“Our Nicky-boy got a ton of attention, but he ended up leaving alone with us at two,” Laura adds.
“Glad you all got home safe.” I ease a few pancakes out of the pan and pour a new batch. Nick going home alone isn’t much of a surprise. He says he’s super picky, and it isn’t my place to speculate beyond that. “On a different note, do either of you want pancakes?”
Sabrina and Laura say yes simultaneously, and I serve up a short stack for each of them.
“Damn,” Sabrina says after a bite, “how did you get wild blueberries? It’sJanuary.”
“They’re frozen?—”
A quiet series of knocks cuts me off, and the three of us exchange confused glances.
“Someone flip the pancakes if they start to burn,” I say absentmindedly, heading for the front door.
It’s Callum. His hair’s a mess, and it’s clear from the thin layer of stubble on his face that he hasn’t shaved since yesterday.
In other words, he’s fuckingdivine.
A cold blast of air from the hallway focuses me, and I step aside, shivering. “Wanna come in, man? It’s freezing.”
He shakes his head. “I’m good, thanks. Just, uh… I’m here to return your jacket.”
Huh?
I don’t have time to think of a reply before Callum startstaking it off, and I clasp a hand around his solid forearm to stop him. “Dude, don’t. I gave that to you.”
He blinks. “Youlentit to me.”
“Well, I'm giving it to you now. I want you to have it.”
“Why?”
Sheesh, he’s stubborn. “I’m too lazy to print out a return label, so you’re actually helping me out by taking it off my hands.”
Everyone has a signature skeptical look, and I’m getting well acquainted with Callum’s.
But damn, if seeing him smolder in disbelief means that I have to keep lying to his handsome face, I might as well accept my new job as the second coming of Pinocchio. Purely for aesthetic reasons, of course.
“It doesn’t matter,” I insist, stepping backward and motioning for Callum to follow me in. “Keep it. The color brings out your pretty eyes.”
Did I actually say that?
The surprised pair of eyes I’m staring into aresooutrageously pretty. Deep, brilliant blue with flecks of gold, framed by the thickest eyelashes I’ve ever seen. A ton of women would kill to have those eyelashes.
Hell,I’dkill to have them.
I should think about getting one of those expensive serums I always see ads for. Or mascara. I'm sure I could make it appear natural.
Callum’s dark, straight brows furrow in the center, giving him an almost ethereal ruggedness. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I might as well roll with this. “It means you’ve got nice eyes. That’s it.” I weigh my next words, deciding to test the waters a little. “Girls aresogonna get lost in them, that’s for sure.”
He gives me a terse nod in return before slipping into the jacket.
Oh well.
“Anyway,” he says. “I’ll head back now. Thanks for the coat.Again.” He turns around, and something in my brain compels me to grab his shoulder.
“Do you want to stay for hangover brunch?” I ask. “Sabrina and Laura are here,andI made pancakes.”
