“He’s sending a car to my place,” I told Mara.

“How does he know where you live?” she asked.

“Because he’s a stalker.”

“Where’s he taking you?”

“No clue. He said to dress casually, so I’m thinking ponytail, jeans and a Dallas Cowboys hoodie,” I stated.

Mara laughed. “Shit. I don’t even like sports but I know enough that the Cowboys are their rivals.”

“Exactly. All right, I’m closing up and I’ll text you later. Gotta go not get ready for my date.” I rolled my eyes and locked the bakery door, turning the sign to “Closed.”

“Have fun!” she called as she walked back to the flower shop having heard the bells on the door jingle. Then turning, she asked, “Oh! Do I need to set an alarm to execute Operation: Something Bad Happened?”

“God, yes. Thanks for remembering. Eight o’clock. That only makes me have to spend thirty minutes with the jerk then it’ll be over.”

There was a knock at my door at six-fifty-eight. Through the peephole I saw an older white-haired man.

“Who is it?” I called from inside.

“Douglas Droke, miss. Mr. Castleman sent me to pick you up.”

Opening the door, I watched Douglas’s friendly smile turn to a shit-eating grin. Holding out his hand, he nodded his head toward my hoodie and commented, “Cowboys. Castle will throw a fit. This should be fun. Nice to meet you, miss.”

Grinning back, I shook his hand then we took the elevator down to the lobby where outside my building and right in front under the awning was a black Lincoln Town Car which he held open the back door for me.

“Can he be any more cliché,” I said sardonically as I got in.

Douglas snorted before closing the door then got in the driver’s side and we took off.

“So, Douglas, do you work full-time for Mr. Castleman?” I asked from the backseat.

“I’d just say I was on-call for him, miss.”

“Your last name’s Droke. You wouldn’t be related to Bobby Droke, would you?”

“Yes, miss, I am. My son is the left tackle,” he answered.

“So, how’d you end up working for Castle?” I inquired.

“Bobby’s mother passed four years ago, and I was in Springfield alone, so Bobby moved me out here to be closer to him. Got me a nice apartment but after a while, I became bored. I started looking for part-time work to stay occupied, and when Castle heard I was looking, he hired me as a handyman amongst other things. Now, my boy is something else, but Castle is too. Generous as can be. Pays me almost as much as I was making at the plant when I retired. I’ve tried telling him it’s too much but he tells me he has to make sure Bobby’s happy since it’s his job to protect him on the field.” He chuckled. “Good kid, that Castle.”

Hm. This was the second time someone had made it known that Calder Castleman was a good guy. The radio guys had lauded him for his donations to charity and now Mr. Droke was singing his praises. Maybe there was more to Castle than just a pretty face and a cocky attitude. I’d been fighting so hard not to be taken in by his charm, or notice those hazel eyes of his that always seemed to be suggesting that he wanted to do bad things to me, not to mention his killer body, all six-foot-four of him. I’d also ignored his rugged jawline and the perpetual stubble that graced it, his straight nose and high cheekbones, and his fabulous brown hair cut in what I thought was called a pompadour fade, all to save myself from becoming his next target.

But knowing there was a nice side to him, a decent side that wasn’t just a womanizing player, I decided to give him a chance and maybe become friends.

It was worth a shot.

“Holy crap,” I muttered as we passed some of the houses in Wesley Heights.

“Big, aren’t they?” Douglas said.

“You could fit ten of my apartment in them!” I declared.

Douglas laughed then pushed a remote that was attached to the visor. I didn’t see any garage doors opening, but when we turned into a drive, I saw that the gate was opening.

“Castle lives here?” I gasped.

“Yes, miss.”

We approached a three-story colonial-style freaking mansion made of beige stone. Four dormer windows rose up from the rooftop and four huge columns stood like sentinels on the front porch. The landscaping was impeccable with all varieties of trees and bushes gracing the lawn, all lit up so I could see them in the dark. Wow. I was clearly out of my league right about then.

Douglas pulled around to the back of the house then opened my door and helped me out of the car as I stared all googly-eyed at the surroundings. There was a railing farther back from the house, and as I approached it, I saw that below was an infinity pool and a pool house that was at least three times the size of my apartment. Jeez.

“How much do you think this cost?” I asked rudely, but I was in awe at the moment.

“I’ve heard it was almost ten million.”

“Damn.”

“This way, please, miss.”

He led me up the steps to the back door holding it open and I walked into a mudroom that had several cabinets on both walls and at least ten Nike jackets hanging on one wall and twenty pairs of Nike shoes on a floor rack against the other. I guessed if the shoe—and jacket—fit, buy them all?

Douglas led me into a foyer where a wonderful smell hit me, something Italian I could tell, and my stomach growled. As I followed along, I saw there were tons of pictures on the walls of what I assumed were Castle’s family, and they were all beautiful people who looked immensely happy which made me smile. Finally making it to the kitchen, I saw Castle standing at the huge center island concentrating hard at tossing a salad.

“We’re here, Mr. Castleman,” Douglas called getting his attention.

“Oh, hey!” Castle said, wiping his hands on a towel before coming over to shake Douglas’s hand. Smiling, he looked at me and I could tell he didn’t know what to do. I finally held my hand out to him, which he took but instead of shaking it, he squeezed lightly and said, “Hi.”

“Hi,” I echoed. “You have a beautiful house.”

He looked around and said, “This old thing?” then grinned giving me a surprise wink.

“Will you need me anymore tonight?” Douglas asked.

Castle looked at me. “Are you okay with me taking you home?” When I nodded, he told Douglas, “We’re good then. Thanks, man.”

“No problem, sir.”

“Douglas?” Castle said.

“Yes, sir?”

“I’ve told you to call me Castle, please.”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Castle, sir,” Douglas answered. “It was very nice meeting you, Miss. Goodnight, sir,” he said before heading to go out back again.

I looked at Castle and laughed when I saw him shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’ve known him over four years, he could be my dad, yet he still insists on being so formal with me.”

I shrugged. “He’s such a nice guy. Probably how he was brought up. Is his son that nice?”

“He is unless you’re facing him on the field.” He chuckled then asked, “Would you like some wine? I’m, uh, cooking spaghetti bolognese, so I’ve got several reds to choose from.”

“I’ll take a cabernet sauvignon, if you’ve got it,” I replied.

“Of course,” he said, opening a door and going down the steps into what I supposed was a wine cellar.

Holy damn.

When he came back up, he went to a drawer and pulled out a winged corkscrew and opened it. “I guess I should’ve asked if you eat meat before I made dinner, huh?” He grabbed two glasses from the cabinet and poured, handing me mine.

I took a drink of the delicious wine and shared, “Total meat eater here, so it’s all good.”

We stood there in silence after he took a sip, me looking around at his fabulous house and him watching me look at his fabulous house.

He finally broke the quiet. “We need to talk.”

I frowned. “About?”

“About that horrendous hoodie you have on.”

I laughed. “Sorry. I was being kinda ornery, aka a jerk, I guess.”

Setting his glass on the island, he held his finger up before going to the mudroom where I heard a cabinet open and close. When he came back into the kitchen, he had another hoodie in his hands which he held up to reveal his team’s mascot. “When in Rome.” He tossed it to me and eyebrows raised, waited.

There was a beat before I caught on and conceded, “You want me to put it on?”

He pursed his lips giving me a dramatic look as he gazed around the kitchen exaggeratedly. My eyes followed his only to see a shit-ton of things bearing his team’s logo and mascots—a calendar, magnets on the fridge, dishes, plaques and several trophies in a glass cupboard. “Oh.” As I pulled my hoodie off, I disclosed, “I really am a fan. I just like this team too.”

Closing his eyes and looking pained, he put his hand over his heart and dropped his chin to his chest as if disappointed. Then raising his head to look at me, he shared, “Did you even see our games against them this year?” I bit my lip and shook my head somberly then laughed when he bugged his eyes out at me as if I’d committed the worse sin ever. “Gimme that.” He seized the hoodie from my hands and walking toward the oven, announced, “We’re burning it.”

“No!” I cried, giggling as I took it back from him. I then folded it and put it on the chair where I’d set my purse.

“You wouldn’t want me coming into your bakery with a bagful of goodies from, say Baked and Wired, would you?” I narrowed my eyes watching him open the oven to check on the food. Upon turning and seeing my sour face, he concluded, “I thought not.” He winked at me again and I felt my stomach flutter. Yeesh. “Would you like me to show you around?” he asked.

“Yes! I’d love that,” I blurted, because I truly was curious about this humongo house of his, and saw my excitement made him grin and flash his straight pearly whites.

He reached for my hand but curled his away at the last second acting as if he were stretching his arm, and I realized he was as wary about things as I was. Had he been hurt too and was now just as cautious as I was? Many questions raised here.

He ordered, “Follow me,” and I did just that as he walked me around the enormous island. When he stopped, he revealed, “This is the kitchen.”

I snorted. “Nice.”

He then led me into the dining room. “Where I eat all my gourmet meals.” He tilted his head to glance down at me. “Not really. I eat at the bar in the kitchen. And gourmet usually equates as protein and carbs, like roasted chicken and broccoli.” There was the playful wink again which concerned me because my stupid stomach fluttered once again. Fluttering anything on me at this point when it came to him was not good, so I decided to write it off as he had a tic. 

The family room was next with its huge flat screen TV on one wall. “Where I sit and cry watching the teams that are still in the playoffs,” he admitted. In the next room, he said, “Formal living room which I’ve never gone into except to show people.” Walking across the hallway and going inside another room, he reported, “Parlor.”

“Parlor?” I questioned curiously.

“Mom says it’s a sitting room. I say it’s a place to put people’s coats when I have guests over.” He shrugged and led me to another room. “Living room where…all…the…living takes place.”

I chuckled. “You’re pretty funny, Castle.”

“You can call me Calder if you want,” he offered as he led me to an elevator.

An elevator!

“Seriously?” I asked in amazement.

“Yep. My niece Tinley loves playing on it.”

We rode to the second story where he took me through all seven bedrooms and six bathrooms. Good lord. When we entered the fourth bedroom, my phone rang and I excused myself.

“Something bad happened,” Mara claimed when I answered.

“Mar. You should see his house. He has an elevator!”

“He does not.”

“He does! His house is gigantic! He showed me the first floor and then the sauna and weight room in the basement, which took us like thirty minutes to see all of that before we even got to the second floor!” I divulged.

“Jeez, how many floors are there?”

“Three. This is crazy. It’s all so beautiful too.”

“So you don’t need my help then?” she asked.

“No, I think I’m good. But thank you. I’ll tell you all about it in the morning!” I said and we hung up.

“Sorry about that,” I offered as I went back into the bedroom where he straightening a painting on the wall.

“Let me guess. That was Mara, who you told to call to give you an out in case things weren’t going well?” My mouth dropped open but I quickly closed it when he winked again.

Tic. It had to be a tic.

I shrugged nonchalantly and followed him through the rest of the bedrooms.

In the elevator again, as we rode up to the third floor he asked, “You ready for this?”

“Uh,” I mumbled because I didn’t know what to expect.

Please don’t let it be a clown or a giant spider or a giant nuclear-mutated cockroach or an ill-fitting bra, I listed off all the things that scared me inside my head.

But when the door opened, my mouth hung open yet again.

Leading me out, he announced, “The ballroom.”

“Please tell me you didn’t have this house built. That all this stuff was from the previous owner.”

“Whaaaat? It was all I could think about as they built it. I need a ballroom!” He then snorted. “Yeah. Bought as-is.”

“You have a ballroom,” I whispered.

He scratched the side of his neck. “I have a ballroom.”

“Wow.”

It was gorgeous. And huge. It spanned the entire third floor and I couldn’t stop staring at the beautiful wood floor. Matter of fact, the entire house had almost all wood floors that were just stunning, but seeing one laid out in probably 2200 square feet was jaw dropping.

Leading me to what looked like a doored room with four walls that was just in the middle of the ballroom, he opened the door and I saw a staircase.

“Come on,” he said, this time taking my hand and tugging me with him.

I waited for my freak-out to hit, and when it didn’t, I was surprised. A hotter than hot guy was holding my hand and I was cool with it. Progress! 

At the top of the stairs was a room with windows all around and two sets of French doors on opposite walls. Going out one set of doors, we were then standing on the freaking roof.

“Observation deck for…observing,” he shared.

Wow. This house was spectacular. Looking up, I saw the sky was clear and the stars were in abundance. I hadn’t realized his house sat on a hill when I arrived, but gazing out I now saw the lights of the city from where we stood.

“I can see the Washington Monument!” I said and I heard him chuckle. “This is amazing,” I uttered breathlessly. If this were my house, I’d be up there every morning drinking my coffee watching it snow.

After several minutes, he said, “Dinner’s probably done. Ready to go down?”

I nodded, gazing at the view one last time before going back inside the room that held the staircase.