The more that she tries not to think about it, the more that she needs it. It's going to be a long couple of hours waiting.
This time, she's not going home without someone making sure that she's not going home frustrated. If she's got any luck at all, then she's got someone in mind. If not—she's not sure what she'll do, but at the end of it, whatever it has to be, she knows one thing.
If she doesn't scream, it's not over yet.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
The biggest thing that kept him from walking out right then and there was that she'd told him that his suit looked nice the last time they were together.
Philip Callahan hadn't been on the inside of a real restaurant in a long time. Longer, frankly, than he was entirely prepared to admit. And to be the first one there? His hands wanted to clench up into little balls.
Now he looked like some kind of idiot, and that was only if he was just a little early. If she was late, he'd be waiting there for her, as alone as could be.
If she didn't show—there was no reason to assume that. He cuts the thought off before it can take too deep a root. He's too old to be sitting there worrying like a seventeen year old kid on his first date. That was a long time ago, now, and the nerves that went along with it are long past.
Which is why, in spite of the fact that there's certainly something twisting his stomach up in knots, he's not going to attribute it to nerves about a damn date. The nerves that threaten to eat at him tell a different story.
Callahan leans back against the seat that they've got sitting out in the waiting room. Nothing to do but wait. She'll show up. He's got no reason to assume that she won't. Don't be an idiot.
He closes his eyes a minute. He shouldn't have lied to her, either. If he wants to talk to her about maybe getting an option on selling the ranch, he should've come out and said it.
They could have plenty of personal time—personal time that didn't come with any strings attached or promises, he added to himself and to his stirring arousal—after they'd really cleared the air about what his intentions were with the land.
But he shouldn't try to play it as if he's not even thinking about it, not now that the thought's started to occur to him more and more often. Not now that he needs the money more than he needs to be obstinate.
He hears the door open. The air whooshes out of the climate-controlled restaurant, a little too cold for comfort, and rush into the open air. The warm breeze that comes along with it is a comfort, as well.
She looks around for a minute, unsure where she's supposed to go. The way that she doesn't head right up to the desk, she must have seen his truck, but she doesn't see him at first.
Callahan can't help taking advantage of the situation for a moment, allowing himself to look her up and down. Her clothes are tight-fitted and show off all the right parts, all the parts a man looks at on a woman. Just like the last one, it implies without giving away the whole show, and in spite of his best intentions, his body responds.
"Glad you made it," he says, stepping up beside her. Morgan jumps back and hits into his chest as she turns. Having her this close is intoxicating, and having the opportunity to tease her doubly so.
She fits comfortably into his arms, even though he hadn't meant to pull her in. Now that she was there, wrapped in his strong arms, it felt too right to stop all of a sudden.
She smelled sweet. A vaguely flowery smell that smelled very much like a woman was supposed to. One that complimented the soft curves that his hands pressed against.
"Philip. It's you."
He smiles. "Yes, it's me."
Callahan lets her go reluctantly, but she doesn't pull back. "Have you been waiting long?"
"Only a few hours. I called you, when, noon?"
Morgan rolls her eyes, but it only serves to egg Callahan on. He winks. "Only another minute or two until we get our table." He guides her back to his seat, positioned just so that they can see the hostess stand without being right in the middle of the room where everyone can gawk at them. "You look lovely tonight, by the way."
She lights up a little bit. "You think?"
"Absolutely. You light the place up."
She flushes again. He likes that, likes his ability to get her to r
eact to his flirtation. It was something that he'd always liked in women.
"Well, thank you." She shifts in her seat, unsure how to respond.
"Of course."