On A Night Like This (Callaways #1)

My whole life, my entire sense of identity, is in question. Talk about not knowing who you are, I have no idea who anyone in my family is."
    He nodded. "We can talk about it."
    "No, not yet," she said quickly. "Let's just have dinner. It's almost ready. Why don't you sit down and put your leg up."
    "Good idea," he said, moving over to the table.
    "I met one of your neighbors earlier, a very attractive redhead named Mallory. She asked me to tell you that she was thinking about you and that you should call her."
    "Thanks," he said, taking a seat.
    "So who is Mallory? An old girlfriend?" she asked, a curious gleam in her eyes.
    "I wouldn't call her a girlfriend. We went out a few times." He grimaced as he propped up his leg on a nearby chair.
    "Do you need some ice?" Sara asked, not missing a thing.
    "It will be fine."
    She didn't look like she believed him, but she let it go. "So what happened with Mallory?"
    "Nothing. We had some laughs. That was it. There was no big drama."
    "She likes you. I recognized that look in her eyes when she asked about you."
    "Mallory likes a lot of people," he said with a shrug. "Believe me, I did not break her heart."
    "Would you know if you had?" Sara challenged.
    "I don't get involved with women who are looking for a serious relationship. I'm up front about that. I always have been. Except, maybe with you. But that night with you was unexpected. I didn't handle it well obviously." He paused, waiting for her to make a comeback, but her gaze was focused on the stove. "What about you, Sara? You're as single as I am. What's your story?"
    "I have no story. I told you I work all the time, and I haven't met anyone I liked well enough to change that." She paused, her expression contemplative. "Love has always been a mystery to me. I saw love when I looked next door, but I didn't see it in my own home. I certainly never wanted to model my parents' relationship. And I've never wanted to be with a man who could make me as sad as my mom used to get. She tried not to show her unhappiness to me, but I could see it. Sometimes I could hear their raised voices late at night. I used to worry sometimes that she'd leave and not take me with her. I did not want to get stuck with my dad." She turned her gaze to Aiden. "But that's exactly what happened. I got stuck with my dad, and he's not any more happy about it than I am. Anyway, I don't want to talk about him—or even about love. My few attempts at the emotion haven't turned out so well."
    He had a feeling he'd been one of those attempts, and it bothered him. He'd never meant to hurt her.
    "Love can be good," he said slowly.
    She raised an eyebrow. "You're going to advocate love now?"
    "Well, I've seen it in my grandparents. My father's parents have been married for sixty years, and they're devoted to each other."
    "That is unbelievable," she said.
    "And my father and Lynda seem to have a strong relationship. Sometimes on the outside it looks one-sided, like she does everything for him, but the old man can be a romantic."
    Sara nodded. "He is romantic. I remember on one of Lynda's birthdays your dad hired a plane to fly over your house with, I love you, Lynda , in skywriting."
    "That's Jack Callaway—bigger than life. He's always been about the grand gesture."
    "Well, I was impressed. So was Emma. We sat on the curb watching that plane and talking about how one day we were going to find guys like that. Turns out they're more difficult to find than we thought," she said with a wry smile.
    "Maybe you haven't been looking in the right spot."
    "Maybe you haven't either," she retorted.
    Their gazes caught and something passed in between, something amazing and a little terrifying.
    Then Sara looked away, turning her attention back to the stove. "This is ready."
    "I'll get some plates."
    "No, just sit, rest," she said. "I can handle putting dinner on the table."
    That was the easy part, he thought. After dinner, they had the rest of the evening to handle, and he had a feeling bringing Sara home with him was going to be one of the worst ideas he'd ever had.

    * * *
    Dinner conversation was casual, neutral, and Sara felt herself relaxing after the tense few moments before the meal when Aiden had given her a look that told her he was just as aware as she was that there was something going on between them, even if neither one of them wanted to admit it.
    Or… Maybe she'd imagined that look. She had a long history of hoping Aiden would suddenly wake up and see