by Nina Lindsey
The milkshake cup burst in his grip, spilling cold, icy slush over his hand.
Jake broke away from Callie so fast his head banged against the open car door. With a grunt, he clapped his palm against the sore spot.
“Oh! Are you all right?” Callie fumbled to open her purse and take out a few tissues. Grabbing his arm, she swiped at the sticky mess.
“Fine.” He rubbed his head with a scowl and tossed the crushed cup into a nearby trashcan. “Did it get on you?”
“No, it’s okay.” She threw the tissues away and eyed his shirt. Her skin was still flushed with heat, her lips reddened from their kiss.
Jake frowned. “For the record, I’m usually in total control of…explosions.”
Her eyes widened for an instant before a giggle burst out of her. She pressed a hand to her chest and laughed, her shoulders shaking. Amusement rose in Jake.
“I believe you.” She pulled in a gasp, her face bright with laughter. “And I really did have a good time tonight, but I should get home now.”
Jake wiped his sticky hand on his shirt as Callie got into the driver’s seat and shut the door. After starting the engine, she rolled down the window and gave him a grin that lit sparks inside him.
“Also for the record,” Callie called, her eyes twinkling. “I’m not the only one who’s rigid.”
With a wink, she backed out of the parking space and sped off down the street.
Not until Jake was behind the wheel of his own car did he realize he was still smiling.
Chapter 8
A knock on Callie’s open office door startled her out of her reverie. “Dr. Prescott?”
Dropping her salad fork, Callie swiveled around to find her student Rebecca standing beside her.
“I just wanted to drop my paper off.” Rebecca extended a red folder, glancing past Callie to her computer screen.
Callie fumbled to hit the sleep mode button, blacking out the Fatal Glory movie playing onscreen. Clearing her throat, she took the folder with a sharp nod.
“Thank you. Anything else?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Have a good weekend.” Callie placed the folder on the stack of student papers.
“You too,” the girl said as she left.
Callie groaned aloud and pressed a hand to her forehead. All she needed was for her students to think she sat in her office gawking at Blaze Ripley movies. Even though that was what she’d been doing for the past hour. After a night of reliving her date…well, her “hang out” with Jake and the kiss that had fired her up so fast it was like he’d set a lit match to dry tinder, he was imprinted in her mind with indelible ink.
That kiss. Heat spread down her spine. She touched her lips, convinced they were still tingling from the pressure of his mouth. She’d last been kissed a few weeks…okay, a few months…well, maybe it was a full year ago when she’d gone out with a Greco-Roman history professor from San Francisco State. They’d dated for all of three weeks before drifting apart out of sheer boredom.
Callie used to think it would be perfect to be with a man who had all the same interests that she did, which was part of the reason she’d stayed with Brian for three years in grad school.
Then one day they’d been sitting at the breakfast table, arguing over whether Caesar said the Latin phrase “Alea iacta est” or the Greek-derived “Alea jacta esto” after crossing the Rubicon, and Callie tried to imagine having similar debates all the time for the rest of her life instead of…well, kissing or touching or smiling at each other over their coffee cups.
Then she realized she and Brian hadn’t had sex in over two weeks, and the act didn’t exactly send her shooting into the stratosphere anyway…so was he really what she wanted in a partner?
A month later, she’d moved out of their apartment, and he’d written a well-received paper supporting the hypothesis that Caesar said “The die is cast” rather than “Let the die be cast,” and they both agreed they were better off as friends.
Nice and tidy. Exactly the way she preferred things.
Callie pressed the space bar on her keyboard, bringing up a paused image of Jake as Blaze Ripley. Halfway through the first Fatal Glory movie, she still didn’t know what the story was actually about—except that Blaze was after some guys who’d done something bad—but she had to admit the special effects and all the high-speed chase scenes were well-done.
Jake stole the show, though. With his piercing blue eyes and chiseled male intensity, he barked orders, gritted his teeth, and made dryly humorous comments through a twist of his beautiful mouth. He was a sight to behold with his gorgeous, tousled dark hair and his body clad in worn, sweat-drenched T-shirts that showed off his bulging muscles.
But there was more to him than just masculine beauty. He was a captivating onscreen presence, able to articulate an emotion through subtle shifts in his expression and leaving no doubt as to the truth of his quest. He made everything, even the outlandish action scenes, grippingly believable. In addition to being hot, Jake Ryan was a damned good actor.
Callie closed the movie. She’d watch the rest of it at home tonight. She’d admired Jake from afar in high school, but she hadn’t known much about him. She certainly hadn’t known about his love for movies, and she’d been touched by the almost reverent way he’d spoken about films and the Vitaphone as if they’d been one of the best parts of his youth.
Her phone buzzed, pulling her out of her thoughts. She couldn’t sit here mooning over studly Jake Ryan. She had work to do, and he was just in town for a few weeks before going back to his glamorous Hollywood life, which more than likely involved plenty of beautiful young women. She’d be an idiot to think their kiss would amount to anything more…and she’d never been idiotic in her life.
Well, except for the “button fly” remark. And Jake’s fly did have her curious about what was underneath those buttons. She grew hot just thinking about sliding her hand over the bulge she’d felt pressing against her last night.
Stop it.
Shaking her head to get him out of her thoughts, she opened the Word doc containing her book proposal and picked up the phone. “Calista Prescott.”
“Linda Weber, Cambridge Press, Dr. Prescott.” The caller’s tone was clipped. “Thank you for rescheduling our call so soon.”
“I apologize again for missing it yesterday.”
“I’ve read your revised proposal and have to tell you I don’t love it.”
Callie’s heart plummeted. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“I appreciate your insights into the goddesses’ origin stories, but it’s all very dry and academic. We need something more contemporary and engaging to appeal to the buyers of the new imprint.”
“Like what?”
“That’s what I was hoping you would come up with.” Linda sighed. “At this point, I’m not sure your brand of scholarship suits the tone of the Fire imprint.”
Callie tightened her grip on the phone. If Cambridge rejected her proposal, there were other publishers she could approach—but none of them would get back to her before her tenure review. It wasn’t just about having an accepted proposal either—Fire Imprint was developing a reputation for taking on the most cutting-edge and innovative scholars. She wanted to be one of them.
But apparently she wasn’t even close.
“I’ll rework the proposal again,” she said quickly. “Let me think about it some more.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Give me until the end of the month.” Callie’s heart kicked up in panic. “I’ll have an entirely new proposal for you. If it’s not what you’re looking for, I’ll take it somewhere else.”
“I’ll give it one more look,” Linda finally said. “Then I have to move on.”
“Thank you. I’ll email it to you before the thirtieth.” Before the other woman could change her mind, Callie thanked her again and hung up.
The book proposal blurred in front of her eyes. She drew in a breath and collected h
er composure. She wasn’t out yet. She just had to come up with something “more contemporary and engaging”—whatever that meant.
After glancing at the clock, she gathered up her lecture notes, put them in her satchel, and headed out of the building. She had three lectures and two discussion sections, plus office hours, a meeting about an upcoming conference, and a stack of papers to read and grade. She also had to stop by Sugar Joy, check on her mother and ask about her doctor’s appointment and new vendor invoices, and make sure the plumber had fixed the leaky faucet.
No time to think about Jake. None whatsoever.
Except there he was, lingering in the back of her mind like a super sexy version of a Hogwarts’ house ghost. One who wouldn’t leave her alone.
Callie made it through the rest of the day on automatic pilot—at least no one could fault her for not knowing her material inside-out—then closed up her office and drove to Sugar Joy. Her sister Rory was refilling cookie baskets behind the counter, her long black ponytail swinging behind her and a smudge of powdered sugar on her cheek.
“Hey, Rory.” Callie picked up a napkin and handed it to her sister, suppressing the urge to remark that Rory’s psychedelic Bob Marley T-shirt and frayed denim shorts were not exactly appropriate Sugar Joy attire. “Is Mom here?”
“She went over to Metalworks, but she should be back soon.” Rory wiped her cheek and tossed the napkin into the recycling bin.
“What did she need at the hardware store?”
Rory shrugged. “Hardware.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.” Rory put a full basket back in the display case and bit into a chocolate-chip cookie. “I don’t keep tabs on Mom’s every move and purchase. That’s your job.”
Callie sighed. “Why are you and Aria both on my case about Mom all of a sudden? And did you pay for that cookie?”
“Because she’s bitching to us more than usual about you,” Rory replied. “And no.”
With a frown, Callie dug into her satchel for her wallet and tossed three dollars in the cash register. “Mom’s bitching about me?”
Rory groaned around a mouthful of cookie. “Not bitching, but she’s…well, you kind of get in her space and try to control stuff. Maybe it’s finally getting to her a little. She doesn’t want to tell you directly because she’s worried about you.”
“Why?”
“With all your work and the tenure thing.” Rory waved a hand at Callie’s suit and satchel. “She doesn’t want to upset you.”
“You and Aria clearly don’t have the same concern.” With a little huff, Callie patted a loose strand of hair back into her chignon and eyed her sister’s shirt. “By the way, you’re working at Sugar Joy, not smoking pot at Woodstock.”
“Bob Marley didn’t perform at Woodstock.” Rory tweaked Callie’s ear. “Look, Cal, Mom’s birthday is coming up next month. Aria and I were thinking of treating her to a trip to New York over her birthday weekend.”
“I have high-tea reservations at the Ritz-Carlton that Saturday. We always go to high-tea for her birthday.”
“I know, but maybe it’s time Mom did something different.” Rory rearranged the pen holder next to the register, even though the pens didn’t need rearranging. “It’s been a rough few months, and she hasn’t been anywhere since well before her surgery. She and Dad honeymooned in New York. We thought she might enjoy a trip back, especially on her birthday.”
“By herself?”
“Her college friend Barbara lives in New Jersey, and they haven’t seen each other in ages. They could go out on the town, have some fun. Mom hasn’t taken a trip out of the Bay Area since…”
Her voice trailed off. Since before Dad died.
Callie brushed crumbs off the counter and tossed them in the trash. She knew intellectually that her mother could take care of herself, and that she’d likely enjoy a trip to New York, but unreasonable fear burned low in her gut.
“We can do the high-tea thing when she gets back.” Rory patted Callie’s shoulder and turned to take a white box from beneath the counter. “Or we can find a place for her and Barb to have one in New York. Aria and I are going to plan for all the highlights—Broadway, the museums, the Grand Central Oyster Bar, the Met. Give them a girls’ weekend to remember. Are you okay with that?”
“Sure.” Callie sounded unconvinced, even to herself.
“I’ll write up a tentative itinerary.” Rory licked her finger and picked up cookie crumbs from her T-shirt.
A reluctant smile rose to Callie’s lips. She envied Rory a bit. Her younger sister had always marched to the beat of her own drummer, and she had an inner core of steel that had helped her through ten years of highs and lows in the technology industry.
Rory had quietly excelled in all her STEM classes and was offered a full-time job before she’d graduated from college, but she’d also had to contend with the rampant sexism of the field. In many of the companies she’d worked for over the years, there had been an unspoken expectation that as an attractive female software engineer, she needed to work twice as hard and prove herself over and over. She’d also had to fight countless derogatory remarks and propositions, but she’d never wavered in her commitment to her work.
After their father died, Rory showed up in Bliss Cove one day and said she’d left a job recently and was back to help out. Mired in dealing with their father’s estate, their mother’s grief, and her antagonism with Aria, Callie had never been more grateful for Rory’s steady, level-headed presence.
She’d relied on Rory even more after Aria had gone off to Colorado. And while Callie knew that Rory would move away again—she was far too smart and talented to be working at Sugar Joy and taking contract work—she was in no hurry for her sister to leave.
Even if Rory was messing with their mother’s birthday plans.
“Speaking of trips…” Rory tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, her voice brightening. “We were thinking you could use one yourself. Why don’t you take some time off, head up to Seattle or even San Francisco for a week or two?”
Suspicion lanced through her. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“It’d just be nice for you to get away, give Mom some space. Maybe you need a reminder that there’s still a world out there.”
“When was the last time you looked up from your computer and saw it for yourself, geek girl?” With a gotcha smirk, Callie turned her attention to a tall, broad-shouldered man wearing a Metalworks Hardware T-shirt who approached the counter. “Hi, Joe.”
“Callie. Rory.” Nodding at each of them in turn, he dug into his jeans pocket for his wallet. “I’ll have the usual. Plus a croissant.”
Rory and Callie exchanged glances. When had Joe ever ordered anything except a bran muffin and a black coffee?
“You mean, your usual whole-wheat bran muffin plus a croissant?” Rory shook her head, as if she hadn’t heard that right.
“Yeah.” Joe squinted at the bakery display. “Why don’t you give me one of those cherry danishes too?”
“Wow.” Rory bent to take the pastries from the baskets as Callie rang up the order. “You’re really mixing it up today, Joe.”
“It’s not all for me.” Methodically, he counted out the exact change.
Rory nudged Callie’s leg under the counter. Callie shot her sister a “leave it alone” glare, even though she, too, was dying to know if Joe was purchasing the extra pastries for Destiny. The Moonbeams shop owner considered herself in charge of divining everyone else’s love lives, but she didn’t seem to have gotten an accurate reading on her own. Her longstanding crush on Joe had yet to come to fruition. Maybe Sugar Joy pastries would light a spark.
“Have a good day, Joe.” Callie put the money in the register and poured the coffee.
“Enjoy the croissant and danish,” Rory added. “Or, you know, tell someone else to enjoy them. Or enjoy them together. Or—”
Callie pinched her sister’s arm to shut her up. Joe gave them a no
d of thanks and headed out.
“Did Mom say anything about the plumber?” Callie turned her attention to her phone.
Rory blew her breath upward, stirring her dark bangs. “Unless she’s dating him, I neither know nor care.”
“What do you mean, dating him?”
“Oh god, you are such a freak.” Rory rolled her eyes and strode past her to the cold case. “What about the plumber?”
“He was supposed to fix her leaky faucet.” Callie swiped the screen, her heart jumping at the sight of a text from Jake.
Casablanca Wed. night. 7pm. Be there or be square. Or you can be both there and square. Your call.
She typed a reply. What if I’m busy?
You are. With me.
Suppressing a smile, she set the phone on the counter. “Rory, do you know anything about hamsters eating tiny food?”
“You mean the videos?” Rory took a cocoa-dusted cake from the cold case and started boxing it up.
“I guess. What are they?”
“Videos of hamsters eating tiny food.”
“That’s it?” Callie poured herself a cup of decaf coffee. “People watch videos of hamsters eating?”
“Yeah. I’m pretty sure they went viral. But they’re not just eating. They’re eating tiny food, like tacos and stuff. Hamster-sized people food.”
“What’s the point?”
“They’re cute.” After tearing off an order form, Rory taped it to the front of the box.
“But that’s it?” She took a sip of coffee. “It’s just videos of hamsters eating little tacos?”
“And other stuff. Pizza, burgers, sushi.” Rory set the box on a shelf and eyed her with a hint of exasperation. “They’re just cute, funny videos, that’s all. Who told you about the hamsters anyway?”
“Um, a student.”
Callie ducked her head to conceal her blush. She and her sisters had always been like oil and water, but they also loved each other and had always been there for one another. Yet not for anything would Callie tell either Rory or Aria—or their mother, of all people—about hanging out with Jake last night. They could keep a secret, but the more people who knew about Jake, the riskier his position became.