Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5

L ock pushed up from the deck, climbing to his feet. Not his deck. Hamish’s. A Misty Peak local who’d needed someone to replace sections of rotting wood for him.

Lock had been getting a lot of calls like this lately. Word had gotten around town that he was home, and everyone knew he was good at this kind of work. Growing up, he’d spent summers with an uncle who was a contractor, and he’d taught him a lot. His uncle had passed away when Lock was eighteen, but he remembered everything the man had taught him.

The work was good. He needed to keep busy. To find things to do other than think about Callie. About the way she was avoiding him. The way she wouldn’t give him five damn minutes of her time.

He shoved the hammer into his tool belt with a bit too much force.

Two more times, he’d seen her around town in the last week since the hardware store. On both occasions, she’d turned and basically run from him like he was a predator.

“All finished?”

Hamish was coming out of the house. The guy was about the same age as Lock, similar height and build. He often spoke with a stutter, but Lock barely noticed.

He nodded. “All done.”

Hamish pushed his glasses up his nose. “Thank you for c-coming on such short notice. I overheard Macy saying you were b-back and doing jobs for locals, and after Mom tripped on the rotting wood yesterday, I knew I needed someone.”

Hamish lived with his mother. A kind, elderly woman who’d come out to offer him sweet tea a dozen times. “Happy to help.”

“So, are you here for g-good? Home, I mean. Or are you going back to the military?” Hamish didn’t make eye contact for the last bit. In fact, his gaze seemed to continually shift from Lock’s right shoulder to the ground.

“I’m home for good.”

Hamish nodded. It was a quick, jerky nod. “Guess you’ll be picking things back up with C-Callie then.”

His chest contracted at her name. He should probably expect locals to ask him about her. “At the moment, I’d settle for a friendship with her.”

Hamish’s eyes widened and met his, then shifted back to Lock’s shoulder as he nodded.

Lock frowned. “You spend much time with her?”

“Me? Well, I, uh, do her c-classes sometimes. They’re good. I mean, she’s good. Good at what she d-does.” He shook his head. “I should get back inside. Text me the i-invoice.”

Before he could respond, Hamish turned and moved back inside his house.

Did the guy have a thing for Callie? It wouldn’t surprise him. She was kind and smart and had this damn dimple when she smiled that was hard not to adore.

Fuck, he was losing his mind being home but not being with her. He packed up his tools and shoved them into his truck before heading to his place.

Hamish did Callie’s classes. It shouldn’t make him jealous, but it did, because he wanted to spend an hour listening to her voice. Looking at her sweet smile.

They were open to the public. He could do one.

Shit, why hadn’t he thought of that earlier?

He hit the Bluetooth on his truck and called his youngest brother. Jace answered and wind blew over the line before he spoke.

“Lock. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“You’ve done one of Callie’s Pilates classes, haven’t you?”

“Uh, yeah, I did. Hurt like hell too. I had to pretend my ass wasn’t killing me for the next week. Why?”

“You free right now?”

“Just getting back from a run. Why?”

“Tell me how to book a class.”

A beat of silence passed. “One of Callie’s classes?”

“No, Alcoholics Anonymous. Yes , one of Callie’s classes.”

“I don’t know—”

“She won’t talk to me. She won’t give me five damn minutes of her time. I need to see her.” And it was definitely a need.

“Fine. Give me a sec. I’ll go online and see if there are any open spots in her next class.”

Lock pulled into his driveway and waited. Every second that ticked by felt like ten.

“All right, booked us in.”

Lock frowned. “Us?”

“Yeah, us. There were two spots left, and I’m not missing the look on her face when you stroll in.”

“Jace—”

“Class starts in thirty. Don’t be late.” He hung up.

Thirty minutes? Shit.

He jogged inside and had the quickest shower of his life before changing into shorts and a T-shirt. When he was back in his truck, he checked the time. Fifteen minutes.

He headed toward the studio, his blood running that bit faster at the prospect of seeing her.

If he tried to speak to her after the class, would she listen to him today? Hell, it wasn’t just that he had stuff to tell her; he also had a million questions for her. Where had she been all this time? What had she been doing? Had she dated anyone?

The last question felt like a hand fisting in his gut. Technically, he didn’t have the right to care. He’d ended things with her. But he did care.

When he pulled his truck to the side of the road near the studio, he saw Jace climbing out of his car across the street, a half grin on his face.

What the hell was he smiling about?

“I’ve got a cap in my car if you want to pop it on and pull it over your face, then shout surprise after we step inside,” Jace said when he reached Lock.

Lock shoved his brother in the shoulder. “Glad you find my pain so entertaining.”

The smile dropped from Jace’s face as they moved toward the studio. “Seriously though, she really won’t hear you out?”

“No. Will barely let me speak.”

Jace’s brows slashed together. “That’s strange, isn’t it? I would have thought she’d been waiting two years to hear the full story of why you ended things, and at least get an apology.”

“Apparently not.”

They stepped inside to see three women on reformer machines and Callie with her back to them, talking to the woman on the end. She wore tight yoga pants and a sports bra. Her hair was pulled up, and fuck, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

Then she turned, and Lock had to remind himself to breathe. Because that smile…damn, it was beautiful.

But the second her gaze landed on him, the smile turned into a frown and she marched toward him.

She stopped less than a foot away, her sweet strawberry scent filling the air. “I have a class, Lock.”

“I know. I’m in the class.”

If possible, her frown deepened. “No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“ No . You’re not. Jace and a woman named Lola are the last two people. I have a list.”

Jace cleared his throat. “Callie, meet Lola.”

The fuck? Lola?

“Sorry, it must have been a typo, although I think the name kind of suits him.” Jace nudged Lock’s shoulder and muttered, “You’re welcome.” Then moved to a reformer.

Jesus.

Callie glared at him. “Lock—”

“It’s just a class, Callie.”

Her teeth visibly ground together before she blew out a breath. “Fine. Just the class.” Then she swung away from him.

She was letting him stay. And it kind of felt like a small victory.

The sneaky jerk. He’d known she wouldn’t be able to kick him out in front of the class right when it was about to start. He’d probably have fought her on it, and there was no way she’d argue in front of clients.

But now, because of him , she’d fumbled every sequence, at one point not even remembering the exercise that was supposed to come next.

It was a mess. One big, fat, uncomfortable mess. She hadn’t been able to think with his eyes on her. And they had been on her. All. Freaking. Class.

She forced a smile. “Thank you so much for coming, everyone. I hope to see you in another class soon.”

She didn’t look at him. Not while she spoke. Not while she handed out wipes to clean the machines. There was a fraction of a second when he took the wipe that their hands touched, and she looked him in the eye…but that was a mistake. A huge, colossal mistake, because there’d been this catch in her throat that she felt completely incapable of stopping.

Then he’d thanked her in that deep, sexy voice of his—and she’d tripped over the floor. Yep, the floor. There’d been nothing in front of her, she’d just tripped and barely caught herself.

If there was a definition for embarrassing, it was that.

As people started to file out, the nerves crawled up her throat.

He was going to talk to her. Of course he was. Only this time, she couldn’t run away.

Jace said something to Lock before turning toward the door.

Oh God, once his brother was gone, it would just be the two of them…again.

“Thanks for the class, Callie,” Jace called before stepping outside.

The silence that followed felt thick and heavy, weaving itself inside her veins.

Without looking up, she cleared her throat and said, “You need to leave too.”

“You can’t even look at me now?”

No. She couldn’t. Because then she risked forgetting their past and throwing herself into his arms.

Pathetic. She was pathetic.

Slowly, she forced her gaze up, way up, into his ridiculously beautiful eyes. It felt strange thinking of a guy like Lock, someone so big and strong, as beautiful, but he was. He always had been.

“I’m not ready to talk about it.” The words came out fast but quiet.

His brows twitched. “Why not?”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” The lie fell off her tongue. And it was a big lie. Their past and the reason things had worked out the way they did mattered. It had always mattered.

“You don’t want to know why I ended our relationship that day?”

“You loved me one day and broke my heart the next. The reason behind it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t send us back in time or undo what you did. It doesn’t give you back to me when I needed you most.”

The familiar panic curled in her belly at the memory of the night she so desperately needed him, but he wasn’t there.

She breathed through it, only looking back at Lock after a stretch of silence.

Crap. He was looking at her like she was a puzzle to solve.

“When was that?”

She swallowed. “What?”

“When did you need me most?”

She shook her head. “Lock, you can’t come in here demanding things from me. I thought we were forever. You treated me like we were forever. But then you did what you did and I had to come to the painful conclusion that you were never someone I got to keep. You were a memory. A lesson. But never my ending.”

Anger darkened his features. And maybe something else. Frustration? “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

She grabbed a random pile of papers from the desk and rounded it, moving toward the back room, needing to be somewhere else. “You really need to leave.”

“No. Not until we talk about this.”

Goddammit, he was stubborn. She dropped the papers onto the table.

“Did something happen after that day? Is that why you left town?”

She closed her eyes, pain skittering through her belly. And maybe some panic.

He touched her hip, and the warmth of his palm seeped through her clothes and into her skin.

“Callie, please, talk to me.” His head lowered, his breath brushing over her skin, making the air hard to move through her chest. “Let me in.”

Her mouth opened and closed, and for a moment, she almost wanted to tell him. For a split second, she wanted to let the truth slip into the air and be a weight they could bear together. But then red flashed in her mind. Crimson red coating her thighs. Staining her sheets.

And the calls to Lock…the calls she’d so desperately needed him to answer. The ones he could have answered.

She stepped away so quickly, her hip hit the small table and the papers fell to the floor.

“Shit.” She crouched and began to pile everything back up. Lock lowered opposite her, and they both reached for the last piece of paper at the same time. Too late, she realized what it was—the note from her stalker. The newest one she’d received yesterday.

Why the hell had she left it out?

He grabbed it first, eyes narrowing as they ran over the writing. “I dream about those green eyes of yours.”

Yep. Another creepy-ass letter from her creepy-ass stalker.

His gaze collided with hers. “Who the hell wrote this?”

“None of your business.” She tried to snatch it from his fingers, but he pulled it away and rose to his feet.

“It is my business because you’re my business. Who wrote it?”

She rose, again trying to grab it from him. Damn the guy for being so tall. “No. I’m not your business. Give it back.”

“Not until you tell me who it’s from.”

“Lock—”

“I’m not leaving until you do.”

Jesus Christ . She massaged her temple. “I don’t know who it’s from. Someone started sending me these notes before we…broke up.”

“ What ?”

She almost jumped at the shouted word.

“How long before we broke up?” he asked.

“Maybe the last six months of our relationship.”

“And you never told me?”

She straightened. “No, I didn’t. Because you worked a dangerous job, and I didn’t want you to worry about me while you were on a mission. Plus, I knew you would have overreacted.”

His jaw clicked. “It wouldn’t have been an overreaction. You’ve had a fucking stalker for two and a half years.”

“No, they stopped when I left town, and they just started again.”

A vein popped out on his temple. “So, like I said, you’ve had a stalker for two and a half years.”

“They’re just notes.”

Going by the narrowing of his eyes, that was the wrong thing to say. “Have you told Eastern?”

“No. I told the old sheriff, and not only could he not do anything, he didn’t care.”

“My brother’s different. He’ll care.”

“Just give it back.”

“Not until you promise you’re going to tell Eastern.”

Now she felt angry. “You don’t get to tell me what to do. You broke up with me, remember? Now give it back.”

“This asshole’s been obsessed with you for over two goddamn years, and you want me to, what? Pretend I didn’t see this? Pretend I don’t care?”

“What I want is for you to let me live my life. This person is creepy, but they’ve never hurt me. I’ll watch my back. Now give it to me, Lock.”

“Callie—”

“ Now .”

The muscles in his arms flexed, and finally he handed it back. But as he did, he leaned down, his mouth almost touching her ear as he whispered, “Fine. But this isn’t over. If you thought I wouldn’t leave you alone before, that’s nothing compared to what’s going to happen now.”

Her throat dried, and before she could utter a word, he turned and was gone, the door of the studio slamming behind him.