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Caleb chuckled. “Yeah.”
“The basics, I guess. Watching TV, reading. But if I had to pick just one thing, it’d be woodworking.”
That got Caleb’s attention. He had his mouth full, so he covered it with his hand as he said, “Really?”
I nodded. “I’m not great at it or anything, but I’ve managed to not lose a limb yet, so I think in my case that makes me a semi-professional.”
“Wow. So what do you build?”
“Furniture, mostly.” I nodded at the kitchen. “I did those cabinets. And that shelf in the bedroom. The headboard too.”
Caleb’s eyes shifted to the cabinets. “You made those?”
I nodded. “I learned from my grandfather when I was a kid. I inherited all his tools and equipment when he died. Martha Stewart is how I stayed connected with my mom, and woodworking kept me close to my grandfather.”
“What about your father and grandmother?” Caleb asked.
“My father always wanted me to join the military, since he, his father, and his grandfather had all been enlisted. As for my grandmother, I have this habit of collecting take-out menus. Doesn’t matter if I’m just in the area for a job or something, I’ll keep any take-out menus I order from. I have drawers full of them at home.”
Caleb smiled. “And your sister?” He blanched almost instantly and dropped his fork. “Oh God, Jace, I’m so sorry… that was… that was…”
He made a move to get up, so I quickly grabbed his hand. “It’s all right, Caleb. I do have something of hers that I keep with me.”
He settled, though he still looked flustered and embarrassed. “Maggie has always been an amazing artist. She never wanted to actually sell her art, which is why she’s planning to go to Georgetown for their art and museum studies program. She’s hoping to get a job working at the National Gallery of Art in D.C. when she graduates. When she was about seventeen or so, instead of buying me a birthday present that year, she drew this butterfly for me – butterflies were kind of her thing. I kept that drawing with me no matter where I was. But after she disappeared, it wasn’t enough… I felt like to get her back, I had to keep her even closer to my heart.”
I let Caleb’s hand go and then stood up. I peeled my T-shirt off and watched as Caleb’s eyes went wide.
“Oh my God,” he whispered, then he was climbing to his feet. I wasn’t surprised when he reached for the tattoo on my chest. “It looks alive,” he murmured as he drew his finger along the edge of one of the wings of the butterfly that was tattooed to the left of my heart. The design spread out across most of my pectoral muscle.
“It’s a 3-D tattoo,” I explained. I smiled as he shook his head in disbelief. I’d had the same reaction the first time I’d seen the completed tattoo in the mirror. It was made to look like the delicate creature had merely landed on my chest and could fly off at any moment. The tattoo artist had done an amazing job of capturing Maggie’s design.
“It’s beautiful. Your sister is so talented.”
I tried to focus on Caleb’s words, but admittedly, it got more difficult as he continued to trail his fingers all over the butterfly. He clearly had no clue what he was doing to me, because he stepped even closer to me and dropped his face so close to my skin that I could feel his warm breath. “So beautiful,” he repeated. He was so lost in studying the tattoo, that his fingers slid unnoticed to my nipple. I wasn’t able to successfully hold back a rush of air when the pad of his finger slid over my sensitive flesh. The sound caught Caleb’s attention, but instead of jerking back, he held there for a moment, then slowly looked at his own fingers.
And then, God, he started playing with me.
I trembled as pleasure spiked throughout my entire body. From the way Caleb’s lips parted and his thumb stilled over my nipple, I knew he knew what was happening to me.
“Caleb,” I breathed, though I wasn’t sure what I wanted to tell him.
I knew what I was supposed to tell him – that he needed to stop.
But my traitorous brain just had me repeating his name in a voice I barely recognized as my own.
Caleb’s hand slid down my body and settled on my waist as his gaze stayed on my nipple, which had tightened under his touch. I knew what he was going to do, but I didn’t even try to stop him.
His moves were slow and deliberate, but held a hint of uncertainty in them. As his lips landed in a gentle kiss just to the right of my nipple, his hand slid around to my back. His other was resting on my hip. I told myself not to do it, but I dropped my hand to the back of his head anyway. Caleb chose that moment to lift his eyes.
