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I navigate around broken tree limbs the whole way to Molly’s condo and wait until she’s safely inside before I turn back toward the lake—where every light in the neighborhood is out. I want a hot shower in the worst way, but I’m not taking one by candlelight in an otherwise empty house.
I run inside, using my phone’s flashlight to make my way to the kitchen. I’ve just located a candle and matches when a knock on the door makes me jump.
That knock is so much creepier with the power out than it would be otherwise.
I struggle to get the candle lit and the knocking starts up again, louder and more impatient.
When I reach the door and look through the peephole, I discover Caleb standing in the pouring rain with his armsfolded across his chest. He isn’t forgiven, but I’m also not going to leave him out there getting soaked. I open the door and move aside to let him in.
“I saw your car pull up,” he says, pushing his hair off his forehead. His eyes fall to my dress. “I was just checking to make sure you guys didn’t need anything.”
It was sweet of him to check. I’m already softening against my will.
“The kids are gone,” I reply.
His eyes go back to the dress. “Were you on a date?”
Scratch that. I am no longer softening.
“Instead of asking about dates, you should be apologizing for this afternoon.”
His eyes narrow. “Apologizing? Why the fuck would I apologize? I’m doing my best to let you go after your fairy tale and you’re...throwing it in my face.”
I let my head fall to the wall behind me. “I was walking back from the deli, for God’s sake. How isthatthrowing anything in your face?”
His jaw locks. His eyes drift over me again. “Was it a date or not? Based on the dress, I assume you’ve got the garter thing on under there.”
“Don’t you wish you knew?” I ask bitterly.
“Yeah,” he says, stepping close. “I do.”
He’s so near that all I can see without craning my neck is the uneven rise and fall of his chest. I want—more than I’ve ever wanted anything—to simply ignore how fucked up and pointless this is. I want to pull him upstairs and pretend that it will somehow be okay. But it won’t. I’ve been miserable, barely hanging on, and I’ve got two children who need all of me and not some sad shell feigning happiness.
“Caleb, I can’t do this,” I whisper. “It’s too hard to get over you and I don’t want to start back where I was a week ago.”
“I don’t want you to get over me.” He moves closer, until hisbody is pressed to mine, his breath rustling my hair. His skin is damp from the rain, but he is warm and solid and the smell of his soap makes it hard to focus. “Because I already know I can’t get over you. Believe me—I’ve tried.”
I swallow hard and shake my head. “I—”
“I want this. I want it too much not to ask you to give me a chance. I don’t know that I’ll ever be what you guys need, but...please let me fucking try.”
Offering totrywouldn’t be good enough, except...I’ve seen him with the twins. He cares about them more than he wants to admit and maybe he just needs to see firsthand that those commitments he doesn’t want to make aren’t so daunting. That he had a very bad break once upon a time, but it doesn’t have to ruin the rest of his life.
And Ican’twalk away without discovering what we could become. I can’t.
I raise my chin toward him, and he takes it for the permission it is. His mouth lands on my mine, his five-o-clock shadow rough against my skin.
My hands go to his waistband, and his small intake of breath—eager,masculine—banishes the last whispers of worry. His fear of commitment, his imminent move...those are problems for another day.
He tugs me tight against him, his cock hard and jutting against my stomach, lips pressed to my neck, and I am suddenly burning alive. I need out of this dress; I need him out of the t-shirt and sweats. I’m dying to feel his bare skin on mine. “God, Caleb...can we go upstairs? Like...now?”
In a second flat, he’s got me in the air with my legs wrapped around his waist, carrying me toward the staircase with one hand and grabbing the candle with the other.
He reaches the top of the stairs and turns, heading straight to my room.
“How did you know where to go?” I ask as he kicks my door open.
He sets the candle on the dresser and tosses me on the mattress, climbing on the bed after me.
