I didn’t lack for female company. It had been a year or two since I’d last had an official girlfriend, but I’d never had trouble finding attractive women to date. Not a single one of them would’ve been caught dead in clothes as plain as Callie’s—and yet not a single one of them had been as lovely as her. If she looked that good in a button-down shirt and jeans, what would she look like dressed up?
It was an intriguing thought, and one that I kept me occupied as I gathered up my things. And as I swung my coat over my shoulders, it occurred to me that there was another major difference between the women I’d dated in the past and Callie—none of them would have hesitated to keep those earrings. Yet somehow, she had. Even though it might mean hurting her boy, and it was clear she was crazy about him, she’d brought them back here because she thought it was the right thing to do.
That showed a lot of character. I grinned as I added it to the growing list of things I admired about the young mother—at least until I reached out to turn off the little silver lamp on the edge of my desk. A dark shape rested against the base of the lamp—something I hadn’t been able to see from my chair.
It was the jewelry box.
Son of a bitch.
4
Callie
Six days before Christmas
“How much longer until the first batch is done?” Parker wanted to know.
I grinned. “There’s just no way of knowing.” My wonderful son smiled sheepishly back. He could see the countdown timer as clearly as I could—he was just eager for cookies.
It was just after noon, and we’d spent the whole morning making more ornaments and mixing cookie dough. So now instead of just being covered in glitter, I also had flour all over my navy-blue sweatshirt and dark leggings.
Still, it was amazing to have an entire day off from both jobs. That had only happened one time since Thanksgiving. With the scent of cookies in my nose and Christmas music in my ears, it was shaping up to be a really fun day.
We nibbled on the first batch of cookies while we placed the sprinkles and candy dots on the second batch. “You’re getting really good with the cookie press,” I told Parker. “You can tell that all of these are trees.”
“Except that one.” He pointed to a blob on the corner of the tray.
“That’s okay.” I placed five red candy dots around the edges. “Now it’s a wreath.”
“Cool, can we do wreaths next?” With fingers stained green from food coloring, he rifled through a small bag until he found the plate that would make the shape he wanted.
“Sure. And when we’re done with this dough, let’s dye the next part yellow and make stars.”
“Sounds good.” Parker spoke with his mouth full.
“Don’t eat too many, we have to send some to your teacher and to Hugh and Kaleb.” I deliberately omitted Jane from the list. I was still furious at her for letting Parker run off. When a child disappeared in the big city, you were supposed to call the police, not hang out drinking coffee and hope he shows up. I wished I had other options for after-school care, but I just didn’t. Therefore, I couldn’t afford to tell her how I really felt because with Parker’s winter break starting in a few days, I needed her to babysit more than ever. And it would cost more, too. That thought was unpleasant enough to justify gobbling down another Christmas tree cookie.
I’d just put the second batch in the oven when we heard a knock at the door. I turned down the music and exchanged a puzzled glance with Parker. “Did you tell Hugh and Kaleb we were making cookies today?”
“No. Can I get it?”
Wiping my hands on a towel, I shook my head. “I will.” My thick socks cushioned my feet as I padded to the door and looked out the peephole—and then had to press my hand against the doorframe for support.
Mason Ross was standing in the hallway.
“Who is it, Mom?”
My brain raced as I tried to reconcile what I was seeing. The rich, powerful, drop-dead gorgeous man I’d met yesterday was standing just on the other side of the door. I half felt like rubbing my eyes and then looking again, just to make sure. But one glance had been enough. There was no mistaking that thick black hair or those intense eyes the color of melted caramel. Hell, I couldn’t resist standing on my toes to take another peek. He still had dark, sexy stubble lining his strong jaw. Was it always like that or did he sometimes shave it off?
Parker tugged on the edge of my shirt and I jumped. “Who’s out there?”
“I’m—I’m not sure. I think it’s someone who’s lost.”
A faint chuckle drifted through the door followed by a rich voice. “No, it’s not.”
Crap. He’d heard me. What was he doing here? As far as I was concerned, I’d said my piece and that was that—even if he did end up tossing those beautiful earrings to some poor, unsuspecting fish. I looked out again. He was still standing there, looking as if he were prepared to do so all day.
But just because he showed up didn’t mean I had to let him in, right? Single women had to be careful. Then I shook my head, almost rolling my eyes at myself. I’d spent twenty minutes yesterday alone with him in his office. He was stubborn and arrogant, not threatening.
I turned to Parker. “I’m going to step out in the hallway for a minute. Stay here and listen for the timer to go off, okay?”
“Okay.”
Reaching up, I smoothed my hair back and tucked it behind my ears. It was a nervous gesture that probably didn’t do much good considering I’d just had my hands in cookie dough. Resigned, I undid the chain and the deadbolt and then tugged on the heavy door. As always during winter, the wood had expanded and it was hard to yank open. By the time I did, it opened wide enough for Parker to duck under my arm.
“Hey, it’s you!” I tried to hold him back, but my son was already in the hallway, beaming up at Mason. “Did your mom like the gift you got her?”
Mason returned Parker’s smile. “I haven’t given it to her yet.”
“Did you make a card? You’ve gotta make a card. Or I guess you could buy one.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Perhaps it was a good thing that Parker had ignored my instructions to stay back, because looking up at the man in front of me had rendered me temporarily mute. Yesterday, I’d been on a mission to find out the truth about the earrings. Today, it was almost like seeing him for the first time. I hadn’t remembered that he was this tall. Or that he looked this damn good. He wore a dark coat over a crimson sweater with the collar of a white dress shirt peeking out the top. His pants were dark and fit his muscular thighs. Probably any single article of his clothing cost more than all the clothes in my closet combined.
“We never introduced ourselves, but I’m Mason.”
“I’m Parker.”
I opened my mouth to tell him to call him Mr. Ross, but they’d already moved on.
“Great to meet you, Parker. What smells so good?”
“We’re making cookies. Come try one.”
Before I could protest, Parker was leading Mason into the apartment. Wordlessly, I stepped back, trying to get my brain to function again. Mason followed Parker into the kitchen, leaving me to wedge the door shut. Then I followed the sound of voices, one high, one low.