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In the bathroom, he set the shower to scalding and got in while it was still warming up. He made quick work of washing his hair, which was short but still much longer than usual. Normally, he kept it shaved close to better mask the fact that a section at the base of his skull no longer grew right, but he’d slacked off the past month or so and hadn’t gotten around to doing it.
When he was done with his hair, he took longer washing his body. He stretched to reach the rough, twisted skin of his back and right shoulder. He scoured his hands, his fingernails, his feet, his armpits, his dick. And then he did it all again. Harder. Caine wanted the grease gone from working on his bike the night before. He wanted the sweat gone from helping out at the track all day. He wanted every bit of the sheer fucking worthlessness gone that had built up around him from a lifetime of cruel words and despicable acts.
If he was going to show up at Emma Kerry’s house, he wanted all of it gone.
That feeling was almost certainly why, once he was dried off and dressed again, he didn’t bother trying to eat, not even a shake. As a kid, he’d done everything he could to avoid giving the monsters who’d run his foster home the satisfaction of seeing him cry or beg or yearn. Including for food. By the age of twelve, he’d already worn hunger like a badge of honor. Now, his system handled stress by shutting down any appetite he might’ve still possessed. Shutting it down hard. Which was one of the reasons he didn’t often join his brothers in meals at the clubhouse. That was better than being asked questions about why he wasn’t eating.
By the time he was knocking on Emma’s door, he was all kinds of on edge. Which was just fucking perfect.
The heavy click of the new deadbolt sounded. The door swung open. And then there she was.
Blue eyes going wide, a slow smile brightening her face, and so fucking pretty in a soft pink sweater and a pair of form-fitting jeans that showed off the sweet, feminine curves of her hips. Sitting in the crook of Emma’s arm, Chewy’s furry tail wagged in a steady beat. “Caine.” Her voice was full of pleasant surprise. “Hi. Uh, come in.”
Why did he suddenly feel like a teenager? Bumbling through talking to a girl for the first time. “Oh, uh, no. I just—”
Beeping rang out from somewhere inside. “Come in, come in. Sorry, that’s the timer on the oven.” She turned away from the door and made for the kitchen.
For a moment Caine stared at the empty spot where she’d just stood, and then he heaved a breath and stepped inside. Where it smelled amazing. Like garlic and baked cheese. His stomach squeezed, hunger rearing its ugly head.
Little noises reached him from the kitchen—a dish against the counter, the oven door closing, Emma talking to the dog as its nails clicked on the floor. But Caine hung in the living room, close to the door. While he waited, his gaze landed on the Christmas tree and a photo ornament shaped like a snowflake. He leaned in. It was a much-younger Emma with an older woman. The family resemblance was plain to see.
“Hey, sorry,” Emma said, rushing back into the room.
Caine reared back from the tree and found Emma watching him. He held out the box. “For you,” he blurted.
A little smile grew on her face. “What’s this?”
“A gift. From Haven,” he rushed to add. “’Cause you said you liked them.”
Emma lifted the lid. Her grin was like the sun shining after a storm. Bright and restoring. “I can’t believe she did this. But I’m really glad she did. And you, too.”
“I was just the delivery guy.” He stuffed his hands in his jeans pocket. “And now that I’ve delivered them—”
“Stay for dinner.”
Caine blinked. “What?”
Her cheeks turned the same soft pink as her sweater. It was stunning. Not just because she was so pretty…
Asking him to dinner had made her blush. For a long moment, all he could do was stare. He considered himself better than average at reading people, and that little uncontrollable, physical display of emotion seemed to reveal that she felt like she was laying herself bare.
Over him.
The realization hit him right in the chest, and he had absolutely no idea what to make of it. He was used to people coming at him with wariness or revulsion. And he’d finally come to trust the loyalty his brothers gave him. Hell, even naked animal desire came his way from time to time.
But this sweet vulnerability? Her apparent belief that someone like him wouldn’t want someone like her? That was new territory for him. In every regard.
