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“Oh, fine. He’s such a sweet dog.” Theresa sighed. “This is so nice, Caleb. I love watching the bees and butterflies circulating through your garden. It’s so calming, almost hypnotic. I don’t remember a time when I felt this relaxed or so free to ….”
“To what?” he asked, studying her.
“To be completely myself.” She glanced at him, a smile gracing her features. “I don’t have to walk on eggshells around you. You never say mean things to me, or about me. You don’t try to control me, tell me what to do or what not to do, or blame me when things go wrong. You have no idea what that’s like for me after a lifetime of being hyper-vigilant around the men in my life. It’s liberating, refreshing.”
“I’m sorry your experiences have been limited to abusive men, Theresa. Most of us are just regular guys, and we’re decent, nice. We try to be anyway.”
He couldn’t do it, couldn’t bring up dating or make a move on her. Knowing what she’d been through, it wouldn’t be fair. She deserved space to grow and time to find herself. She needed to meet a few good men before she decided for herself what or who she wanted. And while she had that space and time, he’d be there for her. Even if being on the sidelines of her life put him in hell, he’d be a true friend to Theresa.
His heart sank, and so did the level of champagne in his glass. He refilled his flute and hers. “We might as well finish this bottle,” he muttered as the last drop emptied into her glass. “Champagne doesn’t keep well after the cork is out.”
* * *
Theresa studied Caleb as he stared out over his flower garden. Something had upset him. She could hear the change in his tone and see the subtle shift in his expression and in his body language. One thing she’d learned living her entire life with abusive men was how to pick up on a person’s mood. Doing so had been a necessary survival skill.
“What’s wrong, Caleb?”
“Oh, I was just thinking about what your life must have been like. The way your family and your husband treated you makes me angry.”
“You don’t need to be angry on my behalf.” She smiled, hoping to put him at ease. “I’m working my way through all the dysfunction and the trauma from my past. I plan to emerge a strong, healthy person.”
“I have no doubt you’ll do exactly that.” Caleb sipped his champagne and continued to stare at his garden.
He still seemed sad. “My past is exactly that, Caleb, in the past. Please don’t let it ruin our day.”
He nodded, but the muscle in his jaw still twitched. Theresa drained her glass, already feeling a notch or two beyond tipsy. “Come on. Let’s go listen to our song again, and then we can go get something to eat.”
Caleb rose, drained his glass and set it on the table. “I’ll take care of the empties later.”
She set her empty glass beside his and followed him down the hall. She took a seat on the stool while he brought up the recording and hit play. She couldn’t help herself, she sang along, harmonizing as she went.
“Wait,” Caleb ordered. “Give me a minute to make a copy of the original, and then I want you to do exactly what you’re doing now. Harmonize, and I’ll record it over the copy,” he said as he flipped switches and pushed buttons on his equipment. His eyes lit with excitement. “What do you say?” He handed her the headphones and adjusted the microphone.
“Sure. Why not?” Especially when whatever he had in mind seemed to rid him of his anger on her behalf.
A little unsteady on her feet, she remained seated on the stool and brought the microphone closer. He hit play and began recording. Theresa let everything fall away except for the music. She closed her eyes and sang harmony … with herself, something she’d never done before.
“Give me a minute here,” Caleb said. A few seconds later, he hit play, and music filled the space.
Theresa gasped. She covered her mouth with her finger tips, overwhelmed by what they’d accomplished. Her voice, his and hers singing different harmonies simultaneously was amazing. Her eyes misted a little as she gazed at Caleb and stood up. “We did this. It’s ….” She laughed and held up both hands for high fives. “It’s beautiful.” Instead, of high-fiving her, Caleb clasped her hands and drew her off the stool and into his arms.
“Theresa,” he whispered. “I love seeing you like this.” He rested his forehead against hers.
Lord, he smelled so good, and it felt wonderful to be in his arms. “Like what?” She stilled, afraid to break the spell of the moment.
“Happy.” He ran his hands up and down her back. “You deserve to be happy. I want to see you this way all the time. By the way, in case you don’t know this, you’re so damned beautiful you take my breath away.”
“You don’t have to say that, Caleb.” She took a step away, and he drew her back and sheltered her in his arms.
“Yes, I do.” His eyes roamed over her face, and he held her as if she meant something to him. “Believe me, because I’m telling the truth. You are an incredibly beautiful, desirable woman, and you’ve been cheated out of the right to see yourself that way.” His brushed his lips across her forehead.
Pleasurable shivers sluiced through her. She tilted her head back and scrutinized him, stunned by what she saw burning in his eyes. Desire, longing, and maybe even adoration. “No, I’m not, Caleb. I’m way overweight, and I—”
“You’re perfect.” Caleb smoothed her hair back and cradled her face between his palms. “Let me show you; let me worship every inch of you until you believe what I’m telling you is true.”
His touch thrilled her, and heat coiled its way to her center. She went up on her toes and kissed him. Groaning, Caleb kissed her back as if he really did see her as beautiful.
Their kiss deepened. The sound of his heavy breathing, the hardened fullness pressing against her pelvis, and the way his hands roamed over her sent desire and need for him cascading through her. Theresa wrapped her arms around his neck, hungry for more.
