Claiming Callie: Part two (30 page)

“There. Ready,” he says, clearing his throat and tapping his nose with her finger. The gesture is playful and she can
’
t help but feel Dean
’
s hiding his emotions with it.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

Dean and I are going on a date. A real date.
But he has his sights set on someone else, she reminds herself. And that thought is worst of all.

An image of Maya, with her inky crop of hair and flawless skin, poking her in the chest with fire in her eyes, pops in her head and Callie grimaces.

“Are you
hungry?”

His question brings her back to the present, and she has to laugh, grateful for the interruption of her thoughts. The last thing she wants to think about is Maya and how much she despises her.

“Of course, any date with you would start with food. B
ut, sure. I haven
’
t eaten yet,” she says.

“
Then we
’
re going to Primanti Brothers.”

He grabs her hand as she wrinkles her nose. “I
’
ve never understood the reverence of that place. Coleslaw and French fries on a sandwich? It
’
s just not right.”

Dean gasps and
turns his shocked gaze to her. “You
’
re not a Pittsburgian if you don
’
t like Primanti
’
s.”

“Pittsburgian? That
’
s not even a word.”

“It is now. But, whatever. How can you be from Pittsburgh and not appreciate a true quality sammich?”

She raises her hands in
defense. “I am very much a Pittsburgian, as you say; I just prefer my sides on the side. So don
’
t go all crazy if you see me picking my fries off and dipping them in ketchup.”

“That
’
s blasphemy.” Dean stops dead in his tracks and clutches at his chest, as
if he’s wounded. “And you
’
re saying that now. But you
’
ve never experienced When Pigs Fly.” They begin to walk again, coming up on Dean
’
s car in the parking lot.

“I
’
m afraid to even ask.”

“Their latest masterpiece. Turkey, ham, bacon, all piled high with a
fried egg, slaw, French fries, cheese, and tomato. It
’
s like heaven between bread.”

She gets in his car as he opens her door. “Whatever you say,” she says, smiling.

#

They sit in a booth. The soft glow of light illuminates the restaurant while the clatter
of dishes and chatter of patrons serve as the backdrop to the iconic city diner. On Callie
’s plate
the second half of her sandwich—if you can call this monstrosity that—remains uneaten.

Dean wipes his hands on a napkin as he chews the final bite of his foo
d. “
Well?
” he asks, eyeing her under the brim of his Pitt baseball cap.

“I have to admit it was pretty good.”

“Ha!” He smiles. “Told you.”

“I have no idea how a normal person can eat this much, though.”

“You
’
re not going to finish it?”

She shakes her head,
grimacing.

“That
’
s sacrilege, but whatever. I
’
m just getting started. Next we
’
re going to the Pittsburgh Popcorn Company and getting d
ill
pickle popcorn, then to Crazy Mocha, where we will feed our caffeine addictions with a huge coffee to wash it all dow
n.”

“That
’
s a gross combination.”

Dean shrugs. “Hey, it
’
s what I do. Don
’
t knock the combo until you
’
ve tried it. It
’
s surprisingly pleasing to the palette.”

Callie laughs. “Whatever you say.”

#

Dean reaches down and grabs her hand as they enter the Pittsb
urgh Popcorn Company. It
’
s funny how that one gesture—something they
’
ve been doing for weeks now—makes her stomach flop. But then, all the other times were for show. This is for real. And her proximity with Dean, this date, makes her wonder if maybe they d
o have something between them.

There are so many questions bouncing around her head that she can
’
t keep up.
Does he still want Maya? Does he want me, or am I imagining it? Was there truth to his mother’s words last night? Is there even anything here, or ha
ve I completely lost touch with reality? I mean, this is Dean we
’
re talking about.

They stop in front of the glass display of popcorn and Dean rubs his hands together. “Okay, now for the dill.”

Callie wrinkles her nose. “Are you really going to get dill
pickle popcorn to go with coffee?”

“I
’
m telling you, it
’
s surprisingly delicious. However, I sense your distaste, and because I
’
m a gentleman
I will also let you pick a flavor.”

Callie laughs. That
’
s the thing about Dean; he makes anyone feel comfortable.

When was the last time I laughed this much?

“Well, thank you for the consideration.” Callie taps her lips and moves around the small storefront checking out the varieties, both fresh and pre-bagged. “
Oooh. Yes.
”

He comes up behind her and wraps his arms
around her, pulling her gently into his chest. The move is so unexpected, Callie freezes.

“See something you want?” he whispers in her ear.

His voice sends chills shooting through her body from head to toe. Her heart raps a staccato beat against her ribs,
and the air seems to have suddenly been sucked from the room.

His chest is firm and warm. It takes a moment for her to wrap her head around the fact that this is Dean
’
s embrace she sinks into. She releases her pent-up breath and breathes him in. He smells
of sandalwood and something softer, citrus.

“Do you? See something you want?” she whispers back.

“
I do.
”

The protective circle of his arms scatters her thoughts. She can
’
t think. She has no idea what she was looking at a second ago. The only thing she
’
s aw
are of in this moment is him.

She turns in his arms so that she
’
s facing him. His eyes are on her, and in them she sees an emotion she
’
s never noticed before. Longing? Hope? Need? “Dean—”

“Can I help you?” a voice next to them asks.

Callie blinks. It takes
her a moment, but she glances to her right to see the young woman behind the counter staring at them. And in the split second before she says something else, Callie realizes that to her and other passersby she and Dean look like any other young couple.

“U
m,” Callie starts. A blush rises in her cheeks, but Dean jumps in and saves her.

He drops her arms and grabs her hand again, gesturing around the store. “Pick your pleasure. I believe you found something you liked, before I interrupted you. What
’
ll it be?”

Callie looks at him, grateful for his grace, and smiles. “The chocolate waffle cone.”

“Blech.” Dean makes an exaggerated face. “You
’
re such a girl.”

He orders their popcorn while she laughs. Then they head to Crazy Mocha. They make themselves comfortable
at a little table next to the windows so they can people watch while they eat and drink. Dean begins to eat his dill popcorn, then takes a sip of his coffee.

“See. That
’
s just proof that you
’
re a garbage disposal
,”
Callie points out
as he shoves a handful of popcorn in his mouth.

She brings a piece of the flavor she picked to her mouth and chews. When Dean swallows, she hands him a piece. “Here, try this.”

He obeys and eats the sweet concoction and grins. “Okay. That. Is. Amazing.”