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“Yeah, so what do I do? Should I risk my job and my hard-won equilibrium for the outside chance that we might be good together?” He raked his fingers through his hair. “It’s taken me so long to rebuild my life and find some measure of contentment, and now what? It’s like I’m standing on a cliff, and the ground beneath my feet is beginning to crumble.” Damn, he hated the way his voice came out so strained.
“Hmm. As far as starting a new relationship goes, every single one of us has stood on that crumbling ground.” Dillon studied him. “Personally, I can tell you that having this group to lean on made a huge difference when it came to taking that first step. I went into a new relationship knowing I had a safety net to catch me if everything went to shit.”
“As I recall, your first foray into dating did go to shit,” Margaret quipped.
“Yes.” Dillon nodded slowly. “Yes, things did go south, and I survived. Here I am today, a happily married man with an amazing blended family.” He swept his arm toward Caleb. “That’s what I want him to see, Margaret. Caleb is the last holdout. We’ve all moved on, created new lives, and formed new families.” Dillon’s gaze went around the circle. “Caleb needs to know he can love and be loved again, and it’s okay. He’ll be okay. Our job is to help him realize that taking that first step is worth the risk.”
“You’re absolutely right,” Saskia said, flashing a sympathetic look Caleb’s way. “It’s so worth it.”
Carlos clapped Caleb’s back. “Take the chance, man.”
“Do it,” Margaret said.
“Because you’ll all be there to scrape me up off the pavement if things go to shit?” he muttered.
“Exactly.” Dillon grinned. “Like you were there to pick me up and dust me off after my first disaster.”
“Besides, with your credentials, you could easily find another gig. Don’t let that worry hold you back,” Saskia said. “Weren’t you approached last year by some new talk show to be the director of their band, a band you’d also get to form?”
He nodded. They were right. So, was he using the excuse of not wanting to lose his job as a defense mechanism against the possibility of having his heart broken again?
“Amen,” Carlos said. “Anybody else have anything pressing they want to discuss, because if not, I want to brag about my amazing, beautiful niñitas.” He reached for his back pocket and brought up his phone. “I have pictures,” he said, waving his phone in the air. “They’ve grown since you all helped us welcome our girls into the world.”
“That was so you, Carlos.” Margaret laughed. “Yep. I guess we’re done.”
His mind spinning, Caleb leaned back as his best friends brought out their phones and shared pictures of their families and their happy lives. He exclaimed over the photos, all the while the ache of missing Amy and Ellen reverberated through his very soul. Even if he loved another and started a new family, he suspected that ache would never go away completely.
He was only thirty-two, young enough to start over. What if he did have the chance to be part of a family again, to maybe have another child? Would he take that chance? The grieving parent in him recoiled, as if wanting another chance at parenthood was somehow disloyal to Ellen’s memory. The living, breathing side of him, the man who was wildly attracted to one particular woman, screamed yes.
Spending time with Theresa and her two boys had awakened his desire to be part of a family again. Would all these longings come to nothing? Without a doubt that fruit would wither on the vine if he refused to even take the risk. Still, even if he did make a move, Theresa might not want anything more than friendship with him. Then what?
Try dating someone else? No. All of him recoiled at that notion. He’d always been a one-woman kind of guy. He couldn’t just flip a switch and instantly feel something for someone else.
Caleb looked around at his friends, taking note of their obvious joy. They’d all agreed. He was the last holdout, voted the least likely to jump off that springboard into the dating pool. Could he do this? Could he risk having his heart broken again? Since getting to know Theresa, the thought of facing the rest of his life alone had lost its appeal. The wall of stone around his heart had been breached, and he had no choice but to move forward.
His mind made up, he rejoined the conversations going on around the table and enjoyed a meal out with his friends. Fortunately, the angel and the devil sitting on his shoulders refrained from commenting further.
Chapter Nine
Caleb once again stood in front of his bathroom mirror, showered, shaved, and anticipating Theresa’s arrival. He reached for the expensive cologne and slapped some on. Because … of course, smelling good would magically help him change the trajectory of his relationship with Theresa.
When the time was right, he’d bring up the dating issue with her. Should he tell her he’d like to take things between them to a deeper level, as in more than friendship? Should he admit she was on his mind all the time, even when he dreamed? He’d best leave out the erotic nature of those dreams. Leading with how desperately he wanted her probably wasn’t the best approach. It might even send her running out the door.
He could begin by asking how she felt about dating again in general, see where that conversation led. If she expressed any interest at all, he’d steer the conversation toward offering himself as a possible candidate.
“She’s been through hell. Easing into things slowly would be the best course of action,” he told his reflection in the mirror.
He rubbed his hands together and moved to his bedroom to dress. He planned to take her to a steakhouse for dinner, a local place he’d wanted to try for a while.
Dressed and as ready as he could be, Caleb walked toward his studio to set up his equipment. His doorbell rang, and his nerves lit up like Fourth of July fireworks. He about-faced and headed for the front door. The moment he laid eyes on her, his pulse took off.
“You look great, Theresa,” he said. “Come in.” He opened the door wider and moved aside. She’d put on a little makeup today, including a subtle shade of lipstick. She wore jeans, and a red top with Mexican-style embroidery at the hem, at the end of the short sleeves, and around the neck.
“I feel great,” she said, sliding past him close enough that he caught a whiff of her enticing scent. “Jeremy and Charlie say hi. They want to know when we can do another treasure hunt on the beach.”
“Tomorrow …er … any day you’re free.” Clearly she hadn’t seen the posts and tweets about their last walk on the beach. She seemed relaxed, happy, and utterly sexy-beautiful.
“Would you like coffee, ice tea?” Or me? How cliché was he all of the sudden? “I also have sparkling water?”
