Her gaze caught Melody's and she pulled her attention back to the paint. "The one on the left, the more buttery one. It has a warmer feel."
Melody crossed to the wall and touched the paint. "I was leaning toward this one too." She was still facing the wall when she next spoke. "I'm sorry for what I thought about you and Jason." She turned quickly, pinned Callie with her gaze. "For doubting you and thinking you were trying to hang on to him."
Honey, you're welcome to him, would have been the wrong answer. "I guess the late-night phone calls could have looked a little odd."
"They weren't that late, and it's not like you hung up or anything when I answered. I just got insecure."
Callie shrugged. "You didn't need to. Jason really loves you."
Melody turned and looked out the window. "I do know that. I was tired and hormonal and feeling a bit vulnerable about the pregnancy and everything."
"For what it's worth, Jason's a good man. And he loves you in a way he never cared for me." And lately Callie had come to realize that she, too, was capable of much stronger feelings than the unthreatening comfort of those she'd had for Jason. Just how much stronger she didn't want to analyze.
"Having him seemed too good to be true." Melody ran her fingers along the windowsill. "And I thought that, if it seemed that good, then I was probably missing something."
"Life kicked you in the teeth a few times?"
Melody laughed. "Once or twice. My own fault, usually. That's why I tend to be overcautious."
"It's not your fault if someone treats you badly."
The smile vanished from Melody's lips. "I guess not. But sometimes you also have to take responsibility for the situation you find yourself in. And if need be, do the right thing to get yourself out of it. I didn't always do that soon enough."
"You don't have to explain."
"But I do need to apologize. Especially if we're going to be seeing a lot more of you."
"I'll be gone in a few days."
"But you and Nick?"
"Nick and I?" Callie asked, unsure what Melody suspected.
"He's never brought a girlfriend here before. I thought it must be serious."
"I'm only here for the festival, because of Marc. He hasn't told you there's anything between us?"
"No. But he never tells anyone anything. We all figure it out by watching. I was wondering already, and then this morning, when he took you on the tour of the winery and vineyard himself, instead of letting Michael do it."
The supposedly quick tour that had stretched to three hours without either of them realizing the passing of the time, because Callie had had so many questions and they had been talking and laughing. She had forgotten everything but the pleasure of being with him.
"And he seems to care about you," Melody added. "He watches you with a different kind of look in his eyes."
Callie shook her head. "The only reason I'm here is because of the festival." And the child she was carrying, who would be a part of this family. Nick had said that much. So, although the demarcation lines were blurred, they were still there.
"You watch him too."
She'd tried to disguise the fascination he held for her, tried to stop the fanciful daydreams that sometimes caught her unawares. Obviously, she'd have to try harder. She shrugged. "He's not hard to look at. None of the Brunicadi men are."
"No. But Michael's even better-looking, and you don't watch him."
If she argued that particular assertion, it would work against her, so Callie said nothing. But while Michael might be technically more perfect, he didn't have the intensity that was so intriguing in Nick, didn't have the depths in his eyes.
"All the same. It's not what you're thinking."
"Oh. Sorry." Melody headed for the door. "I guess it's for the best. Nick's relationships never last long. He always ends them before they get serious."
Callie stifled a yawn as she held up a skirt and top. She met her gaze in the mirror and sternly repeated Melody's words: "His relationships never last long." She'd do well to heed that warning, a repetition of what she already knew, but was in danger of dismissing.
Keep her mind on the job, that was all she had to do, not on thoughts of Nick, on his rare smile, on the hidden depths in his eyes.
She could want far more than she should from the Nick she'd come to know. Far more than he would be prepared to give.
The festival was the day after tomorrow. And the day after that she would be leaving. She only had to shore up her battered defenses for that long.
She was a professional. She could do it.
She surveyed her reflection. The skirt and blouse would be good for tomorrow, but-she lifted her hand to her scalp-she really needed to wash her hair. Soon, she thought as she laid the clothes on her bed. She'd wash her hair soon. She'd managed it one-handed a couple of times. It was awkward and tiring, but not impossible.
In the living room she sat on the couch and opened her laptop. But instead of rechecking the schedule for tomorrow as she'd intended, she called up one of the Internet sites she'd found on pregnancy, looked at the image of a fetus cocooned in a womb and tried to concentrate on the information swimming in front of her. Leaning back, she closed her eyes.
"Callie." The softly spoken word, the hand on her shoulder, startled her.
She spun to see Nick beside her on the couch. "Where did you come from?"
His eyes were narrowed with concern. "I knocked."
"I must have dozed off."
"You think?" His face softened, humor lit his eyes.
"It's been a long day."
The amusement vanished. "That's why I wanted to check on you. You looked a little tired at dinner and my family doesn't exactly let a person get a word in edgewise. From my office, I can see some of the comings and goings at the winery. You didn't stop all day. And then Melody dragged you up to the nursery. You need to take it easier. Learn to say no."
"Nick, I'm fine." He'd been watching her? Even as she thought about him and wondered where he was and what he was doing?
"So fine that you're falling asleep while you're still trying to work." He gestured to her laptop on the coffee table, the screen saver meandering across the screen. "Go to bed, Callie," he said gently.
"I will. As soon as I wash my hair." She speared her fingers through her curls. "And actually," she admitted, "I wasn't working. I meant to, but … " She leaned forward to touch the mouse pad and the screen came to life in front of them. The picture of the baby was still there.
Nick was quiet for a moment. "I've been looking at these sites, as well. There's so much to learn."
"I know." She kept her gaze trained on the screen, focused her thoughts on the image there. And not on the man sitting a whisper away from her. "Sometimes I can hardly believe it's all real. That it's happening to me. Maybe once I feel her kicking. But they say-" she scrolled down a couple of pages "-that that won't happen till around sixteen weeks."
In wordless agreement, they looked through the sites each of them had found, exclaiming, and a little awestruck at what was happening. Callie only wished she wasn't equally captivated by Nick's hands on the keyboard, the dexterous fingers, the tanned forearms exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt. And if only she was as good as Nick at ignoring their inadvertent touches-a brush of shoulder or knee. The touches that sent heat coiling through her.
If they didn't have a guaranteed future together that needed to be negotiated, she could want so much from this man. For now, she told herself. Only for now.
As he navigated the sites she stole glances at his profile, the faint shadow of beard on his jaw, the seriousness of his expression. She liked, a little too much, that he'd been doing his own research.
He turned, caught her watching him. She looked quickly back at the screen.
"What's it like? For you." His voice was quiet, earnest.
She met the gaze that was now intent on her. It was several seconds before she could gather her thoughts to answer. "It's like … magic. I can't believe it's real. And yet it is." She placed her hand over her stomach. "And I guess it's kind of scary too. There's so much I don't know."