One in a Million - Page 22/82

“She has reasons for her ways,” she said in quick defense. Apparently Callie could be irritated by her grandmother, but no one else—especially an ex—was allowed.

And speaking of her ex, he had the nerve to look pretty damn fantastic.

He also had a hand on the small of Tina’s back. A casual, affectionate gesture that insinuated intimacy and ease. Except he’d never been into PDA before, and certainly not with Callie.

And suddenly she didn’t want a doughnut.

No. She wanted an entire baker’s dozen.

Tanner had watched with some amusement as Callie had bolted into the bakery, plastered herself to the wall, and stared out the window as if the hounds of hell had been on her heels.

When she’d relaxed and gotten in line, he’d still been watching. So he’d had eyes on her when the couple had gotten in line behind her.

Ah, he thought, watching as he drank his coffee. Stiff posture. Fake smile. Quick hand over the hair.

Either an archenemy or an ex, he guessed. And since this was real life and not a comic book, he crossed archenemy off the list. An ex then. The guy had his arm around the blond woman next to him and Tanner winced in sympathy for a pale-faced Callie. Her lips were curved but she wasn’t showing any teeth, and she also looked like she’d just swallowed something really sour.

That, or the ex was stinky.

Then the woman said something and the ex leaned in close to catch every word before tossing his head back and laughing.

Callie looked like she wished she had powers and could vanish.

Or maybe she was plotting the man’s murder.

She said something and started to leave the line without coffee or a doughnut, which told Tanner more than anything else how off axis she was, but it was her turn at the front of the line and Leah called out to her.

Callie stared blankly at Leah as if she couldn’t remember why she was there.

Leah’s smile faded a little bit and she reached over the counter to squeeze Callie’s hand. Then she quickly brought her a coffee and a box of doughnuts.

A box.

Tanner had to smile. Leah was good people. Really good.

Arms loaded, Callie turned to go but the guy reached out and stopped her with a hand on her arm.

Why didn’t the asshole back off? It was pretty obvious to Tanner that’s what Callie wanted, so why wasn’t he getting out of her face?

Instead, the guy said something to her, smiled, and then leaned in even closer, looking like he planned on kissing her cheek.

Callie instantly recoiled, her body language screaming “go away.” Jesus. How was the asshole missing the fact that she didn’t want him to touch her, much less kiss her?

Then it went fubar.

As Callie pulled back, she tripped over the blonde’s foot and stumbled. Her coffee went flying one way, her box of doughnuts the other way. Luckily neither hit anyone, just the floor, but the mess was pretty spectacular.

People scattered, including the ex and the blonde. They walked out together arm in arm, holding their coffees, not paying much attention to the carnage they’d left behind.

Shit. Tanner rose and moved toward Callie, who was now attempting to clean up.

“Don’t,” she said when he crouched at her side to help.

He took the box from her and scooped up the last of the mess.

“Tanner—”

“Shh,” he said. He took the entire mess to the trash. When he got back to Callie, she was standing right where he’d left her. She had crumbs down her front along with a few splatters of coffee.

“Did you burn yourself?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“Sure?”

She stopped shaking her head to nod it.

“Come on,” he said. “I’ll get you another breakfast.”

This seemed to snap her out of it. “No,” she said. “Thanks, though. I think I’m just going to go back to bed and start the day over another time. Like maybe next year.”

He smiled and ducked down a little to look into her pretty green eyes. “You’re not that person,” he said softly, taking her hand. “You don’t bury your head in the sand.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” she said with a humorless laugh. “I can bury my head with the best of them.” She pulled free, but she did it slowly, almost reluctantly, not jerking away as she had with that other guy. “And you do remember me from high school.” She said this in an accusatory voice that told him she’d been steaming about that since he’d last seen her.

“Of course,” he said.

“Of course.” She snorted.

“That’s funny?” he asked

“No one remembers me from high school. I was the nerd, the bookworm.”

“I remember you,” he said firmly.

“Yeah, probably because some of your fellow football players paid me to do their homework.”

“Yeah, they did,” he said. “Because you were cute.”

She blinked as if he’d stunned her speechless and he smiled. “But you were off limits to me.”

“Why?”

“For one thing, you were way too good for the likes of me,” he said, and had the pleasure of seeing her quick smile.

She had a really great smile when it included her eyes. “So who was he?” he heard himself ask.

“Who?”

He gave her a get-real look.

“Oh, you mean that guy who was just here?” she asked.

“No, I mean the Easter Bunny.”