TONY: Slow Burn (Raging Fire Book 1), Kallypso Masters [classic novels TXT] 📗

Save my baby!

The scream split the air and the spellbinding waters taunted him to jump in and save them until Tony finally broke free of its lure and forced himself to turn around and alter his direction back to the apartment to avoid having to cross the river again later. Once off the bridge, though, he collapsed onto a park bench, breathing heavily. Maybe going for a run hadn’t been the best thing to do after all.

Needing a distraction and remembering the earlier phone call, he pulled his phone out of his pocket.

Carmella.

Or Carm, as she preferred to be called. She’d left a voicemail. The ridiculous way his chest pounded confused him. Maybe it was from his run. Thankfully, he hadn’t answered the call when it came in. His nerves were too raw to talk with anyone, especially her, but he wanted to hear her voice, so he pushed play.

“Hi, Tony. I hope you’re doing well. Just wanted to let you know that I’ve come up with a couple of fun games we could play at Angelina’s birthday party. So don’t worry about a thing. Looking forward to seeing you at the party!”

He listened to the short message three times. With each replaying, her soft, sweet voice wrapped around his heart and melted something cold and hard that had settled inside him over the past two weeks.

Perhaps you can find a workout buddy.

Lisa’s words rattled through his brain, and he immediately thought of Carm, but didn’t think the workout he had in mind was what Lisa had meant.

However, he didn’t have any plans after his next shift, or ever these days. Maybe he’d drop in at her resort and surprise her Thursday evening. The possibility of seeing her again lifted his spirits even more than her voicemail had.

But suddenly, he didn’t want to take a chance on missing her. He needed to see her. He texted her back.

TONY: Sorry. Out for a run. Join me for dinner Thursday? Would love to hear your ideas.

He told himself he owed it to Carm after dropping the ball on the party planning.

His phone rang again almost immediately. He’d hoped she’d text rather than call but couldn’t pretend he wasn’t near his phone.

“Hey, Carm.” He suddenly felt tongue-tied. What was wrong with him?

“Hi! I thought a conversation would be quicker than a text thread. Dinner sounds great. How does seven sound to you?”

“Perfect. Meet you in the lobby at the resort?”

“Why don’t you come to my condo? I’ll text you the address for your GPS.”

She’d just invited him to her place? Don’t read anything into it. This isn’t a date. “I don’t want you to cook. This is my treat.”

She laughed, the sexy, throaty sound making his balls tighten. “You don’t have to worry about that. I rarely cook.”

Tony loved cooking—well, used to—but wouldn’t make the mistake of offering to invade her kitchen. Cooking for a woman might send the wrong message about where he wanted this relationship to go. She was practically a sister to him.

Okay, that was a stretch, because his body sure didn’t think of her as a sister. Not one bit.

But taking her to bed like he might some other woman he took out wasn’t an option. So stop thinking about having sex with Carmella.

“Choose your favorite restaurant, Carm—someplace away from the resort.”

“Dimitri’s, if you like Greek,” she responded without hesitation.

“I love food. Period. That sounds great. I’ll make us a reservation for seven-thirty. Pick you up at seven.”

“It’s a date.” After a pause, she added, “I mean…um…see you then.”

Despite that last bit of awkwardness and Tony’s wandering mind, when he said good night and ended the call, he realized his gloomy thoughts from earlier had vanished. He stood and began the jog back to his apartment with more of a bounce to each step. Maybe getting away from Aspen Corners and all its reminders for the evening was just what he needed.

Tony didn’t analyze his feelings for Carm any further but reminded himself that this was not a date!

Carm scrutinized her image in the mirror, checking out the third outfit she’d chosen for her dinner with Tony. The black cocktail dress came to a few inches above the knee. Was she too dressy? Should she change into slacks and a blouse instead? This seemed a little more like something she’d wear on a date—and this was anything but. Right?

Maybe she should change into something more casual.

But the doorbell rang before she could implement that change. Seven on the dot. She checked off the punctual box in her mental checklist of important things in a man.

Smoothing nonexistent wrinkles from the slightly flared skirt, she made her way from the bedroom to the living room, checked the peephole, and found Tony staring downward while waiting for her to answer.

Opening the door, she saw that he’d also chosen something a little snazzier than casual, so she no longer felt overdressed. His white button-down shirt was open at the collar, revealing tantalizingly tanned skin at his throat. The sleeves had been rolled up twice—perhaps to give him a slightly more casual look—and the sprinkling of dark hair on his arms made her want to reach out and stroke them.

Slow down, girl!

His black jeans hugged his legs and with his steel-gray cowboy boots, the man exuded sexuality.

When her gaze returned to his face, she caught him doing a slow roam down her body too, heating her skin in his path. When he met her gaze and smiled as if in appreciation, her stomach flip-flopped a little. She hadn’t been out with a man in so long, her body didn’t know how to act with someone who was just a friend—practically family.

She reminded herself once again that this wasn’t a date.

Carm returned his smile, then suddenly remembered her manners. “Come in, Tony.” She stepped back and waved him inside. “Can I fix you something to drink after the long drive?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.”

“The restaurant’s only five minutes from here. If