straight for the gutter before I could stop it. I ducked my head, willing my face not to give me away.But when I risked a glance up, Cal’s eyes shot wide, and he shifted awkwardly in his seat.
“I didn’t mean…” He fumbled, retreating into his beer. “I was referring to…” He covered himself with a guilty cough.
A laugh bubbled up, but I swallowed it down. “No harm done. What’s the plan?” I asked, leaning in, suddenly daring.
He set down his mug with deliberate care, a faint flush creeping up his neck as he reclaimed a measure of composure. “That,” he said, affecting a mysterious air, “is for me to know.”
I raised my eyebrows.
“I’ll pick you up at ten,” he added, dodging my gaze by staring out the window.
“Don’t I get a hint?”
His eyes flicked back to mine, gray and earnest. “Dress warmly.”
“Warmly?”
“Similar to how you’re dressed now.” A beat. “Which is quite becoming, by the way. Though I probably shouldn’t say that.”
The warmth in my chest had nothing to do with embarrassment and everything to do with the way he looked at me. Like we were alone in this crowded room. Like nothing existed but this crazy stolen moment.
Chapter 9
Callum
For the third time in less than a week, I stood at Gabrielle’s door. This time, however, I hadn’t arrived empty-handed.
She opened the door, eyes wide at the sight of the blue gift bag in my hands. Her flaxen hair was tied back in its usual intricate plait, and her emerald eyes sparkled in the morning sunlight. She wore jeans, a high-necked red jumper, and the brown leather bomber jacket that still carried a trace of yesterday’s adventure.
“Hi,” she said at last, her voice bright with a mix of delight and uncertainty.
“Good morning,” I replied, unable to keep the smile from my own voice.
We stood there for a moment, the air between us charged. Curiosity flickered as she looked at the bag, then back at me.
“This is for you,” I said, handing it to her.
