Callan's Proposition

by Barbara Mccauley

  Damn if he hadn’t been tempted to taste those lips of hers again, right there in the bathroom, but after that kiss in the office the other day, he wasn’t taking any chances. If he stepped over any boundaries, he might lose Abby, and he couldn’t, wouldn’t, let that happen. She was much too important to him to throw away on any impulsive…urges.

  He just had to stop thinking of her as a woman, that’s all. He could do that for the sake of his business.

  During working hours he had been careful to keep his distance from her, intentionally staying at the job sites longer than necessary, but he’d had to come back to her place in the evenings. To keep up appearances, of course, since Emerald and Ruby had been over to Abby’s every evening to visit. He didn’t want them to wonder why he was never there, then get suspicious, but because he was afraid he might somehow trip up and expose the “plot,” he’d stayed out of their way as best he could and avoided any in-depth discussions with them.

  And it seemed to him, especially when Emerald and Ruby weren’t around, that Abby had been avoiding him, as well.

  Yet in spite of the fact that she went straight to her bedroom after her aunts left and got up earlier than Stanley the blue jay, whom she fed peanuts to every morning, Callan had still managed to learn a few things about Abigail Thomas.

  She grew her own tomatoes and squash, was an amazing cook and, except for reading, she didn’t need those glasses she wore all day at work. She also liked to go barefoot in the house, though she wore slacks or long skirts and kept her legs covered. It surprised him that she painted her toenails deep red, and more than once in the past week he’d caught himself staring at her feet.

  He glanced down, thought about those pretty red toe-nails and smooth feet underneath those ugly shoes, and God help him, he couldn’t stop himself from wondering what she was wearing under that shapeless tan suit she had on….

  He jerked himself out of his thoughts, forced himself to concentrate on her voice, then wondered why he’d never noticed before how smooth it was, how soft.

  “…a minor architectural adjustment on the façade in the main entrance,” she was saying. “Instead of flat, straight columns, he’s decided that archways and curves will add more interest…”

  Curves definitely add more interest, Callan agreed, and his gaze wandered over Abby. Was she wearing that sexy, green lace bra she had on the other night? And though he hadn’t seen them, he’d bet a week’s draw she had matching panties.

  “If you’d like, I can order several in different colors for you to look at,” Abigail said.

  He blinked, then glanced up sharply. “What?”

  She tilted her head down and looked at him over her glasses. “The new tile Mr. Palmer requested. For the fountain in the courtyard.”

  Dammit, he had to keep his mind on the job, not on Abby’s underwear. “Right. Go ahead and order several. In different colors. Whatever you like.”

  She looked at him curiously. “Whatever I like?”

  “That’s right. You choose.”

  “All right.” She cleared her throat. “I’ll have them delivered to Mr. Palmer before his inspection next week.”

  “That’s a good—” He paused, then frowned. “Inspection?”

  “You’re picking Mr. Palmer and his son, Jack, up from the airport next Tuesday at two in the afternoon, then driving them out to the job site for an inspection. I’ve made six-o’clock dinner reservations for three at Sanderson’s Steak House and booked a suite at the Colonial West Inn.”

  Frowning, she stepped beside him and glanced over his shoulder at his desk appointment calendar. “Didn’t I write it down?”

  Callan frowned. He’d been so distracted the past few days with Abby and her aunts, he’d nearly forgotten about Palmer’s visit. Ray canceled or rescheduled his inspections with the same regularity he changed his architectural plans, and already the project was two months behind schedule. Callan hadn’t met Ray’s son yet, but he could imagine that Jack Palmer was just as big a pain in the butt as his father. And if he looked anything like his father, he was five-four and bald. Callan looked forward to spending an entire afternoon and evening with the two men as much as he would a blister on his foot.

  But Ray Palmer was not only one of the wealthiest developers out of Boston, he was also Sinclair Construction’s biggest client. So if the man wanted to go to dinner, then fine, dinner it was.

  “Here it is.” Abby leaned over him and pointed to his desk calendar. “Two o’clock. Airport. Ray and Jack Palmer. Dinner at six.”

  He caught the scent of her as she leaned over him and brushed against his arm. Something feminine and lightly floral. It seeped into his senses and played havoc there. Made him wonder if she smelled like that all over.

  If she were any other woman, he’d find out. He’d slip off that stiff jacket of hers, then unbutton her prim white blouse and lay her back on his desk and—

  He caught himself before his fantasy went any further. Once again he reminded himself that Abby wasn’t any other woman. She was Abby.

  With a sigh he leaned back in his chair, then glanced at his watch. It was 5:45. “Aren’t we supposed to meet Emerald and Ruby for dinner at the tavern about now?”

  Abby nodded apologetically. “If you’d rather not go, I can tell them you have to work late. They’d understand.”

  “And miss the fabulous Bliss Sisters in concert?” He stood and was already leading her out of his office. “Reese said that yesterday their rendition of “Hello Dolly” made the lunch crowd go wild.”

  Abby closed her eyes on a shudder. “How ’bout you go without me and tell them that I had to work?”

  “Abby.” He took her by her arms and turned her to face him. “Your aunts are terrific. A little impulsive maybe, a little outrageous. But what’s the harm in that?”

  She stared at him for a long time, and there was something in her eyes he couldn’t read. Sadness, maybe? Longing?

  “No harm,” she said softly, then pulled away from him and reached for her purse. “Shall we go?”

  Because she’d loaned her car to her aunts for the week, Callan had been driving Abby to and from work every day. Strange, but he’d enjoyed the few minutes they spent alone on the ride, not talking, just listening to the radio. It felt…comfortable. He couldn’t remember ever feeling that way around any other woman before.

  When they reached the tavern, he parked, then came around and opened the truck door for Abby. Her hand felt small and warm in his, and he resisted the temptation to pull her against him as she slid out of the truck. He stared at her soft, lush mouth, felt a bolt of desire shoot through him.

  You’re playing with fire. His sister’s words came back to him. Someone’s going to get hurt.

  He blinked, dropped the hand that had already been reaching for Abby. It was playing with fire, and dammit, he wasn’t going to hurt Abby. She was special to him, and she deserved better than a lustful, quick roll in the hay.

  It was just all this pretend business that was getting to him, he told himself, like the touching and the occasional quick kisses they’d shared over the week when Emerald and Ruby were around. Once her aunts were gone, Callan was certain the fantasies he kept having about him and Abby would stop.

  He sucked in a deep breath and gestured toward the tavern. “After you,” he said, forcing a light tone.

  The sound of music poured from the tavern into the cool night air, as did the din of the crowd inside. Callan opened the door for Abby, and when she stepped inside, the place went strangely quiet.

  “Surprise!”

  Six

  Abby’s eyes went wide at the sight of the crowded tavern. Every person in the place stared at her and Callan. Emerald and Ruby, dressed in brightly colored sequins and beads and grinning ear to ear, stood under a handmade paper banner strung over the bar that read Congratulations Abby and Callan.

  Oh, dear. Oh dear, dear, dear!

  It seemed as though the entire town was packed into the room
, and all at once they moved forward, shouting best wishes and congratulations. The men slapped Callan’s back and shook his hand, while the women hugged and kissed her.

  “We’re so happy for you.”

  “You make such a darling couple.”

  “Who would have ever guessed?”

  This couldn’t be happening, Abby thought as she was passed from one embrace to the next. It couldn’t be.

  Ruby and Emerald.

  Her aunts had arranged all this. She should have known, should have suspected what they were up to, but she’d been so distracted with Callan staying in her house all week that she’d let her guard down.

  She’d made a terrible mistake not keeping a closer eye on her aunts, and now Callan was going to be furious with her. He would probably never speak to her again, she thought wildly.

  She tried to find him over the sea of heads, but suddenly found herself swept up in a strong pair of arms.

  “Welcome to the family, Sis,” Gabe Sinclair said with a grin, then kissed her soundly on the mouth.

  Good Heavens! Eyes wide, she stared at him, though with his mouth plastered to hers, she couldn’t speak. Gabe, the most serious Sinclair brother, was actually kissing her.

  Before she could draw in a breath, her glasses were snatched off her nose, and she felt herself wrenched from Gabe’s hold, then pulled into another pair of equally strong and equally muscular arms.

  “My turn, Bro.”

  This time it was Lucian kissing her. Lucian, of all people! Lucian, with the short fuse and long temper, had his mouth sealed over hers like a stamp on an envelope.

  She heard the cheers and shouts all around her, but her head was spinning so fast, that if Lucian hadn’t been holding her, she would have crumpled to the floor.

  And then she was dragged from Lucian’s arms into Reese’s, and she couldn’t think at all. Reese Sinclair, obviously determined to outdo his brothers on time and intensity, fused his mouth to hers. She felt the laughter roll in Reese’s chest as the men surrounding them hooted and hollered, felt her face burn with embarrassment at the enthusiasm with which he applied himself to the kiss.

  She’d had no idea that the Sinclair men were so arduous, so passionate. So idiotic.

  “That’s enough, little brother,” Abby heard a wonderfully familiar voice growl beside her.

  This time when she was yanked from Reese, she found herself in the final Sinclair brother’s arms. Callan, his face a tight mask, pulled her close to him, effectively cutting off any more amorous attempts from his brothers or anyone else in the crowd. She sank against him, nearly cried at the wonderful feel of his strong arms around her. She knew he was angry, but she clung to him, anyway, desperate to pull herself together before she had to face anyone else.

  Callan leaned his head down and whispered in her ear, “You okay?”

  She nodded, drew in a long, deep, fortifying breath and held it in her lungs.

  Aunt Ruby started to clang on a bell hanging on the wall beside the bar. “Attention, everyone. May I have your attention.”

  When the crowd quieted, Abby thought for certain they could all hear the wild pounding of her heart. As much as she loved her aunts, at the moment Abby could have strangled them both.

  “As you all know,” Emerald said loudly, “this is an engagement party for our beautiful niece, Abigail Thomas, and her handsome fiancé, Callan Sinclair.”

  As the crowd erupted into whistles and cheers, someone thrust a glass of champagne into Abby’s shaking hand. Emerald waited until she had everyone’s attention, then paused with all the dramatic skill of a lifetime onstage.

  “To our darling Abby.” Emerald raised her glass of champagne. “‘May you always be happy, and live at your ease, get a kind husband and do as you please.”’

  The women cheered at Emerald’s toast, and when Ruby stepped forward and held up her glass, the room quieted again. “To Callan, ‘May your love for Abby be great and true, and tell me, dear, are there any others at home like you?”’

  Ruby nearly brought the roof down with her outrageous toast. The men slapped the other three Sinclair men on the backs while the women shrieked. Even Callan laughed at all the nonsense, and when Abby glanced up at him, it almost appeared as though he really was having a good time. How could he? she wondered. In the midst of all this chaos, this charade, this humiliation, how could he possibly be having fun?

  Her own smile was forced, maybe he was simply putting on a front, too. After all, what else was there to do? They couldn’t very well stand up and say, “Gee, thanks, anyway, but we aren’t really engaged, we were just pretending for Abby’s aunts.”

  She downed the glass of champagne, tried not to wince at the unpleasant taste, then nodded at all the people who were wishing them well. Some were complete strangers, but others—Mr. Weldon from the drugstore, Jane Needham, the manager at the market, Richard from the post office—these were people she knew and saw regularly. How was she ever going to face them again?

  And Callan’s sister, Cara. Abby spotted her sitting at the bar with her husband, Ian, watching, an amused but wary smile on her face. She must know the truth, Abby thought. Callan must have told her, just as he must have told his brothers. But here they were, all celebrating and having a good time as if this truly were an engagement.

  Crazy. This whole thing was insane. And it was her own fault, she thought miserably. She’d brought this entire nightmare on herself.

  All because of one teensy-weensy lie to her aunts. Abby swore to herself that once this was through, she was never, ever, going to tell even the tiniest lie again.

  “Speech! Speech!” Abby’s heart sank at the crowd’s demand. Both she and Callan were pushed and prodded to a small, raised stage at the back of the bar. Maybe Callan would decide he’d had enough of all this and simply tell the truth, Abby thought. Right here in front of the entire town he would admit that he’d only been trying to help poor little Abigail Thomas out of a tight spot.

  When they reached center stage, Callan draped a possessive arm around her shoulder and pulled her close as he looked out at everyone. The room quieted once again, with only a few heckles from the men about matrimony. Breath held, Abby stared over all the heads. Her hands felt icy and stiff.

  “Some of you might be surprised that Abby and I are engaged,” Callan began, “but I think it would be fair to say that no one is more surprised than we are. It’s truly a mystery how things like this happen.” He squeezed her shoulder. “We were going to keep it just between us for a while, but since you all know about it now, well—” he lowered his voice “—we’d like to ask you not to tell anyone else.”

  The room burst into laughter at Callan’s request. Since it seemed as though a great portion of the town seemed to be in the room, he was obviously making a joke. When he grinned down at her and winked, she could only stare at him in disbelief. Here they were, on display, caught in a bald-faced lie, and he was making fun!

  “Give her a kiss, Sinclair,” someone shouted, and everyone joined in until it became a chant. Emerald and Ruby stood in front of the crowd, their eyes brimming with tears.

  Panic filled Abby. Even if she’d wanted to run, she couldn’t have, her knees were shaking so badly. It was one thing for him to kiss her in front of her aunts for show, or that one time in the office when no one else was around. But here, in front of all these people!

  She felt her pulse hammering in her temple, couldn’t seem to bring air into her lungs, but when Callan lowered his face and pressed his lips to hers, they could have been on the Superbowl field with the stands filled and it wouldn’t have mattered.

  Her mind simply went blank.

  She did hear the shouting and encouragement, but it sounded as if it were far away, muffled, as if she had cotton in her ears. He pulled her closer, and she leaned into him, parting her lips as he deepened the kiss. Her blood pounded through her veins, her nerves felt raw and exposed. She felt the crackle of electricity jumping over her skin, heard t
he soft moan rise from deep in her throat.

  If she wasn’t still holding on to the thinnest thread of control, she would have dragged him closer, deepened the kiss even more, slid her hands over his broad chest and steel-like muscles. Instead, she held her palms flat on his chest, felt the warmth of his skin through his shirt even as she felt the heavy thud of his heartbeat.

  With a gasp, Abby broke off the kiss, shocked by her public response to Callan’s kiss. She stared into his eyes, saw the surprise there, as well. And something else. Something dark and sensuous and very primitive. She shivered from the force of it, then felt the heat of her blush on her cheeks.

  Everyone in the room cheered loudly, and when a slow, sexy song filled the tavern, they shouted for the happy couple to dance.

  Dear Lord, Abby thought, but this was going to be a long night.

  Because he was still on fire from the kiss he and Abby had just shared, Callan welcomed the opportunity to simply dance with her and ignore everyone in the room. He needed a minute before he could gather his wits about him again, and several more before his body returned to a more “comfortable” state. Damn if that kiss hadn’t turned him on—and in front of practically the whole blasted town. If she hadn’t pulled away when she had, God knew what he might have done.

  “Callan, I didn’t know about this,” she whispered. “I swear I didn’t.”

  Her warm breath against his ear stirred up flames he’d just barely managed to get under control. To keep his mind off those flames, Callan concentrated on his dancing and managed a fancy step that Cara had taught him a few months ago. It surprised him when Abby followed the step without missing a beat.

  He shrugged. “It was bound to come out sooner or later, especially in this town. At least now we don’t have to worry about who knows and who doesn’t.”

  “Because everyone knows,” she said, closing her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”