Levi studied her. “I liked him.”
Her smile broadened. “Everyone does.”
The movie started so they grew silent, but Levi couldn’t get drawn into what was happening on the screen. He was too aware of Callie trying to make herself comfortable in that straight-back chair. She’d pull her knees in and lean to one side. Then she’d drop her feet to the floor and shift to the other.
“Why don’t you come over here, where you can lie down?” he asked.
She acted surprised that he even mentioned it. “Why? I’m fine.”
“If I go over there, will you come over here?”
“That’s not it,” she said.
He stared at her disbelievingly. “Prove it.”
“Sure. No problem.” She got up, stepped around Rifle, who was on the floor, and walked to the couch, but she sat as far away from him as possible.
“That’s not so bad, is it?” he asked.
“Of course not,” she replied as if she hadn’t been avoiding him in the first place. It wasn’t until she started to fall asleep that she allowed him to lift her feet onto his lap.
19
The second Callie felt Levi’s hands on her she was tempted to withdraw. She knew letting him touch her, even in a nonsexual way, would only make her crave more contact. But the swirling motion of his thumbs felt so good on the arches of her feet. She’d had very few foot massages in her life, had no idea they could be so enjoyable—or so erotic.
Her breathing grew shallow as she fought against the deluge of awareness washing over her. She tried telling herself that this little television interlude and foot rub should affect her no more than a date with...with Chief Stacy! She couldn’t be with either man.
But some people were easier to refuse than others....
When his hands began to travel up her legs, to knead her calf muscles, she opened her eyes and watched him from beneath her lashes until she was sure she’d caught his attention.
“I can feel that,” she said.
His hands continued their soothing work. “I was hoping you could.”
Forcing herself to remove her feet from his lap, she sat up. “It’s late. We should get some sleep.”
Nothing. No response from him.
“See you in the morning.”
He reached for her when she got up, but let her slip from his grasp when she seemed intent on it.
“Good night,” she said.
* * *
Cheyenne Amos tapped her fingers on the table as she waited for her phone to ring.
“Aren’t you coming to bed?”
At the sound of her husband’s voice, which she heard over the TV he was watching, she walked to the doorway of her bedroom to see that he had Lucky, her three-legged dog, as well as his two dogs with him. He’d stacked some pillows behind his back and was wielding the remote. He slept in his underwear, so his chest was bare. She found that an appealing sight. He was eager enough to have her join him that the rest of him might be bare, too....
The possibility made the temptation to crawl in with him that much stronger. She loved nothing more than making love with Dylan, curling up and falling asleep together, then waking up and sharing another day with him. But she couldn’t succumb to the promise of what he offered just yet.
“There you are. What are you doing?” he asked when he saw her standing in the doorway.
She was just watching him, thinking about how happy she’d been since she’d met him, but she told him that often enough. “I’m expecting a call from Eve, Riley, Baxter and Noah. We’re getting Kyle on the phone, too. We’re worried about Callie. She’s been acting strange for a long time and we need to get to the bottom of it.”
“If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s Kyle.”
“Exactly.”
He was watching an MMA fight he’d recorded on their DVR. He’d once supported his younger brothers by getting in the ring and he still had a lot of interest in the sport. He usually watched the matches with his brothers. But since he’d bought her a two-bedroom home in town, complete with a white picket fence he’d built himself, he didn’t see his brothers after work quite as often as when they’d all been living down in the river bottoms.
“She wasn’t herself on Friday,” he said. “But what about Sophia? You didn’t mention her or Ted.”
Folding her arms, Cheyenne leaned against the doorjamb, her attention on the fight as they talked. “I’ve tried to reach Sophia. I can’t get her to pick up. I’m afraid she’s still upset by what Ted said to her. That wasn’t necessary.”
“You don’t think she was responsible for Scott’s crash?”
“I really can’t say. But who are we to punish her for it? Besides, it happened a long time ago.”
“Makes sense to me.” He scratched behind Lucky’s ears, and she whined her thanks. “And Ted’s not joining the call because...”
“We didn’t invite him. We’re a little ticked off by how he treated her. I love Ted, but he can be harsh.”
“He’s too damn smart for his own good. But you once told me he has reason to dislike her.”
Until he was forced to drop out, Dylan had gone to the same high school they had. He’d just been too busy raising hell to notice what was going on with their group. They hadn’t interacted with him much back then. Cheyenne might not have gotten to know him at all if her sister hadn’t started hanging out with him and his brothers. “He does,” she said, “but it’s time to get past old grievances. He knows she’s not happy. He’s seen the bruises on her arms and face. That should be punishment enough.”
“Maybe he still wants her. Maybe that hasn’t changed.”
“You might be right. Otherwise, he’d be able to let it go.”
He adjusted the blankets, and Lucky and the other two dogs shifted before settling down again. “Did you get the message that Presley called?”
“Yeah, I talked to her.”
“Everything okay?”
“Fine.” Cheyenne could hardly believe it, but her sister had been out of rehab for three months. That meant she’d been clean and sober for six—which was a relief on many counts but none more critical than the fact that she was almost seven months pregnant. The baby belonged to Aaron, Dylan’s younger brother, but no one besides Presley and Cheyenne knew that. Cheyenne hated keeping such a secret from her husband. She was afraid of how he might react if he found out, hoped that day never came because she had no choice in the deception. That baby was the only thing Presley had to cling to, the only reason powerful enough to get her to give up the drugs that had almost destroyed her life.