She lifted a shoulder and turned her head away. “I don’t care for the caveman treatment.”
“And I don’t care for being shut out.”
“Shut out?” She shoved at his shoulders, but instead of moving, he caught her hands in his. “You can’t be shut out when you’re not in,” she said.
“Oh, I’m in,” he said, shifting closer so that he still wasn’t touching her, wasn’t getting her wet, but there was scarcely a breath separating them either. “I’m in and that’s the problem, isn’t it? You’re not happy about that.”
She didn’t have a response. At least not one she was willing to share.
“You said we were friends with benefits,” he reminded her.
“You’re getting my couch wet. And I said we were friends with benefits without the friends part.”
“You’re wrong,” he said. “We’ve become friends in spite of ourselves.”
“We…” She frowned as she gave that some thought.
“You saved me a seat at the bakery,” he said. “That was a friendly thing to do.”
“I was saving the seat for you so that I wouldn’t have to be friendly to anyone else,” she said.
“And I brought you coffee here so you wouldn’t have to go back after you had your meltdown over Dickhead,” he said. “Also a friendly gesture.”
“Hey,” she said. “I didn’t have a meltdown.”
He went brows up.
“Okay, it was a little bit of a meltdown.” She covered her face.
He pulled her hands from her face. “You’re there for Troy,” he said. “Like last night. And more than anything, I love that.”
“That’s not for you,” she said stiffly, still pissy. “That’s for me. And him.”
“It means a lot to him,” he said. “And me.”
Her gaze flew up to his and held, and then softened. “I’d do just about anything for him.”
Her eyes said she’d do anything for Tanner as well.
“He reminds me of you,” she murmured.
Grateful to see her warming up to him, he smiled. “Answer this,” he said quietly. “Why are you really here?”
“Because I live here. And the only reason you’re here is because you woke me up and made me let you in.”
“Smartass,” he said. “In Lucky Harbor.”
“You know why. For my grandma. I came to make sure she wasn’t losing it. She means a lot to me.”
“I get that,” he said. “But at least admit that it’s not all about her. Because we both know Lucille’s not losing it. She’s saner than the rest of us. She is, however, bored and nosy as hell. Separate issues. So other than the guise of making sure she’s okay, why are you here?”
“The guise of making sure my grandma’s okay?” she repeated. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You tell me,” he said.
She stared at him. “You think I’m here for something else. Maybe to figure my shit out. But I’ve got my shit figured out.”
“Then why haven’t you been in a real relationship in the years since you were engaged?” he asked.
“Besides the fact that my job’s made me more than a little cynical? Hello, ditched at the altar,” she reminded him.
“So?”
She snorted. “Spoken by a man who’s never been left at the altar.”
“I was left by my wife,” he said dryly. “I think that counts.”
“But Elisa didn’t publicly embarrass you. I was ditched at the altar. Which makes me look pretty stupid. It means I can’t discern the difference between a bad-idea crush and being in love.”
He stared into her eyes. She actually believed that, as well as that she wasn’t meant for love. Which was bullshit. He’d never met anyone more meant for love—to both receive it and give it. “Callie, everyone’s allowed mistakes in the love game.”
She turned away. “Yeah, but I didn’t learn from mine.”
His hands settled on her shoulders and slid down to hold her hands. “What was that?”
“Nothing.”
He turned her to face him. “You said you didn’t learn from yours,” he said.
She blew out an exasperated sigh. “If you heard me, then why did you want me to repeat it?”
“Explain,” he said, not giving an inch.
“I fall in crush,” she said. “Not love. And then I try to make the crush something it’s not.”
“Eric not loving you back the way you deserved, that’s on him,” he said. “Not you.”