“There’s more in the other bag. I just haven’t opened it yet.”
“More, huh? You’re really going all out. Is this your clever way of ensuring I’m too full to leave?”
He shoots me an exasperated look, but I catch the corner of his mouth twitching. I’m not fooled. He’s pretending to be annoyed, but I can see right through it.
“I’m just teasing,” I add quickly, waving him off before he can say anything. “You’re in luck. I love Thai. This is all great.”
His shoulders relax slightly. For a guy who wearsunbotheredlike a badge of honor, it’s kind of sweet that he’s so tuned in.
I grab a little bit of everything from the spread, my plate quickly turning into what could only be described as a sampler platter of dreams. The second I take my first bite, it’s like my taste buds have been hit with spicy, tangy fireworks. Someone definitely worked a little magic in that kitchen.
I pause, trying not to look like a complete savage as I bring my hand to my lips, fighting the urge to talk with my mouth full.
“Mm, wow,” I manage after swallowing. “This might be some of the best Thai I’ve ever had.”
“Hell yeah, it is,” he says. “I always order from this place when I’m in Edinburgh.” He takes a bite of his own, nodding like it’s the same level of life-changing every time. “They’ve got everything. Sweet, spicy, savory. They know exactly what I need.”
“High maintenance, are you?”
“Nah,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “I just have standards.”
I snort. “Sure, let’s call it that.”
He chuckles, shaking his head as he digs back into his food, and I can’t help but smile. This feels easy, natural, like it’s the most normal thing in the world to be sitting here sharing food and teasing each other.
“So, are you always this generous with your takeout orders?” I ask.
He shrugs. “Only when I’m trying to impress someone.”
My heart skips a beat, and I immediately tell myself to relax. It’s just Callan being Callan. Confident, playful, and probably just saying it to get a reaction. Still, the way he says it, like it’s a fact he’s not even trying to hide, sends warmth rushing to my cheeks.
I should laugh it off, but my brain has already decided to run a marathon.
“Well…it’s working.”
“Good.” His voice drops an octave. “Because I’ve got a few more tricks up my sleeve.”
And just like that, my pulse kicks into overdrive.
“Damn it, Callan,”I mutter, pacing the room as I glance over my shoulder for what feels like the hundredth time. “I’m not going to be able to sleep tonight.”
We’re supposed to be winding down, but there’s no way my brain is shutting off. My nerves are fried from the creepy stories and that eerie history lesson during the tour. Even though it’s over, the unsettling vibe lingers. I swear there’s a bizarre, heavy pressure behind me, like someone is standing there breathing down my neck. And not in the way I’d prefer.
Callan, of course, grins like he’s having the time of his life. “Well, at least you won’t be alone. Didn’t the guide mentionsomething about nocturnal visitors who like to hang around people who can’t sleep? Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
He pauses for dramatic effect, clearly reveling in the chaos he’s causing. Then, just when I think he can’t make it worse, he adds with a wink, “Or, you know, we could always leave the light on. I hear ghosts are terrified of lamps.”
“Hilarious,” I deadpan, though I’m fighting the urge to laugh because his smug delivery is infuriatingly perfect. “Well, you’re the one who has to deal with me now.”
“You’re telling me that outgoing, outrageous, little Miss Sunshine is afraid of ghosts?”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t completely hide the nervous laugh that escapes me. “I’m not afraid of ghosts,” I say, trying to sound more confident than I feel. “I just…respect them. And tonight, they’re definitely earning my respect.”
He laughs that deep, teasing chuckle that makes my stomach do flips. “So, you’re telling me that if a ghost knocked on the door right now, you wouldn’t be like, ‘Hey, come on in, I’ve got snacks!’”
I glare at him, even though my heart is racing in thatridiculousway it does when I’m caught somewhere between wanting to slap him and kiss him senseless. “I’d offer them some cookies,” I say. “But only if they promise to stop whispering in my ear. And maybe stay on the other side of the room, please.”
“You’re something else.” He smirks. “Have I mentioned that I’d like to keep you around? Because if I haven’t, I definitely would.”
