Rhett.
Turning off the RECORD button, she tried to ignore the giddy butterflies fluttering through her stomach. “You’re late.”
“You noticed.”
“Well, you’ve been almost OCD about the time you call for months, so it’s a little hard not to.” Callie bit her lip to keep from smiling.
“Well, as a matter of fact, I overslept this morning. Can I just say I’m flattered? Were you counting down the minutes?”
Callie’s face burned, and even though he couldn’t see her, she rubbed her cheeks with one hand. “Actually, it’s just because you’re the only person who calls in with any taste.”
“Coming from you, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” she said, turning around in her chair so she couldn’t see Dave and her tech, Sam, making kissy faces at her. “Now, what Blake song do you want to hear?”
“Uh oh, did I get you in trouble with the boss?”
“No, I just . . . there are a lot of calls coming in, so I can’t talk for long.”
“I understand,” he said, and there was a pause on the line before he cleared his throat. “Maybe we could talk more later? Off air?”
Callie’s heart pounded. Was he asking for her number?
Real names and numbers made it real. What if he was dangerous? What if she gave him her number and he tracked her down—
“I’m going to take it from your silence that I’ve freaked you out,” he said, breaking through her panicked thoughts. “I’ll let you get back to work.”
He hung up before she could say anything. Without his trademark farewell.
Way to go, you paranoid freak.
Though really, Callie didn’t think she was paranoid; she was cautious. Having your fiancé turn into a complete stranger—a violent stranger—six months before your wedding could do that to a person. Thinking of Tristan was painful, and she tried to push him from her mind. Tried to forget their past together. If she didn’t, the nightmares might start up again—and the urge to drink herself into a stupor along with them.
Just then, Dalton came walking in with Ratchet. The minute he let him off the leash, the large dog lumbered over and laid his head in Callie’s lap, as if sensing her dark thoughts. Stroking his dense fur, she murmured softly to him until he sat and eventually flopped to the ground.
“Callie, you’ve got callers holding,” Dave said over the intercom.
Pressing the button, she took the next call, but her thoughts were still on Rhett. Was she ready to let someone in and trust again?
She really wasn’t sure.
About the Author
An obsessive bookworm, CODI GARY likes to write sexy small-town contemporary romances with humor, grand gestures, and blush-worthy moments. When she’s not writing, she can be found reading her favorite authors, squealing over her must-watch shows, and playing with her children. She lives in Idaho with her family.
Discover great authors, exclusive offers, and more at hc.com.
Also by Codi Gary
Return of the Bad Girl
Bad Girls Don’t Marry Marines
Good Girls Don’t Date Rock Stars
Things Good Girls Don’t Do
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