Too Good to Be True - Kristan Higgins [109]
He had a point. I didn’t answer. “I have no way of proving that I didn’t do exactly what my brother said I did,” he added quietly.
My heart ached in a sudden, sharp tug as I tried to imagine what it would feel like to be turned in by Margaret or Natalie. To be betrayed by one of them. I couldn’t. Yes, of course Nat had fallen for Andrew, but that wasn’t her fault. I never thought so, anyway, and I knew my sister. But to have your own brother send you to jail for his crime…man. No wonder Cal had an edge when it came to discussing his past.
“So you were going to tell me all this? Even without Margs digging around in your records?”
“Yes.”
“Why now? Why not all the other times I asked?”
“Because we started something last night. I thought we did, anyway.” His voice was hard. “So that’s the story. Now you know.”
We sat in silence for a few more minutes. Angus, weary of being ignored, yarped once and wagged his tail, inviting me to adore him. I petted his fur idly and adjusted his bandana, idly noting that he’d eaten Cal’s omelet while we were talking.
“Cal?” I finally said.
“Yeah.” His voice was flat, his shoulders tight.
“Would you like to have dinner with my family sometime?”
He didn’t move for a second, then practically sprang across the distance between us. His smile lit up the gloom. “Yes.”
He wrapped his big arms around me and kissed me hard, and Angus nipped him. Then we cleared the dishes and went to his place.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
THE NEXT DAY was Memorial Day, so I didn’t have to crawl out of Cal’s bed at the crack of dawn. Instead, we walked down to Lala’s for pastries and meandered back along the Farmington.
“Do you have plans this afternoon?” Callahan asked, taking a long pull from his coffee.
“What if I did?” I asked, tugging Angus’s leash so he wouldn’t eat or roll on the poor dead mouse at the edge of the path.
“You’d have to cancel them.” He grinned, slipping his arm around my waist.
“Oh, really?”
“Mmm-hmm.” He wiped a little frosting off my chin, then kissed me.
“Okay, then. I’m yours,” I murmured.
“I like the sound of that,” he said, kissing me again, long and slow and sweet, so that my knees wobbled when he let me go. “I’ll pick you up around two, but I have to run now. The appliances are being installed today.”
“You’re almost done with the house, aren’t you?” I asked, a sudden pang hitting my heart.
“Yup,” he answered.
“What happens after that?”
“I have another house to work on, couple towns north. But if you want, I can come back and lie on the roof of this house so you can spy on me. If the new owners don’t mind.”
“I never spied. It was more of a gazing thing.”
He grinned, then glanced at his watch. “Okay, Grace. Gotta run.” He kissed me once more, then went up the path to his house. “Two o’clock, don’t forget.”
I let out some line on Angus’s retractable leash so my puppy could sniff a fern and took a pull of my own coffee. Then I headed back home to correct papers.
As I sifted through my kids’ essays, I had an uneasy thought. I needed to tell the Manning search committee about Callahan. He was, after all, in my life now, and I should be upfront about that. However it happened, Cal had served time in a federal prison, had covered up a crime, even though his intentions had been honorable. That wasn’t something I should try to hide. That was also something that would probably tank whatever chance I had at becoming chairman of the history department. Nonprofit institutions tended to frown on embezzling and felons and prison records, especially where impressionable children were concerned.
My shoulders drooped at the thought. Well. I had to do it just the same.
At two o’clock sharp, Cal came up the walk. “You ready, woman?” he called through the screen door as Angus leaped and snarled from the other side.
“I have four papers left to grade. Can you wait half an hour?”
“No. Do it in the car, okay?”
I blinked. “Yes, Master.” He grinned. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll find out when we get there. When do you think this dog will like me?”
“Possibly never,