Callie, Get Your Groom. Julianna Morris
joking mode. He probably didn’t remember kissing her.
“Good.” He sat on a stack of boxes and looked around. “Say, this place looks better already. I’m impressed.”
You should be, buster. Callie had no illusions. Mike saw her as an appendage of her father, better equipped to organize ice cream socials than run an office. He had no idea she’d created a small but successful business as a management consultant. As she’d told Elaine, let Mike find out the hard way. Meaning, she wanted to see how far he’d stick his foot in his mouth.
“I’m just getting started,” she murmured. “But I almost had heart failure when I got here. How can someone who’s so meticulously neat at home be such a slob at work?”
A dull red crept under Mike’s tan. “Things got out of control. It’s been a rough month without Delia.”
“Oh, yeah?” Callie found a pencil and used it to lift a greasy black something from the desk blotter. “It took longer than a month to become so disreputable. This is a long-term condition—I only hope it’s treatable.”
He snatched the whatever-it-was and threw it into the wastebasket. “Delia never minded.”
“Delia must be a saint. I, however, am not. Frankly, I think she got pregnant as an excuse to bail on you guys.”
She lifted the stained blotter and sent it sailing through the window. After a couple runs to the exterior Dumpster, she’d taken to pitching everything through this convenient opening. Ross was servicing an engine in the maintenance hanger, and he periodically appeared to collect the discarded items.
When she turned around she saw Mike frowning. “What?”
“You’re limping.”
“I know.” Callie grimaced. While her ankle wasn’t badly injured, it was a pointed reminder she should think before acting. “I…uh, fell last night.”
“Yeah, I kind of remember.”
Wonderful. Did he “kind of” remember kissing her? This could get downright humiliating—a blow to her self-esteem, and she’d only been in Alaska for a day.
“These things happen,” she mumbled.
“I should take a look,” Mike announced, and promptly lifted her to the desktop, with her legs dangling over the edge. “We can’t be too careful.”
“I’m fine.” But she wasn’t, because her breathing got all erratic when he touched her. What about her resolve not to let him affect her so much?
“No, I’m responsible for your safety.”
Mike sounded like a beleaguered great-uncle, so Callie considered kicking him in a vulnerable spot. But she sucked in her breath when he sat on the desk chair and put her sandal-clad foot in his lap. Thank goodness she’d shaved her legs. He removed the sandal and gently rotated her foot.
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