Life in a Rut, Love not Included (Love Not Included series Book 1) (14 page)

“Sounds like I should watch my back around you, Jack Calloway,” I say, turning to him.

“That is the one thing you should not do.” He walks up to me and clasps his arm around my waist, then he turns me to lead us deeper towards his office.

I think I’m going to enjoy working for him.

J
ACK AND I SPEND
the next two hours going over blueprints of projects that have been put on hold since he has been so busy. It is quite impressive to see the types of clients that request Calloway Construction for their business. Not that I think he isn’t worth every penny, but we are talking big-name clients. Jack has been working on a huge project and has been forced to put some projects on the shelf—the smaller ‘ma and pop’ clients—to focus on the bigger clients. He explains to me that it isn’t the money that drives him, so his guilt for not completing these projects sits on his shoulders, but his clients are faithful to Calloway Construction and some go back from when his dad was around so they chose to wait it out, knowing it would be worth the wait.

He shows me a project that is in major need of a marketing plan. Jack has gotten around to designing the architectural plan for a kids’ park for one of the smaller Chicago suburbs, but they need to be sold on the idea. His expertise is the design. How to sell it and market it to the city to get approved is where I come in.

It seems like the list goes on and on. This poor guy needed me eons ago! He shows me a restaurant project for an old building that I’m familiar with. The owners want to revamp it into a more modern restaurant and he has some ideas and prints, but again, he needs to sell the architecture in such a way that the client will see the vision. One after another, we go over each sitting project that needs some attention. With each one that he explains, I light up more. This is going to be a piece of cake for me. He is offering me the opportunity to help create a vision for these clients who put their hard work and pay to create something for their community. By the time he is done showing me my options, I am glowing with excitement.

“So what do you think? Is this something you can help me with?”

My smile is turned all the way up. “I think you came to the right person, Mr. Callaway. But I will forewarn you, I am not cheap,” I state a bit seriously.

Jack breaks the distance between us and gathers me into his arms. I wrap my arms around his neck, and he leans down to meet my gaze. Then he says, “I’m sure I will find a way to pay you as well as keep you very happy, Ms. Sullivan.” He closes the remaining space between us and kisses me.

A
S MUCH AS I
want to stay behind closed doors with Jack all day and play
who can get naked faster,
I have a new passion and excitement on my hands. I couldn’t even believe he was holding out on me with this! I was so excited to work on these projects I didn’t even know where to begin. I had to convince Jack, which actually was a bit difficult, that we should put our necking on hold so I could get started on these plans right away.

I barely even talked to him while he drove me back to the house because I was so engrossed in looking at the plans and layouts. Idea after idea was overflowing in my head and I just couldn’t get all of my ideas down fast enough. It had been way too long since I was able to indulge in a good marketing plan.

We make it to the house, and I about jump out of the truck without even saying goodbye. Realizing quickly how rude I just was, I jump back in and slam a kiss on his lips.

“Thank you for this,” I tell him. “I won’t let you down.”

“Should I be worried that I just unintentionally replaced myself in your head with work?” he asks jokingly.

“I’m a paid employee, Jack. It’s important that I don’t let my boss down. If you’re lucky, maybe I will let you take me out again and you can tell me more about that bedroom that you built with your bare hands . . .”

“How do you know I built it with my bare hands?” he asks.

“Oh, because that’s what I dream you’re doing with those strong hands of yours when they aren’t all over my body and inside places warm and inviting,” I say, giving him the sweetest wink, and then I jump out of his truck.

I walk up the driveway, swaying my cute little ass because I know he is watching. Once I get to the door I turn around to see him staring at me with his mouth gaping open. I think I actually rendered Mr. Jack Calloway speechless! With, I’m sure, a little aching in the private parts department. Well, good. Now we’re even.

S
EVEN CUPS OF COFFEE
, three packages of Pop Tarts, and twelve hours later, I perfect the City Park project. It is crazy awesome. I am also exhausted and I believe semi-unconscious at my kitchen table. I hear distant voices, but I am pretty sure I am too tired to even bother pulling my eyes open.

“What is she doing?” I hear someone say.

“I’m not sure. I found her like this when I woke up this morning. I made a few attempts to wake her but she doesn’t budge. Poor girl worked herself into a coma.”

I identify voice #1 as Jack, and voice #2 as my mother. I am kind of hoping they will just go away or talk a bit quieter because I seriously need to get some sleep.

But knowing Jack, it doesn’t take long before I feel his fingers wrap around my waist and pick me up into his arms. I crack open an eye then quickly shut it once the light strikes my vision.

“What are you doing?” I mumble into his shoulder. God, he smells good.

“I’m thinking about firing you, first of all. But most importantly I am carrying you to your bed so you can get some sleep in a place that doesn’t consist of a chair and a table.”

“I finished the City Park proposal.”

“I bet you did.”

“It’s perfect.”

“I’m sure it is.”

“You’re going to be very pleased with me.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.”

“I’m probably going to ask for a raise.”

“You don’t even know what I’m paying you now . . .”

“Then you can just pay me with that sexy mouth of yours.”

I can feel Jack’s chest vibrate while he laughs. Everything about Jack is turning out to be infectious. He makes it to my room and gently lays me on my bed and pulls up the covers.

“Sleep,” he says while brushing a few strands of hair out of my face.

“Maybe just for a few minutes,” I muffle out.

I am asleep in seconds.

I
WAKE UP A
bit groggy and confused about why I am dressed in my clothes and why my mouth is so dry. I don’t think I hung out with Aunt Raines last night but one can never be too sure. I peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth and sit up.
What day is it?
Life starts returning to me as my ‘all-nighter’ comes flooding back, along with my awesome accomplishment. I look on my nightstand and notice a note folded and sitting on the ledge. I open it:

God, even his handwriting is attractive! I throw myself out of bed like a bat outta hell and head for the shower. This meeting sounds very serious. As in, I-should-probably-shave-all-over serious.

Everything in place, I set out to meet Jack. I choose my lucky gold stilettos because nothing can go wrong when you’re in the trusting hands of a perfect shoe. I grab all of my work and head out.

I end up on a long dirt road, a bit nervous that I am headed the wrong direction. Pretty certain I’m going to end up at the edge of a cliff soon, I finally start to see objects. As in a building of some sort. The closer I get the more I realize it’s a house. Holy mother of hugeness, this is Jack’s house? There is no way that picture did it any justice. It is awesome! It sits on what has to be at least two acres of land. The structure is a ranch house with a porch wrapping around the whole house.

As I get close to the house, I can’t even imagine someone building something so extraordinary. The house must be five of my parents’ house put together. How does he live here all alone?
Does he live here alone?
I park quickly and get out of the car.

As I walk up to the house, I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel for the first time a bit intimidated by what’s been going on. All of this stuff with Jack has come out of nowhere. It is all happening so fast, but it’s just so perfect. He has brought out so many positive emotions in me. Just thinking about him, it takes almost nothing to get my blood boiling with excitement. I step onto the porch and approach the door. I ring the bell in anticipation, debating turning around and running faster than hell back to the car like a Scaredy Cat. Too late.

Jack opens door right as I pivot to leave.

“Leaving so soon?” he asks, apparently figuring out my plan of action.

“Of course not. I figured you may have been in the shower, or changing, so I was going to find an open window and pull some Peeping Tom action.” Or run . . .

“Uh huh,” he says. “Come in. I’ve been waiting for you. Thought you were going to sleep through the week.”

“Hey!” I bat him on the shoulder. “You’re the one who forced me to go to sleep.”

“Which you obviously needed.”

We walk past the entryway, through the spacious living room into the open kitchen, and I stop. The scene in front of me leaves me speechless. Jack’s kitchen is a huge open layout with white cabinets and dark granite countertops, all surrounding an island bar. The room connects to a sitting room that has a wall lined with bookshelves all stacked full. In the far end of the room, the fireplace is lit and inviting. And on the other side, the whole wall is made of glass, which I’m assuming leads to the outside. But what takes my breath completely away is all the added features. Jack has set out on the island bar a spread of food and wine, all surrounded by lit candles.