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He was so screwed.
For a little while after lunch, he’d thought he had the Ellen situation sorted, but it had gotten complicated on him all over again. For starters, he’d underestimated how strong his own attraction to her was.
Willpower-flattening strong.
But he’d also misunderstood what he wanted from her. A few hours ago in the driveway, she’d placed her hand on his chest and asked him not to push her around. Not to manipulate her. Not to mess with her head. She’d phrased it as a demand, but her eyes had been so haunted. Richard had done all of that to Ellen, and worse. When her ex-husband drove up, she’d gone as tense and nervous as a mouse who’d just caught sight of a cat.
It was the first time he’d seen her cowed. It only lasted a second before she shifted into Amazon Ellen mode, but that second was long enough to make him despise Richard Morrow.
No one had the right to make his Ellen feel anything less than amazing. Independent. Strong. Intelligent. Beautiful.
His Ellen.
That was when he understood how far gone he already was. He hadn’t even kissed the woman, and he already thought of her as his.
He needed to slow this thing way down. Give her some space, give her reasons to trust him. Make sure she knew he wasn’t in this to take advantage of her. Because his gut told him Ellen was special. If he played his cards right, the two of them could have something together—someth
ing deeper, more important than anything he’d experienced with another woman.
He needed Ellen to know he wasn’t like Richard or Levi or any other variety of schmuck. And as ridiculous as it was, that was why he was out here. Not to fulfill the threat he’d made earlier, but to tell her with his body, with his presence, that he was a solid bet. That he wasn’t going anywhere. That he respected her.
It would probably help him deliver that message if he could stop hitting on her for five fucking seconds, but she was so much fun to tease. When he’d told her he wanted to spank her, she’d actually blushed, which was insanely hot.
A smart man would apologize for sending Bill and Matthias over and ask her out to dinner. He’d keep his fists balled up in his pockets and stay out here on her porch all night long. He definitely wouldn’t push her up against the siding and kiss her hard and deep, letting his hands do all the exploring they were itching to do.
Caleb wished he were a smart man.
The screen door opened, and Ellen appeared in indecently short shorts, a white V-neck T-shirt, and no bra.
“So what kind of pizza did you bring me, anyway?” she asked, turning her back on him to inspect it. “Pepperoni and …?”
“Hawaiian.” The T-shirt had a few darker spots on the back where her skin had wet the cotton. Her legs were four miles long, and the higher his eyes traveled, the better the view got. “Hope you like ham and pineapple.”
“What if I told you I was a vegetarian? Or I already had dinner?”
“It was a calculated risk.”
She lifted the lid of the box and bent over, inspecting the food. Her shorts got shorter. His dick woke up and came to attention so fast it hurt.
“Ellen,” he choked out. “Could you do me a favor and put some real clothes on?”
She glanced over her shoulder. “You show up on my porch uninvited, and now you’re telling me what to wear?”
He tried closing his eyes. No help. His brain projected an image on the back of his eyelids of Ellen bending over.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” he said. There was. Something important. Though at the moment, he had no idea what it was.
“Hmm.” She bent down again to pick up the pizza boxes. “I guess you’d better come inside.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
She opened the screen door and smiled. “Yes, it is.”
Fighting to keep a clear head, he said, “I’m not leaving this porch until you agree to the floodlights.”
“Yeah, fine, you can have the lights.”
“Tomorrow.”
