“Honey, that’s the very best kind of story.” Becca squeezed Callie’s hand. “And don’t worry. Sam mentioned a few days ago that Tanner’s been wearing the same silly grin you’re wearing. So there’s got to be a bunch of good stuff to tell.”
“Sam said what?”
Becca’s grin widened. “I believe his exact words yesterday were ‘Tanner’s good for shit today. He’s so relaxed I had to check him for a pulse.’”
Callie bit her inner cheek.
“Sam asked him if he’d just gotten a massage or something,” Becca said, “and Tanner apparently said ‘or something.’ So then Sam told me he wants a massage.”
No sense in denying it. She’d covered the vents but she couldn’t cover the truth; it was probably all over her face. “It’s a temporary sort of thing. Very temporary.”
“I don’t believe that,” Becca said. “You guys can’t keep your eyes off each other, and the chemistry…it’s like watching fireworks whenever you’re together. I really thought this could turn into something more.”
“I don’t want more.”
Becca didn’t look convinced, so Callie took her hand. “It’s true. I know you’re new in love and think it’s for everyone, but it’s not. I’ve been there, I know.”
“Then he wasn’t the right one,” Becca said.
“Definitely he wasn’t,” Callie agreed.
“But how will you know if Tanner’s the right one if you don’t give him a shot? What if he’s the One, Callie?”
She brushed that off, but as she went about her day, the question stuck with her.
What if Tanner was the One?
Did she even believe in the One?
Once upon a time she had, but she’d changed. Hadn’t she? The question stuck with her as she stopped by the B&B to book the place for Becca’s wedding weekend. She met Maddie, the innkeeper, who took her reservations, and then Maddie introduced her sister Chloe, who ran the day spa.
“Heard you’re seeing Tanner Riggs,” Chloe said.
Callie blinked. “Is there a sign written on my forehead?”
Chloe laughed. “No. It’s your grandma. She’s on a mission to see you matched. She considers herself somewhat of a master on the subject.”
“She’s a master at the crazy,” Callie muttered.
Chloe laughed. “That too.” Her smile softened as someone came into the room. Callie turned and found Sheriff Thompson standing there.
He wasn’t dressed like a cop at the moment. Jeans, a University of Washington sweatshirt, and battered running shoes, and he wore them with the same authority that he’d worn his uniform. The gun at his hip might have helped there. He strode directly to Chloe, pulled her in, and laid a kiss on her that had the temperature in the room skyrocketing.
Callie studied the ceiling and then her toes, wondering if ridiculous displays of romance were in the water or something. Good Lord. Was everyone in this town starry-eyed?
A year later Sawyer pulled back, playfully tugged on a strand of Chloe’s hair, and smiled into her face. “Later.”
Then he winked at Callie and left.
“Sorry,” Chloe said, sounding dreamy. “Where were we?”
When Callie left the B&B, she drove to her grandma’s to relieve Troy of babysitting duty.
She found him playing poker with her grandma and Mr. Wykowski.
“Pay up,” Troy said to Lucille, holding out his hand.
Lucille turned to Callie. “You going to let him cheat an old lady out of her social security?”
“You’re the one who cheated,” Mr. Wykowski said to her mildly.
“How much money are we talking?” Callie asked.
“Not money.” Mr. Wykowski went to the counter and brought back a family-size bag of potato chips. “I believe you won these fair and square,” he said, and presented the whole thing to Troy.
Lucille sighed. “I hope they go straight to your hips,” she said to the kid.
Troy just grinned and shoved one in his mouth. “Mmmm.”
“She’s still crazy,” Troy said when he and Callie were in the car, same as he always did. But he no longer looked like he meant it, and since she’d just watched him and her grandma do some complicated handshake in good-bye, she didn’t take offense. She drove him home and, just before he got out of the car, turned to him. “Troy—”
“I told him. About what happened at school.” He touched his bruised jaw. “I wanted you to know that.”
“Good,” she said relieved. “And the play?”
“I’m working up to that.”