A Song That Never Ends (Broken Love Duet 3)

We walk around the house, and he gives me a tour. Each room is better than the last if I’m honest. Reed even has a room downstairs that is divided into a living area with a pool table and an old-fashioned jukebox in the corner. It’s connected to a huge recording studio which tells me he took time to think out this house and make it perfect for him. I’m not sure what to make out of that, but it makes me feel nervous and excited all that the same time.

He doesn’t really show me the bedrooms, but instead just points them out while keeping the doors closed. I can admit to being curious, but I’m also glad he keeps them closed. He walks me back the way I came, and while before I noticed how spectacular the main rooms were, this time, he gives me a better tour of the kitchen, and I can see it opens to a huge den/living room. The entire side is ceiling to floor, wall to wall windows and doors, so you can see the landscape and the view of the hills. Texas doesn’t really have a lot of mountainous areas. I figure the previous owner paid a lot to have the area landscaped so that it was on a man-made incline. He definitely paid to have it planted with large trees and rocks. It somehow looks as if it is entirely natural—and breathtaking. As we step out onto the deck and the wind blows, I can also concede that it’s so much cooler.

“Reed, this is beautiful. You even redid the pool.”

“I kept a lot of it true to the original plans and added things I wanted. I’m proud of it.”

“You should be,” I admit, afraid to say anything else because I’m not sure why he did all of this. Reed outgrew this little town years ago—surely, he knows that.

“Stop overthinking, Callie,” he cautions.

“I’m sorry?” I ask, looking up at him.

“Bluebird, you’re thinking so hard I can literally see the gears turning in that pretty head of yours. Just enjoy tonight. Let’s take this hour by hour, day by day.”

“I’m not sure there’s a this to worry about, Reed.”

“Oh, there’s definitely a this,” he says smoothly, coming over to me and sliding his hand under my hair. He holds my face so that I’m forced to look at him—not that I’m sure I could look anywhere else. He’s too intense and beautiful. He’s also precious to me, as silly as that is to say. I’ve gone so long without looking at him, that now, he’s like a drug and I just can’t get enough.

I want to argue, but for a moment I just let myself feel the pull between us and relish in it. “Then, maybe we should take it minute by minute,” I suggest.

“I can work with that. Tell me, Bluebird, how many minutes do you think are in a kiss?” he asks, his voice soft and sexy, his eyes dark and seductive. I feel my body lean into him, unable to resist his pull.

“I…I don’t know,” I breathe out, my heart picking up its tempo. Then, his lips are on mine, and I turn myself over to his kiss and all of the hunger he’s slowly awakening in me.

CHAPTER 26

Reed

“How did you start traveling for your job?” I ask when we hit a silence.

It’s been a good night. I grilled some steaks and baked potatoes, while Callie made the salads. It was a fucking great dinner, but the best part was the way we worked together. It was fun, easy and we laughed together. It was like old times in a way—but different.

She looks over her wine glass at me and smiles. “My therapist actually suggested it,” she laughs, a hint of pink tinging her cheeks.

“You go to therapy?” I prod. I already know thanks to Jeff. Still, I want to hear her story from her. I want her to trust me with it.

“Yeah, I was actually seeing someone before you left Macon five years ago. It helped some, but she had to move away for family reasons. Pastor Kurt helped me find someone through the church outreach program, and it has really helped me.”

She avoids my eyes as she talks now. I know she’s embarrassed, but I don’t want her to be. I’m glad she’s continuing therapy. She has been through hell. In fact, there’s only one thing that I don’t like.

“Pastor Kurt seems really helpful when it comes to you.”

“He’s a good guy,” she says—again avoiding my eyes.

“He wants in your pants,” I bite out before I can stop myself.

“Reed!”

“Sorry.” I’m not sorry at all. I’m pretty sure she can gather that from the tone of my voice. “You can’t deny he wants you, though. I saw it and I barely met the man.”