er go. The conversation quickly returned to some upcoming campaign stops Warren was making that month. With only a few months remaining until the election, this would most likely be his last time off until November.
During the meal, Callie ate in silence, perfectly happy to listen to the conversation around her. She wasn’t big into politics. She followed it enough in the news to know the basics of what was going on and to make an informed decision at the polls, but aside from that, it held little interest to her. Yet she did find this insider’s view into the campaign fascinating.
“Dylan wants to know if we want to have dinner next week when we are in Connecticut,” Elizabeth said, changing the topic.
The saltshaker in Callie’s hand slipped through her fingers, crashing into the center of her plate. Three sets of eyes turned on her.
“Sorry, it slipped,” Callie muttered, looking down at her plate.
Next to her, Jake started a new conversation with his father, but Callie still felt someone’s eyes on her. Looking up, she meet Elizabeth’s steely gray stare. Her eyes were the exact same shade as Dylan’s.
Hell, she knows. She knows everything. Callie couldn’t explain it. Yet, she was positive Elizabeth Sherbrooke knew everything from Dylan’s agreement with Phillips to the fact that she and Dylan had slept together.
Great. Just great. This weekend is going downhill fast.
***
When Callie entered the kennel early the next morning, Lucky immediately jumped off the couch and bolted straight to her. “Hey there, buddy.” Picking up the dog, she gave him a quick squeeze. “How about a game of fetch?”
Grabbing a bright yellow tennis ball from a basket of toys, she pushed open the door. The air outside was warm, already close to seventy degrees even though it was barely eight thirty. In the distance, she heard the waves crashing on the shore. For a moment, she closed her eyes, simply absorbing the atmosphere. It was so tranquil and relaxing.
“You’re up and about early.”
Opening her eyes, she saw Jake coming toward her. Wearing a pair of shorts and a sweat-soaked t-shirt, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to guess he’d been running.
“I wouldn’t call this early. I’m usually at work by now,” she responded, tossing the tennis ball. Lucky took off like a shot in hot pursuit.
Jake stopped next to her. “Nice arm,” he commented, sounding impressed. “Dylan mentioned you played softball in college.”
Callie picked up the ball Lucky dropped at her feet and pretended to examine it closely. She was surprised Dylan had mentioned her to anyone, let alone told them she’d played softball. It wasn’t as if they’d had a real relationship.
How much did Jake know? She didn’t think anyone other than Marty Phillips, Dylan, and Elizabeth knew about his little agreement. That didn’t mean Jake didn’t know they’d been intimate. Somehow Sara knew, or at least suspected.
Throwing the ball again, she finally answered, “Mostly center field, but sometimes I would play right too.”
Jake dropped down to the ground, stretched his long legs out in front of him, and leaned back on his elbows.
It looked like he’d planned on staying for a while. Preferring to let him continue the conversation, she once again picked up the ball Lucky dropped at her feet.
“I never played baseball,” he admitted, picking at the blades of grass. “Basketball and soccer were my games. And, as you can imagine, Sara’s not exactly into team sports.”
No big surprise there. She couldn’t imagine Sara intentionally getting sweaty unless it involved sitting in a steam room wrapped in a big white fluffy towel.
Not waiting for a reply, Jake continued his family history lesson. “Dylan was big into cricket and rugby, although he did play a little basketball too. He probably would’ve played football if his school in England had a team.”
She could picture Dylan as the star quarterback, the football player who had all the girls falling at his feet.
Chucking the tennis ball even harder this time, she tried to keep her emotions from bubbling over. So much for the peace she’d been feeling a few minutes ago. Yet she couldn’t blame Jake. He had no way of knowing that talking about Dylan would upset her. He was just making conversation.
This time when Lucky dropped the ball, Jake reached for it before Callie could. “I know you two were seeing each other,” he said, his voice gentle.
Okay, so much for just making conversation. “It was nothing.” She hated how her voice cracked with emotion. Nothing to him at least. To her, it had been so much more. God, she didn’t want to talk about this.
Jake looked up at her, an eyebrow cocked. “I’ve seen the pictures. It was more than nothing.”
For a split second, she wished Jake was more like his sister Sara. Then, they would never be having this little heart to heart.
Dropping down to the ground, she sighed loudly before realizing it. “You can’t always believe what you see.”