All That Sparkles (Siren Publishing Classic)

by D. Morrissey

  I wait with baited breath for him to tell me about his dad. But he says instead, “Okay. You’ve seen my shop. Now, let’s go.”

  I get over my disappointment quickly as he grabs my hand and pulls me back through the shop like a man on a mission. There’s so much more in here to see that I’m sure will give me more insight into the inner workings of my hot little hitman. But I know I won’t get to look through any more of it today.

  I step back while he locks the door of the shop, wondering if he’s going to hold my hand again and hoping that he will. I like it when he holds my hand. Steve wasn’t a hand-holder and even if he was, I don’t think I would have gotten the same thrill from it.

  “Okay, this way.” He begins walking down a narrow dirt path beside the shop and I follow behind him, frowning, my hand feeling lonely without his in it.

  We walk to the edge of the wood line toward the sound of running water. A creek! A few more steps and I see a short bridge running over the path just ahead and jutting through the woods.

  “Oh, Cal. It’s fantastic!” I squeal, as I hold my hand over the rail and drop leaves into the babbling creek water below. “Did you build this, too?”

  He smiles. “No. This is the only thing that was actually here when I bought the place. But look at this.” He steps to the other side, running his hand down one of the planks, looking for something. My eyes follow his fingers.

  “Here!” he says, excited. “That’s what I thought. Look!”

  I step closer behind him, pressing myself against his back and peering around him. My mouth falls open as I stare at the letters carved into the old wood.

  “CS loves EC, with a heart drawn around it.”

  Did he do that? No way. He couldn’t have. We’ve only known each other for a couple of days and this has obviously been here for a lot longer than that. Not that he loves me, anyway.

  “How weird is that?” He grins, running his finger over the carving. “These are our initials! I thought I remembered them being CS and EC. I’ve wondered about these since the first time I saw them. You can tell it’s been here for a long time.”

  I nod, smiling and thinking it would be more appropriate if it said EC loves CS. But still, he’s right. It’s very weird. Could the universe be giving me some good news for a change?

  “Okay. A little bit farther now. You cold?” He turns to me, adjusting my Cal blanket around me, and swiping a stray strand of hair behind my ear. His warm hand lingers rubbing my neck, and I catch the red flecks that sparkle in his eyes.

  “No. I’m perfect,” I coo.

  He smiles, and leans forward, giving me the perfect kiss.

  “Yes, you certainly are,” he whispers.

  I stop breathing. If it wasn’t so chilly, I would probably rip his clothes off and take him right here on the bridge next to our initials. But before I can act on my impulse, he takes my hand and leads me away again.

  We traipse through a good deal of woods, following a pathway through the north side of the property. He is clearly excited, in his element, and I can tell he loves the place as he points out every type of tree, fauna, and bird that we come across. I really couldn’t care less whether it’s a Tufted Titmouse or a Barn Swallow up there chirping in that Elm tree. But I nod and smile anyway, just enjoying the happy glow on his face as he explains and the feel of his warm hand in mine.

  “Right up there.” He stops and points to the top of a small incline. “Now, don’t be too disappointed. I just wanted to show you my favorite spot. I love coming here in the summer, but it’s really nice this time of the year, too, with all the leaves changing.”

  He wants to show me his favorite spot? I get almost giddy. “I can’t wait to see it.”

  We start up the incline, which isn’t too steep, but he keeps a tight hold on my hand nevertheless.

  “Careful,” he says, maybe a little bit too overprotective, I think.

  He reaches the top and turns, grabbing me and practically lifting me in front of him.

  I gasp. “Oh my God, Cal. It’s wonderful!” We’ve only climbed up a small incline, and now we’re resting on top of a huge natural cliff, looking out over a wide, torrential river.

  The other side is a series of rough, rocky crags, covered with thick, dense trees across the top and sprinkled throughout the face of the cliff. They look as though they’re stretching their arms toward the water below, their leaves a virtual sea of brilliant colors. Upriver there’s a wide, green valley, with soft, rolling hills, and a few grazing cattle.

  I can feel him smiling as he wraps his arms around me and snuggles me tightly to his chest like he’s afraid the wind might blow me away.

  “That’s the Saline River, baby!” he says proudly, as if he made it himself, and I giggle.

  “I didn’t realize the Saline was that fast or that rough.” I watch the fast moving current below, shocked by the white water rapids.

  “It’s normally not,” he explains. “It’s all the rain we’ve had. If it were summer, we could climb down that path over there to the bank and fish. You can’t see it now because the water’s too high.” He leans down, placing his lips against my ear. “Or, better yet, we could go skinny dipping.”

  I giggle. “I don’t know how I feel about swimming with fish.”

  “You don’t bother them, they won’t bother you.” I’ve heard this lofty advice all my life, but have rarely found it to be true.

  We stand there atop the cliff gazing out over the murky waters of the Saline River and the tranquil surrounding landscape for the next several minutes, his arms wrapped tightly around me, gently rocking, and I’m in heaven, his heaven.

  “Is all this yours?” I ask as we start back down toward the path.

  “All of it on this side of the river. I want to build a gazebo or something over there.” He points to a large clearing at the bottom of the hill. “But I’m afraid of ruining the natural beauty of the place.” I nod, though I doubt seriously whether he could build something that wouldn’t add to the beauty of anything.

  We take our time strolling back, pausing on the little bridge next to our initials, and looking over the side.

  “You hungry?”

  “Not too bad. I had a six-course breakfast.” I giggle.

  He stares at me, a contented look on his face. “I’ve never shown anyone this place before.”

  Really? I shine at him. “Well, I’m glad you showed it to me.”

  I ponder whether this is the right time to let him know that I have to go into work early tomorrow. I really need to go home and finish my laundry, not to mention shop for groceries. I’ve been gone all weekend and there aren’t many restaurants near my work that are open at three in the morning when I take my lunch break.

  “Cal?”

  He stares at the water below. “Yeah?”

  “I checked my messages this morning and they want me to come into work tomorrow at three instead of eleven.”

  He doesn’t move. He just stares and says nothing. I wait, uncomfortably.

  “I need to at least run home and pick up some clothes and my work boots.”

  He still doesn’t speak. “Cal?”

  “Absolutely not,” he says, finally, using the same voice I heard him use on the phone this morning. Say what?

  “I have to go to work, Cal.”

  “We don’t have Everett in custody yet.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts thumbing through his texts.

  “Does that mean you have Danny?”

  He freezes for a split-second and then continues scrolling through his messages.

  “Yes.”

  “So, I should be okay then. Right?”

  He locks his phone and shoves it back into his pocket. “Not yet. He’ll be arraigned in the morning, and I need to make sure he doesn’t get bail. And, even if he doesn’t, you can’t go back home, or to work, until we get Everett, too.”

  My heart sinks into my big toe. And then, I get angry, more at Danny than Cal, I think. Or, ma
ybe it’s a toss-up at this point.

  “I have to go to work! I may not have a houseful of kids to feed, but I do have a mortgage and bills, not to mention a little thing called food that I have to buy.” I stare a hole through the side of his face and slowly, he turns to look at me.

  “Call in sick,” he says a bit too flippantly for my taste, and it pisses me off even more.

  “I can’t call in sick! For one thing, I just got my full-time status. And, secondly, I have to pull a double shift tomorrow to cover for someone who was in a car wreck. There’s no way I can call in.”

  “I’ll call in for you, then. I’ll tell them you’re helping the Attorney General’s office with an important case.”

  My mouth falls open and I stutter. “I…I…oh, that will go over well. The police calling my employer and telling them I can’t come into work should make them feel a lot better about it.”

  “I’m not the police.”

  “Whatever. You know what I mean,” I snap.

  “Ellie—”

  “Callum.” I cut him off before he can say anything else.

  He stifles a grin and I want to slap him again. “We don’t want you to go back until we’re sure it’s safe and both Everett and Logan are indisposed.”

  “Well, you’d better make sure they’re both indisposed by two o’clock tomorrow afternoon, because that’s when I’ll be leaving for work.” I turn, huffy, and head back toward the house.

  I can tell he’s following me from a safe distance behind as I march, fuming, all the way back to the house.

  He steps around me and unlocks the back door, pushing it open and stepping aside so I can go in. I get the distinct impression that he’s afraid of me right now, probably with good reason. My phone rings as soon as we get to the end of the hall and I jog over and pick it up without even looking to see who it is.

  “Hello.”

  It’s Rachael, and she lays into me first for not checking in last night, and then for not telling her about Cal. I roll my eyes, unable to get a word in edgewise. I give up and let her rant while I drop Cal’s jacket on the chair, and amble over to the fireplace. It’s not lit, but there’s just something magnetic about a fireplace that draws you in to them. Finally, Rachael pauses long enough for me to speak.

  “Look. I know. I’m sorry, but I’m fine. Really.” I pause. “Yes, I’m still here with him.” I cut my eyes toward the kitchen where Cal is flitting around, pretending not to listen. I speak up so he’s sure to hear what I say next.

  “I’ll be home either tonight or in the morning for sure. I have to pull a double shift at the plant tomorrow, but I’ll call you when I get up on Tuesday.”

  Still not happy, but pacified enough for the moment, Rachael finally agrees. “I love you, too,” I say, a little awkwardly. “Bye.” A look of curiosity flashes across Cal’s face, but he doesn’t ask who I was speaking to.

  I saunter over to the bar in the kitchen where Cal has a virtual sandwich smorgasbord laid out for us.

  I start to feel like a brat throwing a temper tantrum. But I never agreed to all this crazy nonsense. I have a life, not a particularly exciting one. But a life, nevertheless. I didn’t ask to be a witness in a murder trial, and I didn’t ask for Danny Logan to try and kill me. I also didn’t ask Cal to take me in, although I know, deep down, that I’m glad he did. Still, he could have taken me to a motel or something. What if wants to take me to one now? I wouldn’t be surprised if he did, given the way I’m acting. The thought makes me sad, so I try to schmooze it over with him.

  “Cal, I’m sorry.” He doesn’t acknowledge me, so I continue. “I just can’t lose my job.”

  “They won’t fire you,” he says without looking up.

  “They might. I’ve seen them fire people for less.”

  “I’d kick someone’s ass,” he mumbles.

  I shake my head. “That still wouldn’t help me pay my mortgage. And what would your office say if you went over there and beat up my boss? Who, by the way, happens to be a really nice guy.” I grin.

  “Was that him on the phone?” he asks a bit pouty.

  What? I give him a look of utter disbelief.

  “Um…no. It was Rachael. I’m not in the habit of telling my boss that I love him. And I’m sure his wife wouldn’t like that very much, either.”

  He chuckles and looks up at me, finally. “Well, maybe I wouldn’t kick his ass then. But I would sure sue it. And, believe me, by the time I finished serving them with the paperwork, you’d get a raise and a promotion out of the deal.”

  Could he really do that? “I’m going to work tomorrow.”

  He sighs and pauses, as if thinking. “No.” And then goes back to making sandwiches.

  No? No he says? I like this guy. A lot. Maybe could even love him. But no man is going to tell me what I can and cannot do. And if he wants me out of his house, more the better right now. I see red.

  “I’m going. You can’t stop me. End of discussion.” There! Take that!

  “You’re not and I can.” He looks up, scowling dangerously. “I do have handcuffs in my office.”

  Ooh! Handcuffs? Stop it! Do not let yourself be distracted by shiny objects! “I am, Cal,” I say softly. “Now, are you going to take me home? Or, do I need to call for a ride?”

  He looks at me, a sandwich knife poised in his hand. “Ellie—”

  “Callum,” I interrupt.

  He stares at me, finally shaking his head in defeat. “I will.”

  I breathe again.

  “Tomorrow,” he adds. “Not tonight.”

  I can live without laundry, and I’ll squeeze in a trip to the grocery store next week. I smile. “Deal.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  With our first squabble behind us, I start to feel like a real couple, almost. We feast on sandwiches and wine for the next hour or so, and we both start to relax again.

  “It’s probably a good thing I’m leaving in the morning,” I say, my hands pressed against my full stomach.

  “Oh, really? Why’s that?” He eyes me suspiciously.

  “I think I’ve gained about five pounds today already. That was delicious.”

  I stand up and kiss him on the cheek. “Thank you. I’ll clean up,” I offer as I start grabbing plates and napkins.

  “Here.” He stands. “I’ll help.”

  “No way. You cooked. I’ll clean up.”

  “We had sandwiches. There was no cooking involved.”

  “Well, you prepared them then.” I giggle and head around the bar with my arms full. I turn on the water in the sink, rinse off the dishes and begin stacking them in the dishwasher.

  He stands at the bar, leaning on his elbows, watching me and smirking.

  I smile nervously. “What?”

  “You sure are stubborn, Ellie Rose.”

  No, he did not just use my middle name.

  “Only when I know I’m right, Callum Douglas Stone the Third. Only when I’m right.”

  His eyes get big for a second and then they narrow suspiciously as he smiles. I can tell he wants to ask me how I know his full name, but he doesn’t give me the satisfaction. I wouldn’t tell him anyway.

  “You know, when I was sitting with you on your front porch yesterday, I never would have believed that you’d be here in my house today washing dishes.”

  I laugh. “Tell me about it. You’re not any more shocked than I am, believe me.”

  “I didn’t think you liked me very much.” He chuckles. “And, it’s just strange seeing a woman in my kitchen.” Then, he muses, more to himself than to me. “Except for Ms. Lewis.”

  “Ms. Lewis?” I almost drop a glass, wondering if that’s who I saw in the photos upstairs. “Who’s Ms. Lewis?” I ask, trying to sound casual.

  “My housekeeper. She comes on Fridays.”

  I picture a shapely young tart running around with a feather duster and wearing a French maid’s uniform. “Well, there goes my image of you as the perfect man. All this time I thought you
were Mr. Tidy.”

  He laughs and walks around the bar to lean on the counter beside me. “So, you imagined me as the perfect man, huh?” His deep brown eyes sparkle mischievously and he grins his sexy-grin. I blush the color of the wine in the glass beside me.

  “Uh…well…maybe,” I stammer. “But that was before, when I thought you could cook, do laundry, make beds, and keep the house. Now…I’m not so sure.”

  “Oh, I can do all those things,” he says, and leans over to kiss my shoulder. “And more.”

  I almost drop a plate this time. Whew! This man gets under my skin. I look at him and smile, ready now to finish what he started in the laundry room before we left this morning.

  I’m about to attack him when his phone rings. Dammit. He stands up, fishes it out of his pocket, and starts pacing toward the living room.

  “Hello?”

  I finish stacking the dishes, hoping he doesn’t leave the living room so I can hear.

  “You did? That’s great.”

  Did what? What’d he do? Get Everett?

  “Okay. Well, what time do they want to move it to?”

  He sighs. “No, that’s not good for me. I don’t care if there’s anything on my calendar or not. I want it set before ten.”

  He sighs into the phone. “Hang on.” Turning around, he shouts toward the kitchen. “What time will you need to leave to get to work tomorrow?”

  Huh? “Between two and two-thirty,” I shout back, closing the dishwasher and wiping my hands.

  “See if they can do it at twelve-thirty,” he says, returning to his call. “Yes, I’m with her right now, but I’m taking her to a motel for the night.”

  What? He’s taking me to a motel? My spirits suddenly sink and then I get angry, angry with him for taking advantage, and angry with myself for having let him dazzle me like some horny teenager. I should have known. He’s way too handsome to want someone like me. I was a convenient distraction for him, nothing more. He said it himself this morning. And, when this is over, and Everett and Logan are behind bars with my testimony, I’ll probably never see him again. Do not let him hurt you. Just act like you don’t care. But, truth is, I do care and I find myself on the verge of tears.