“Old Man?” I glare at my daughter. I’m not the least bit angry, just perturbed that she’d call me that in front of Cali, no less. “And he’s not interested in women nearly half his age,” I say, pinning Cali with my stare.
“I’m twenty-nine,” she says, like that somehow makes it better.
“Dad,” Julianna interrupts us yet again. “Can Izzie spend the night?”
“Izzie needs to ask her parents, but it’s fine with me.” I’m glad to see Julianna spend time with a friend outside school.
Julianna and Izzie head toward the elevator. They’re not done exploring the lodge or may not want to be around any parents. I’m okay with that as well. I like the thought of having Cali alone, to myself.
Once the girls are gone, it’s just Cali and me, alone.
“I was joking earlier about liking Dr. Reynolds,” she says.
I’m unsure why she feels it necessary to explain herself, but I let her ramble on because it’s endearing to listen to her speak.
“Were you?”
“He is easy on the eyes, but he’s not my type.” She lets that thought linger a little too long.
“What is your type?” I ask. I shouldn’t. I should open up a bottle of water, not another bottle of red. I’m pouring us each a glass while I mix the ingredients to make brownies.
Cali is right beside me, her back against the counter. I’m not sure if it’s holding her up or if she’s steady on her feet. Either way, at least she won’t be driving anywhere tonight.
It’s a dangerous game, flirting with a girl bound to break my heart. The woman I loved had destroyed me. Why wouldn’t a woman whom I barely know?
“Tall, dark, handsome.” She smirks, glancing me up and down. “A man who knows what he wants, is kind and considerate and isn’t afraid to speak his mind. Even if it means a disagreement.”
I stew on her words. I’m not sure I fit into the ‘kind and considerate’ category, but the rest is easily me.
“What about you?” Cali asks. “What’s your type?”
I turn the oven on and wait for it to preheat.
“My type?” I ask, and fold my arms across my chest, my back against the counter as I mull over her words. “A woman who doesn’t cheat. That’s honest, even if it’s brutally painful to hear.”
I don’t have much else on the list right now. Jess had met all my mental boxes on the imaginary checklist for girlfriend and eventually wife. But it didn’t matter, because she managed to screw me over, but not before screwing that numb-nuts.
“I’m sorry she hurt you,” Cali says, her voice soft, and she sounds genuine and sincere.
“Yeah, I don’t want to talk about it.” I down the glass of red and pour another, filling the glass. It doesn’t matter if I get tipsy or fully drunk. This is my house and my lodge. I can do whatever the hell I damn well please.
“Understood.” Cali rests a hand on my arm.
Her touch is warm and comforting and radiates a tingle of heat throughout my body. She stirs a flame that I thought was dead inside of me and could never be rekindled.
She steps closer, closing the distance, and her hand rests on my arm, the other on my chest. Cali leans on her tiptoes.
I know what’s coming, and I don’t stop her.
She kisses me, her breath soft and warm. Her lips are smooth and sweet. She tastes like fresh cherries.
I open my mouth to deepen the kiss, but my brain keeps replaying the horrible things that Jess did to me, and I pull away.
“You should go,” I say.
“But we haven’t had dessert yet.”
I turn off the oven, making it apparent that dinner is done. There will be no dessert. She ruined it by crossing the line and kissing me.