temperature change didn’t stop there. The feeling settled deeper, curling low in her stomach and spreading between her legs. Good Lord. Yesterday’s dressing-room incident had clearly left an indelible impression.
They stepped into the restaurant filled with wooden tables and chairs and a few customers. As usual, Aunt Billie sensed her arrival before Callie had taken ten steps inside.
Her aunt appeared from the doorway leading into the kitchen. “Callie, hon. It’s been way too long.” She enveloped her in a hug before gripping Callie’s arms and pulling back to give her the once-over.
Billie LaBeau loved to cook, loved to eat and she had the well-padded frame of one who did. But her generous nature dwarfed everything else in comparison. Despite the distance in the lineage, Aunt Billie took her Creole roots to heart. More important, she’d been the only relative to accept Callie’s choices, without treating her life as if she’d settled for a seriously lower second best.
Not once had she looked at Callie with disappointment or thrown out little asides that alluded to how much Callie had screwed up. And while she constantly harped at Callie to visit more often, there was never any judgment in her tone.
“This is Matt Paulson,” Callie said.
“’Bout time you brought a man around here again.” Billie shot her a grin. “Haven’t done so since Colin. And you were eighteen years old then.”
The implied ten years ago went unsaid and Callie fought the urge to close her eyes. Perhaps Matt’s presence wouldn’t be quite the protection that she’d hoped.
“Matt is a client, ” Callie said.
Hopefully the emphasis on the word would clear up any misconceptions. Aunt Billie’s only response was a raised eyebrow at Matt’s hand on Callie’s back, sending heat shooting up Callie’s neck and flaring across her cheeks. Who needed to say anything with a facial expression like her aunt’s? Matt was studying Callie, clearly amused by the conversation and the nonverbal communication.
“Welcome, Matt,” Aunt Billie said. “I hope you brought your appetite.”
“I never leave home without it.”
Aunt Billie let out an amused snort. “That’s good to hear. And Callie?” Aunt Billie returned her focus to Callie. “The family reunion is in two weeks. It’s not too late to change your mind and attend.”
Crap, the reunion. She’d forgotten about the annual event that she had no intention of attending, ever. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than all the family members—those who’d been so proud she’d been accepted to Wimbly—talking about her behind her back. Mentioning her mistake again to her face. Callie had lost count of how many times she’d been told how lucky she was to be afforded the opportunity.
Many of whom now never missed an opportunity to remind her of how much she’d lost when she’d mucked it all up.
Her aunt propped a hand on her ample hip. “I’d love to have all of my family back in the same place again.”
“Maybe,” Callie said vaguely. “My schedule is pretty busy. I’ll have to check the dates.”
The look her aunt sent made her message clear. She didn’t believe Callie would show up, and Billie sure as heck wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to hound her more. Her suspicions about her aunt’s recent call to sort through her stuff from the dock house suddenly didn’t seem so paranoid. Billie hadn’t suddenly been bitten by a late-summer spring-cleaning urge to clean out an old building that seldom got used anymore. She’d planned on slowly eroding away Callie’s excuses.
But the thought of all her relatives looking at her as if she’d failed...
Damn it.
“Well, check them dates and try a little harder to squeeze your family into that busy schedule of yours, ya’ hear?” Billie said.
“Work has been busy.”
“All the more reason you need to come back for a visit,” Billie said. “Let your people know how you’re doing.”
Callie murmured
They stepped into the restaurant filled with wooden tables and chairs and a few customers. As usual, Aunt Billie sensed her arrival before Callie had taken ten steps inside.
Her aunt appeared from the doorway leading into the kitchen. “Callie, hon. It’s been way too long.” She enveloped her in a hug before gripping Callie’s arms and pulling back to give her the once-over.
Billie LaBeau loved to cook, loved to eat and she had the well-padded frame of one who did. But her generous nature dwarfed everything else in comparison. Despite the distance in the lineage, Aunt Billie took her Creole roots to heart. More important, she’d been the only relative to accept Callie’s choices, without treating her life as if she’d settled for a seriously lower second best.
Not once had she looked at Callie with disappointment or thrown out little asides that alluded to how much Callie had screwed up. And while she constantly harped at Callie to visit more often, there was never any judgment in her tone.
“This is Matt Paulson,” Callie said.
“’Bout time you brought a man around here again.” Billie shot her a grin. “Haven’t done so since Colin. And you were eighteen years old then.”
The implied ten years ago went unsaid and Callie fought the urge to close her eyes. Perhaps Matt’s presence wouldn’t be quite the protection that she’d hoped.
“Matt is a client, ” Callie said.
Hopefully the emphasis on the word would clear up any misconceptions. Aunt Billie’s only response was a raised eyebrow at Matt’s hand on Callie’s back, sending heat shooting up Callie’s neck and flaring across her cheeks. Who needed to say anything with a facial expression like her aunt’s? Matt was studying Callie, clearly amused by the conversation and the nonverbal communication.
“Welcome, Matt,” Aunt Billie said. “I hope you brought your appetite.”
“I never leave home without it.”
Aunt Billie let out an amused snort. “That’s good to hear. And Callie?” Aunt Billie returned her focus to Callie. “The family reunion is in two weeks. It’s not too late to change your mind and attend.”
Crap, the reunion. She’d forgotten about the annual event that she had no intention of attending, ever. She couldn’t imagine anything worse than all the family members—those who’d been so proud she’d been accepted to Wimbly—talking about her behind her back. Mentioning her mistake again to her face. Callie had lost count of how many times she’d been told how lucky she was to be afforded the opportunity.
Many of whom now never missed an opportunity to remind her of how much she’d lost when she’d mucked it all up.
Her aunt propped a hand on her ample hip. “I’d love to have all of my family back in the same place again.”
“Maybe,” Callie said vaguely. “My schedule is pretty busy. I’ll have to check the dates.”
The look her aunt sent made her message clear. She didn’t believe Callie would show up, and Billie sure as heck wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to hound her more. Her suspicions about her aunt’s recent call to sort through her stuff from the dock house suddenly didn’t seem so paranoid. Billie hadn’t suddenly been bitten by a late-summer spring-cleaning urge to clean out an old building that seldom got used anymore. She’d planned on slowly eroding away Callie’s excuses.
But the thought of all her relatives looking at her as if she’d failed...
Damn it.
“Well, check them dates and try a little harder to squeeze your family into that busy schedule of yours, ya’ hear?” Billie said.
“Work has been busy.”
“All the more reason you need to come back for a visit,” Billie said. “Let your people know how you’re doing.”
Callie murmured
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