A Dog and a Diamond (7 page)

“Okay?” he asked.

“Okay.” She nodded. “It's the least I can do for you after everything you've done for me. But I'll only come if I can bring Muffin. I'm never letting him out of my sight again.”

An unbearable urge to kiss her came over him, but he shoved his hands in his pockets instead. “I'm sure that would be fine. We McKinnels love animals, especially dogs.”

“Right. Good then.” She met his gaze and then quickly looked away.

“Yep. Good.” He should make a move but his legs didn't seem to get the message. “I'll pick you up about noon on Thursday, then?”

She nodded. “Can I bring anything?”

He shook his head. “Just yourself. And Muffin of course. Between Mom and my brother Lachlan, we'll have enough food to feed an army anyway.”

She smiled and then they stared at each other a little longer. Until it started to get embarrassing. Until he told his legs if they didn't start walking, he'd chop them off. “Okay. Thursday then.”

“Thursday,” she repeated.

And, before he did something really pathetic, like lean forward and kiss her, he turned and jogged back to his car.

Chapter Six

A
s Chelsea waited for Callum to pick her up, she nervously paced the length of the front porch with Muffin chasing at her heels, thinking this was some kind of new game. Perhaps he was right, because she had no idea why she'd agreed to go to the McKinnels' Thanksgiving lunch. It was like she'd rolled a dice and it had told her to go, so she'd said “sure, why not?”

But now she was harboring serious second thoughts.

She should have bought him a box of chocolates as a way of saying thanks for finding her dog. Problem was, Muffin was worth way more than a few sweets. It would have to be a very big box to come close to showing her gratitude, and anyway, there was no way she'd have been able to say anything but yes when Callum McKinnel hit her with
that
smile. It was lethal. Especially set in that sexy, short beard thing he had going on. Chelsea hadn't thought herself a fan of beards, but simply thinking about his had all the organs in her body doing gymnastics.

With a sigh, she sank her teeth into her lower lip and stopped pacing. No point in getting all hot and bothered. What was done was done. This was nothing but a fake date and it would pay for her to remember that. Callum had made that 100 percent clear when he'd asked her. And because of Muffin, she'd felt obliged to help out.

Yes, right, you keep telling yourself that's the reason, Chelsea.

A horn sounded and she turned to see a black SUV pulling into her driveway.
Callum's SUV.
Seconds later he jumped down from the driver's side and Muffin flew off the porch and galloped toward him. Chelsea's stomach did a final tumble turn as she forced her hand up to wave. He grinned and waved back as he opened his arms to receive her dog. Stupid, but her throat clogged with emotion as Callum let Muffin slobber all over him, and then, she snapped out of her silliness.

“Muffin! Leave Callum alone,” she called as she grabbed her purse and the bouquet of flowers she'd bought for his mother off the porch chair.

“It's fine. We're old friends.” He looked over the top of Muffin's head as she approached them and met her gaze head-on. “Isn't this how you greet all your old friends?”

She couldn't help but grin. He had a way of making her feel comfortable and skittish all at the same time. “Thanks for picking me up. Sorry for putting you out. I don't know why I didn't offer to drive myself.” Something she'd been wondering all morning, but she'd been so flummoxed by the idea of a date with him—albeit a fake one—when he'd asked, that she hadn't been thinking straight.

“Nonsense.” He stood up and Muffin made a tiny pining sound. “That would have made Mom suspicious. A gentleman
always
picks up his date. You look lovely by the way.”

She swallowed and her skin slowly caught on fire as he gave a subtle glance up and down her body. “Thanks.”

“That color suits you.” He was of course referring to the red, which was the predominant color on the dress she'd spent all morning umming and ahhing over. A dress not really practical for the cool November weather but which she'd paired with some leggings and boots to make it more so. The look on his face made any temperature discomfort worth it. She just hoped she wasn't overdressed. Or underdressed. She'd totally forgotten to ask him the dress code for his family lunch.

“Thanks,” she said, resisting the urge to pull her winter coat tightly around her. She liked the way he looked at her but it also terrified her. Callum was wearing smart, navy blue jeans and a marled gray crew-neck sweater with the collar of a flannel shirt peeking out the top—a unique combination of smart and casual, with a massive dose of sexiness to boot.

He strode around and opened the passenger side door for her but Muffin jumped up first. They both laughed.

“He's been a little clingy since he came home,” she explained. “I think he's scared we might go without him.”

“Never,” Callum said as Muffin jumped over onto the driver's seat. “In the back, buddy.” He tried to encourage the dog to do as he asked, but Muffin refused to budge.

“Maybe we can put these flowers in the back and he can sit with me in the front?” Chelsea suggested. She'd be squashed, her dress and coat would end up covered in golden fur but...anything for Muffin.

“Let's give it a shot.” Callum grinned as he took the flowers from her. “Are these for me? You shouldn't have.”

“I didn't. They're for your mom, to say thanks for having me to lunch.”

“Good move.” He winked. “She'll like you.” Then, he opened the back door and laid them carefully on the seat.

A few minutes later the three of them were settled in the front of the car—Chelsea in the passenger seat, Callum in the driver's seat and Muffin happily perched on his lap. She'd protested and tried to encourage the dog onto hers, but Callum had insisted it was fine.

“We drove like this all the way back from the shelter the other day,” he told her.

She gave in and they started their journey toward Jewell Rock, which was if anything even more beautiful than the picturesque town of Bend.

“Have the police found out anything about your burglary?” he asked.

“No. They followed up on a few names I gave them, but as we suspected, they're pretty certain it's just kids fooling around.”

“Little shits.” Callum shook his head and Chelsea found her eyes lingering on the way his hands caressed the steering wheel. To try to distract herself from this sight and also in an attempt to alleviate some of her nerves about attending a big family Thanksgiving, she tried to make useful conversation. “So, can you give me a quick 101 on your family?”

He glanced at her with those big soulful sea-green eyes. “101?”

“You know, a quick course in everything I need to know.”

“Ah.” His smile widened and she wasn't sure it was because of what she'd said or thinking about his family. “Okay. Well, I'm the oldest—but you already know me.”

Not as well as she wanted to, but she pushed that thought aside because this was a fake date and everything.

He continued. “Next is Lachlan. He's divorced but has two kids. Hallie lives with her mother in California and Hamish lives with Lachlan and my mom.”

Chelsea frowned. “They took a child each in the split?”

“It's complicated. Hamish has cerebral palsy and his mom couldn't handle that he wasn't perfect. It put a great strain on the marriage and when they split, she only wanted to take Hallie with her.”

“That's awful.” Her eyes watered as she spoke, her heart aching for that poor little boy. She knew all too well how it felt not to be wanted, especially by a mom who should love you unconditionally.

“Yeah, I know. It turns out not all moms have that maternal love-your-child-no-matter-what thing built in.”

“No, they don't.” Chelsea hoped he didn't hear the bitterness in her tone. “Lachlan sounds like a good guy though.”

“He is. The best...and an amazing chef too. You haven't eaten until you've tasted one of his creations.” Callum cleared his throat. “Then there's Blair—he's our head distiller and makes whiskey almost as good as our dad did. Then again, he did learn from the best.”

“Is Blair married?”

“Divorced,” Callum said. “Only his split was much more amicable. And no kids involved, which I guess helps.”

“Hmm.”

“What about you?” he asked. “Do you have many siblings?”

“Nope. None.” Although she'd always wished differently. Watching endless episodes of
The Brady Bunch
when she was little had made her crave a big warm family of her own. Or rather, a warm, loving family—she had enough aunts and uncles and cousins, just none who wanted her. “Who's next?”

“That'd be Owen, although he's been called Mac since high school. You've probably heard of him.”

She hadn't until the last few days when she'd been Googling the hell out of his family. “The soccer player?”

“That's the one. After kicking that own goal against Brazil in the Centennial Copa, which stopped the US making the finals, he's a bit of a mess at the moment. Mom should be putting her energies into worrying about him more than me.”

“Is he going to return to soccer?”

Callum shrugged one shoulder. “Who knows? He doesn't want to talk about that, or anything else come to think of it, with any of us. He might not even show up today. Surely, you'd rather talk about something more interesting than my dysfunctional brothers.”

She laughed. “Don't you have sisters too?”

He didn't ask how she knew—she guessed he just assumed that everyone knew the McKinnels, which was probably true if you were a local. “Yes, Annabel and Sophie. And they are gorgeous. But don't tell them I told you, or I will have to kill you.”

“I bet you're one of those really protective big brothers, aren't you?” she said, trying not to grin from ear to ear. Callum loved his mom, his sisters and her dog... She was heading into danger territory and needed to get a grip.

“Muffin, stop licking my ear. I can't see the road.”

Chastised, Muffin desisted, slumping down and falling promptly asleep across the gearbox and the two of their laps. Chelsea absentmindedly fondled his fur, wishing it was just Callum she was spending the day with. In spite of his massive sex appeal, she felt comfortable with him. The thought, however, of sitting around a table with all his siblings made her palms sweat almost as much as it intrigued her. She had no experience whatsoever with big, close-knit families.

“Sorry, I'm probably boring you senseless talking about my family,” he said, as if sensing her nerves. “Tell me something exciting about yourself.”

She snorted in a quite unladylike manner. “There is absolutely nothing exciting to tell. I am the definition of boring.”

“I don't believe that for a second.” He paused, then said, “Who is the old man in the photo on your desk?”

A lump formed in her throat making it impossible to answer.

“Sorry. I wasn't snooping that day. I saw the photo when I was tidying up.”

“It's okay.” The thought of him overstepping boundaries had never crossed her mind; he'd been nothing but kind and honorable in their interactions so far. She inhaled deeply. “That's my grandfather. He died just before I moved to Bend. I lived with him from when I was about fifteen until then. I was his caregiver.”

“I see. I'm sorry.” He looked at her with an expression that made her heart swell. “You must miss him. What was his ailment?”

She swallowed. “Alcohol.”

Awkward silence reigned for a few moments as if Callum didn't know what to say to that. She felt a little bad because her family's alcohol issues weren't his fault; then again, if people like
his
family didn't make their living from alcohol, then others couldn't buy it. They weren't much better than tobacco companies in her opinion.

Finally, he said, “That must have been very hard on you.”

“Yes, but he loved me the best he could, so I wanted to be there for him.” Being with Grandpa had been far better than living with her parents and then being shifted from one family member to the next, which is what she'd done until she'd finally landed with him. The easygoing mood that had hung in the air while he spoke about his family had evaporated and she racked her brain for a way to get it back. Her fingers in Muffin's fur gave her an idea.

“You said your family love animals. Does your mom have any at her place?”

“Not right now, but there was always at least one four-legged creature hanging around while we were kids.”

For the rest of the drive to the distillery, they spoke about the various pets the McKinnels had owned over the years. She loved listening to the anecdotes Callum shared about the scrapes he and his siblings had gotten into with their furry friends and it also relaxed her, so that by the time they arrived at his mom's house, her hands weren't sweating quite so badly.

“Gorgeous place,” she said as Callum opened the passenger door for her and offered her his hand. It was warm and he was such a gentleman; she'd honestly thought they were extinct, like dinosaurs. Muffin had already leaped out the driver's side after Callum and was now snuffling around the garden in the shallow layer of snow that had fallen overnight.

She gazed widemouthed at one of the prettiest houses she'd ever seen. Huge, but not showy. It was in the same style as the distillery, which they'd passed on their way in. There was a beautiful swimming pool right out front. She shivered at the way the water glistened icily right now, but in summer it would be lovely.

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Callum said, not letting go of her hand as he shut the door behind her. “One of those things you take for granted when you see it every day. Now, you ready?”

No
. But it was too late to chicken out, so she nodded and let him lead her up the garden path toward the front door, Muffin bounding ahead of them and then lagging behind when he found something else new to investigate.

The door was flung open a few steps before they reached it and in the doorway stood a middle-aged woman who had to be Nora McKinnel. She was petite and thin, well groomed in bright clothes. When she threw her arms around Callum, Chelsea could see the love in their embrace. Three seconds later, Nora caught her off guard by throwing her arms around Chelsea, as well.

“You must be Chelsea. Callum said he was bringing a
friend
. Any friend of Callum's is always welcome. So glad you could join us.”

“Thanks,” Chelsea said, flummoxed and a tad uncomfortable in the stranger's arms.

Nora pulled back and glanced down at Muffin who had inserted himself between the two women. “And who is this delightful thing?”

“This is Muffin. I hope you don't mind, but Callum said I could bring him.”