She might need more time to come to grips with her relationship with Baird. Or even to see if she was interested in more of one with Guthrie. Like she had said, she needed to unwind after the party last night and it didn’t mean that she was ready for anything more serious.
Guthrie had even made the effort to find seating away from Calla this morning at breakfast. But as soon as he had taken the seat next to Duncan, Heather vacated the seat on the other side of him and Calla took her place. It had to be a conspiracy to test his resolve.
If he didn’t know better, he’d think the lass was attempting to court him. When he was trying to maintain some distance.
***
Guthrie drove Calla, Julie, Elaine, Heather, Shelley, his Aunt Agnes, and his mother into the town of Druie in their minibus that could seat as many as fifteen pack members, and they all chatted away about the places where they wanted to go. All but Calla. She was as quiet as she’d been at breakfast, but she caught his eye in the rearview mirror and gave him another of her elusive smiles.
Hell, if she kept it up, they were going back to the garden room or, better yet, her guest room or his bedchamber for a repeat of last night’s extracurricular activities.
He parked a way out so they could stroll along the sidewalks and search for the presents they wanted to pick up for Christmas. He stuck close to the group while four other pack members kept eyes on them from strategic points as the group moved to see the sights. He half listened to their conversation while keeping an eye out for Baird or any of his kin.
He and the ladies paused to watch a heavily tattooed man with a shaved head as he demonstrated swallowing a sword. Despite the chilly winter breeze, the sword-swallower was dressed in a kilt and no shirt.
Guthrie observed the feat, thinking the man had to be damn cold but could not be a wolf—no wolf would risk being found in wolf form with tattoos and raising dangerous speculation. In any event, Guthrie thought the man should have had more respect for both his sword and where he placed it.
His mother said, “If anyone in our family did that, Ian would make him leave the pack.”
Agreeing, Guthrie smiled at her. The ladies went into shops of all sorts while Ethan caught his eye every so often and gave him a nod from across the street. A man dressed in a ten-foot-tall reindeer costume walked on stilts in the crowded street as shoppers huddled together, talking or sauntering into the next store, several carrying packages.
Six reindeer pulled a sled carrying the jolly old elf himself to his Christmas throne where some of his helpers waited for him. Women and kids were already queued up to see him, including some of the MacNeill wolf pack’s younger children waiting with their mothers to see Santa and receive a small toy from him.
When the ladies came out of another shop, Calla got a call. “This is Calla Stewart’s Party and Wedding Planning Service, Calla speaking. How may I help you?”
She got the calls all the time from prospective clients, but as soon as her forehead wrinkled, Guthrie drew closer to see what the matter was.
The other ladies waited with her, but she waved them on and they entered the next shop. Calla stopped walking and Guthrie stayed with her. He reminded himself it could be nothing, like a bride changing the colors of her flowers again.
Until Calla said in an annoyed way to the caller, “Baird.”
***
Calla often received calls from unknown numbers that led to party dates, so she hadn’t hesitated to answer the call. But when she heard Baird’s voice on the other end of the line, her heart beat faster. He’d never tried using an unknown number before. Now every time she got a call like that, she’d suspect it was him and wouldn’t want to answer it. Damn him.
“Calla, don’t hang up on me,” Baird said, his voice gruff, not conciliatory. She wasn’t sure if it was because he had to get the words out before she did hang up on him, or if he was still angry with her for not getting back together with him.
“Hear me out. I’ve only been trying to see you because the”—Baird paused as if he was biting back a curse word—“MacNeills won’t let me speak with you. I just want to talk and clear the air between us. I’m sorry about what happened to Cearnach and Elaine. I really believed, and still do, that Cearnach was trying to break us up. I thought he had the hots for you. So I was wrong about that. I realized that as soon as he mated with Elaine. But he was still trying to break us up. You’ve got to see where I’m coming from.”
“Baird…” Elaine noticed Guthrie moving closer to her and looking like he was ready to give Baird a piece of his mind—or more, if he could reach through the phone and connect physically. “I already said I wanted to end this business between us amicably. We’re not getting back together. Cearnach’s been my friend for longer than I’ve known you.
“Despite his concern that you weren’t right for me, he came to the wedding to congratulate me on the marriage, and he behaved himself. I told you I had invited him. You and your brothers and cousins had to retaliate by destroying his vehicle, stealing Elaine’s rental car, and leaving them to fend for themselves as wolves in the light of day as they made their way back to the castle. Both Cearnach and Elaine could have been injured or killed. So no, we can’t work things out between us. You’d never let me have any friends who weren’t of your choosing.”
“Calla…”
“Nay, Baird. Find someone else. It’s over between us. Just…let it go and quit following me everywhere.”
“They won’t always be watching you,” he warned and ended the call.
Her skin crawling with unease, Calla glanced around at the crowded street and sidewalks, looking for any sign of Baird, phone to her ear as if he was still there. She knew the MacNeills would not like what Baird had said to her.
She finally slipped her phone into her pocket, forced a smile at Guthrie, and said, “Got to catch up to the other ladies.” Before Guthrie could question her about Baird, she quickly stepped into the shop to join Julia.
“Another engagement or one that you’re already handling?” Julia asked, but then she frowned at Calla. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Calla said.
“Don’t tell me that. Your face has lost most of its color and you’re upset. Who called?”
Calla should have figured she couldn’t get anything past another wolf. “Baird. I’m so sick of this, Julia. But I have no idea how to get him to stop bothering me.”