Her first reaction was a rush of heat. Odd, as she hadn’t had one of those in relation to a man in a while—but not completely surprising as Tanner was hotter than sin. An ice cube would’ve had a reaction to him.
Self-awareness hit her, and reality. She looked down at herself. Yep, still wearing capri yoga pants and fake Uggs. Perfect. She was dressed like she didn’t own a mirror. Even worse, she wore no makeup and her hair…well, mostly the long strawberry blond waves had a serious mind of their own. The best that could be said this morning was that she’d piled them up on top of her head and they’d stayed. Thank God the messy topknot was in this year.
Not that this knowledge helped, because when a woman faced her first crush, that woman wanted to look hot—not like a hot mess.
“Is this chair taken?” Tanner asked.
Callie promptly swallowed wrong. Sugar went down the wrong pipe and closed off her air passage. When had he left the line and moved to her side? And damn it, why couldn’t she breathe? Hiding this fact, she desperately went for a cool, unaffected look—difficult to pull off while suffocating.
His dark eyes were warm and filled with amusement. “Yes?” he asked. “No chance in hell?”
That’s when she realized there was something worse than asphyxiation in public—he didn’t recognize her.
Damn. In a single heartbeat, she was reduced to that shy, quiet, socially inept girl she’d once been. Talk, she ordered herself. Say something. But when she opened her mouth, the only thing that came out was a squeak.
And a puff of powdered sugar.
“It’s okay,” he said, and started to turn away.
This surprised her. The cocky, wild-man teenager she’d once known would’ve sent her a lazy smile and talked her into whatever he needed.
But it’d been more than ten years, and she supposed people changed. She’d certainly changed. For one thing, she was no longer that quiet, studious dork with the foolishly romantic heart. Nope, now she was a suave, immaculately dressed professional…She kept her legs hidden and decided this could be a good thing. His not recognizing her meant that she could make a new first impression. She didn’t have to be a nerd. She could be whatever she wanted. Or more correctly, whatever she could manage to pull off. “Wait!” she called out to him. Maybe a little too loudly.
Or a lot too loudly.
Half the bakery startled and stared at her. And then in the next beat, everyone seemed to find their manners and scurried to look busy. Lowering her voice, Callie gestured to the free chair. “Sit,” she told Tanner. “It’s all yours.”
He kicked the chair out for himself and sprawled into it. Sipping his coffee, he eyed her over the steam rising out of his cup, all cool, easy, masculine grace.
She tried to look half as cool, but she wasn’t. Not even close. And she had a problem. A twofold problem.
One, the table was tiny. Or maybe it was just that Tanner’s legs were long, but no matter how she shifted, she kept bumping into a warm, powerful thigh beneath the table.
And two, his eyes. They were the color of rich dark melted chocolate.
God, she loved dark melted chocolate.
But he had no recollection of her. A definite blow to her already fragile, powder-sugar-coated self-esteem. She wished she didn’t care.
But it was the damn high school crush.
How did one get over a crush, anyway? Surely the statute of limitations was up by now. After all, he’d devastated her and hadn’t even noticed.
To be fair, he’d had other things on his mind back then. She’d been a quiet, odd freshman, and he’d been a senior and the town’s football star. She’d loved him from afar until he’d graduated and left town. She knew his story was far more complicated than that, but her poor romantic heart had remained devastated by his absence for nearly two years. Then, during her last year of high school, Eric had moved in across the street. He and Callie had become a thing. They’d stuck, and by their last year of college, she’d had their wedding completely planned—and she did mean completely, from the exact color of the bridesmaids’ dresses, to the secluded beach where they’d say their vows, to the doves that would be released after they did…
Yeah, there was a reason she understood her client brides as well as she did. She’d once been a batshit-crazy bride too. But she’d honestly believed that Eric would be the perfect groom and the perfect husband. After all, he’d spent years making her happy.
Until the moment he stood her up at the altar.
“You okay?” Tanner asked.
“Sure.” Just lost in the past. But she was done with the past and took a bite to prove just how okay she really was. Bad move. Turns out it’s hard to swallow correctly once you’ve already choked. She then promptly compounded her error by gulping down some hot coffee on top of the sore throat and lump of doughnut that wouldn’t go down, and she commenced nearly coughing up a lung.
She felt the doughnut being removed from her hand and then the coffee. Tanner had stood up and was at her side, patting her back as she coughed.
And coughed.
Yep, she was going to die right here, in yoga capris and fake Uggs.
“Hang on,” Tanner said, and strode to the front counter of the bakery.
From the dim recesses of her mind, she saw that he didn’t bother with the line, just spoke directly to Leah behind the counter, who quickly handed him a cup of water.
Then he was back, pushing it into Callie’s hands.
Nice and mortified, she took a sip of water, wiped her nose and streaming eyes with a napkin, and finally sat back. “I’m okay.”
Tanner eyed her for a long moment, as if making sure she wasn’t about to stroke out on him, before finally dropping back in his chair.
She opened her mouth but he shook his head. “Don’t try to talk,” he said. “Every time you do, you nearly die.”
“But—”
He raised an eyebrow and pointed at her, and she obediently shut her mouth. And sighed. She wanted to ask him about his limp, but he was right; she probably couldn’t manage talking without choking again.
Way to wow him with a new first impression.
A woman came into the bakery, eyed Tanner with interest and intent, and unbelievably he leaned in closer to Callie, as if they were in the midst of the most fascinating of conversations.
“You settling into town okay at your new place?” he asked.
“My new place?”
“I see you watching me from your window.”
Damn if she didn’t choke again.
Seriously? She lifted a hand when he started to rise out of his chair, chased down the crumbs stuck in her throat with some more water, and signaled she was okay. “Sorry, rough morning.”
“Let’s go back to the not-talking thing,” he said.
Yeah, she thought. Good idea.
A few minutes went by, during which Callie was incredibly aware of his leg still casually brushing hers. And also a new panic. Because now she realized she was trapped, forced to wait until he left first so that he wouldn’t catch sight of her wardrobe.
But he looked pretty damn comfortable and didn’t appear to be in a rush to go anywhere.
She drew out her coffee as long as she dared and eyed her second doughnut. She wanted it more than she wanted her next breath, but she didn’t trust herself. And what did he mean, he’d seen her watching him? She didn’t watch him. At least not all the time. “I don’t watch you,” she said.
He slid her a look.
“I don’t. I can’t even see you from my window.” She waited a beat to be struck by lightning for the lie. “I watch the water,” she clarified. “It calms me.”
“Whatever you say.” He looked amused as he drank the last of his coffee. “So if I get up and go, are you going to choke again?”
Funny. “I think it’s safe now,” she said stiffly. “And anyway, I’m going to be good and give up doughnuts.” Forever.
Or until he left.
“Good l
uck with that,” he said, still amused, damn him. “But as you already know now, Leah’s stuff is addictive.” He cast his gaze around the room, watchful. He caught sight of the perky brunette hovering near the door. “Can I walk you out?” he asked.
Absolutely not. If he was afraid of the perky brunette, he was on his own. No way was Callie going to reveal her bottom half. With what she hoped was a polite, disinterested smile, she shook her head. She wasn’t moving again until he was gone, baby, gone.
Just then, the little toddler at the table behind her dropped his pacifier. It rolled beneath her boots.
He began to wail.
Pushing her chair back, Callie picked it up and handed it to the mom with a smile before realizing she’d moved out enough for her body to be seen. With a mental grimace, she quickly scooted close to her table again and stole a glance at Tanner.
He was smiling. “Cute,” he said.
She blew out a breath. “I was in a hurry.”
“No, I mean it,” he said. “Cute.”
Cute? Puppies and rainbows were cute. Once upon a time she’d spent far too much time dreaming about him finding her so irresistibly sexy that he’d press her up against the wall and kiss her senseless.
And he found her cute.
“Maybe you should steer clear of the dangerous powdered sugar doughnuts next time,” he said. “In case there’s no one around to rescue you.”
“I like to live dangerously,” she said, and because this was such a ridiculous statement, not to mention wildly untrue—she lived the opposite of dangerous and always had—she laughed a little.
He smiled at her, and it was such a great smile it rendered her stupid and unable to control her mouth. “You don’t remember me.”
“Sure I do,” he said, and pushed away from the table as he stood. His gaze met hers. “Seriously now. Be careful.”
And then he headed to the door.
Nope. He really didn’t remember her. Still, she watched him go.
Okay, so she watched his fantastic butt go. After all, she was mortified and maybe a little bit pissy to boot, but she wasn’t dead.
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