Page 33 of Bad For Me (Rock Canyon, Idaho 5)

Still, at least when her mom was alive, she’d had someone.

As she passed by the food and game booths, she noticed a large tree with a swing close to Everett’s house. She was a little surprised she hadn’t seen him yet, actually. Maybe he was in the haunted maze, dressed up as a goblin or ghoul and jumping out at people. She’d seen Justin dressed as a scarecrow and Val as a witch when Caroline and she had first pulled in.

Or maybe he’s inside his house, avoiding the crowds—and you.

She headed toward the swing, surprised there wasn’t a gaggle of children surrounding it. Of course, it was away from all the other activities, shrouded in darkness. If the moon and Everett’s porch light hadn’t hit it just right, she might not have seen it.

Once there, Callie sat down gingerly, testing the swing’s weight-bearing capabilities. When she was comfortable that it would hold her, she pushed off. She’d grown up with an old plank swing her grandfather had built her in their backyard and had spent most of her childhood out there, thinking, or crying, or laughing—depending on the day . . . and on whether or not her mother had fallen off the wagon.

It was still crazy to her that after all the years she’d spent taking care of her mother—enduring her insults, drunken anger, and later, her whispered apologies—that Callie would still end up going down the same path. Coping with her pain by getting drunk, often to the point of blacking out and not remembering the night before. Anything to mask her fear and self-loathing.

After two years of hangovers and nearly blowing her career, Callie had gone to Folsom with some friends, renting a hotel room so they wouldn’t have to drive. Two Adios Motherfuckers later, she was toast. Usually, she could drink more, but upon finishing the second drink, she’d immediately started feeling woozy. Her friends had ditched her for a couple of guys they’d met, and after she’d finished puking in the bar bathroom, she’d stumbled back to the hotel. The last thing she remembered was getting into the elevator before everything went black.

When Callie woke up, her head had been underwater, and she’d come up gasping. Still out of it, it had taken her a minute to realize she was in her hotel room and that somehow she had ended up in the bathtub. The water was still running, and she was wearing nothing but a black camisole.

For days after, Callie had freaked out, wondering what had happened and how she’d ended up in the tub. But the real nightmare was that she could have died. Again. She could have drowned or slipped and cracked her head open. A million scenarios had played through her mind until she’d finally said, “That’s it. I’m done.”

The next day, she’d attended her first AA meeting and began turning her life around.

Kicking her heels back, Callie soared higher on the swing, breathing in the crisp, cool air as it stung her cheeks. She smiled with pure joy, flying higher and higher. Closing her eyes, she held on to the ropes and propelled herself toward the sky.

“I was right,” a deep voice said from below, breaking through her bliss.

Her eyes flew open, and she dragged her feet against the ground, slowing down. Her gaze swung through the dim night to find Everett standing nearby.

“Yo

u are insanely beautiful when you smile.”

Chapter Eight

EVERETT’S OBSERVATION WAS almost bitter. He’d been asking for a sign and here she was, smiling like a golden angel and just as innocent as she’d swung higher and higher.

“What are you doing here?”

The question came out harsher than he’d meant it, but he wanted her so bad that his hands were shaking. He’d had been sitting in his living room with the window open, the cool air and the sound of distant laughter blowing in as he’d read his worn copy of The Power of One. No romance tonight, not with the way he’d been feeling; he’d just wanted something familiar, comforting. Something he knew the ending to and wouldn’t be surprised or disappointed by. Then he’d heard it—the familiar creak of the old tree swing. He’d put his book down and peeked through the blinds, expecting to find a couple of kids pushing each other.

Instead he’d seen a woman in the moonlight, pumping her legs until she was swinging high enough for her face to come out of the shadows.

Callie.

Heart hammering with excitement, Everett hadn’t even thought about why he shouldn’t get up or why he shouldn’t walk out of his house. Though really, he should’ve just let her be and left things as they were.

As he’d drawn closer, he’d noticed her eyes were closed. Before he could call out to her, she’d smiled to herself and even released a husky, raw laugh.

A laugh that had gone from his heart to his groin in one straight shot.

Callie was bundled up in jeans and a puffy jacket, but her blonde curls had flown behind her in a mix of gold and crystal, flashing like streaks of lightning in the moonlight. His hands had itched to get tangled up in that mass of curls as he imagined pulling her against him, kissing those sweet lips until she relaxed, breathing in her sweet scent and holding her. Forgetting all about why she was bad for him and why things could never work between them.

But before he could think better of it, he’d opened his mouth and told her she was beautiful.

Only instead of jumping into his arms at his compliment, she was now staring at him like he was a Peeping Tom.

Callie hopped off the swing like it was on fire. “Sorry. I just needed a minute alone.”

“You do that a lot,” he said, taking a step toward her.

“What?”

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