On My Way To You (Broken Love Duet 2)

Mitch was right. I am pathetic.

CHAPTER 34

Reed

“You’re fixing breakfast?”

I walk into the kitchen and despite it being ten in the morning, I’m worn out. I slept with Callie again last night and I managed not to touch her the way my body truly wanted me to, but that didn’t mean I was able to sleep. I’m walking a tightrope here. I’m trying to touch her often and get her used to me, hoping that with time she will get used to my touch and be able to decipher it from the memories in her mind. I don’t know if it will work, but hell if I know what else to do.

Usually, I’m up before Callie, but when I see her standing in front of the stove—looking hot as fuck in those damn yoga pants and a loose t-shirt—it’s clear that she’s been up for quite a while.

“Yeah, I figured I owed you,” she says giving me a smile as she looks over her shoulder. “Besides, I’m not Katie. I actually can cook.” She laughs and I hold onto that sound because it makes me feel better that she seems happy. Maybe I didn’t fuck up too bad yesterday.

“I remember. When we lived together, I gained twenty pounds.”

She giggles when I give her a wink and it makes me breathe easier.

“That was because you loved banana bread,” she counters. “Take a seat and I’ll serve you up some food as soon as the French toast is done.”

“It wasn’t only the banana bread,” I argue. “Your banana pudding can’t be beat.”

“You’re banana crazy.” I get the juice and things out of the fridge, along with two glasses and fix those. Working in the small kitchen with Callie feels natural—and damn good. She looks over her shoulder at me and I can tell she totally agrees. Something shifts inside of me. I’ve always known that Callie was the woman for me. I knew it from moment I laid eyes on her. We both managed to fuck that up, but there’s such a thing as second chances and I’m going to grab hold of ours with both hands.

I just hope she does the same.

A knock at the door has us both looking up.

“Are Katie and Jeff coming over?” I ask.

“Not that I know of. They were planning on taking Lennon to that new pizza place in Houston.”

I nod and go to the door. When I open it up there are two men in suits standing there. I’ve never been in trouble before, so maybe it’s because in the back of my mind I’ve been expecting this, I peg them right away.

“Can I help you?” I ask my voice calm and steady.

“I’m Detective Blevins and this is Detective Cage. We’re looking for a Ms. Lane?”

“I’m Callie Lane.”

I look behind me and see Callie has slid in beside me. I was so focused on the detectives that I hadn’t noticed her. I put my arm around her, hoping to give her a little more strength. I know it’s hard for her to be around strangers—especially men right now.

“Good morning, Ms. Lane. I was wondering if you could spare a minute to speak with us.”

“Certainly. Come in gentlemen,” she says standing back. I join her, albeit grudgingly.

She escorts them to the living room, and I bring up the rear. I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of anything that comes. I would do it over again in a heartbeat. I don’t know if that makes me a bad person. I’ve always thought I was a decent guy. I just know that I would move heaven and earth to keep Callie safe. She’s never had one person to look out for her and I may have fucked that up when we were together, but it won’t happen again. If the worst happens, I’ll make Jeff and Jake keep an eye on Callie until a time when I can.

“We’re sorry to bother you Ms. Lane.”

“Callie, please. Honestly, I may end up getting my name changed back. Nothing about being Mrs. Lane has been good for me. I’m sure you know that.”

I frown. I don’t like that at all. I want her to keep the name Lane—just with my ring on her finger. She’s not ready to hear that just yet. So, I say nothing.

“Callie,” Detective Cage responds. “I’m afraid we’re here with bad news.”

“The wreck in Lassiter was my husband,” Callie responds.

“It was, although, if you don’t mind me saying Ms. Lane, you seem pretty certain about that.”

“I saw it on the news, and I was pretty sure immediately. Every Friday night my husband used to like to tie me to the bed after hitting me until he was sure I was too sore to go anywhere. Then, he would go to an underground gambling game in Lassiter and waste my paycheck,” she delivers. She’s so calm that I’d be proud as hell—if I hadn’t just been sucker punched.