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“Poor Sabrina. She’s such a wonderful person. How can anybody do that to her?” My heart breaks for Sabrina and what she’s been through.
“I’ve been doing this job for years, and I still can’t figure out what makes evil lurk in the hearts of some and not others. When Jasmine showed up at the station and told Zeke and me that she thought someone was trying to kill her, I figured she was overreacting. Not ten minutes later, while Zeke was walking her to her car, a drive-by shooting aimed at Jasmine happened.” He closes the dishwasher, leaning his hip against the counter. “You tell me, babe, how does greed become so nasty that it turns to murder?”
“I have no idea,” I murmur, thinking of the terror Jasmine must have felt in that moment.
“Of course you don’t, and you know why?” He doesn’t pause for my reply. “You’re good through and through. You’re a natural nurturer. Even with Malcolm Taylor, your first instinct was to get him talking, to understand the man’s pain. After it all went down, you wanted to get him help. The world needs more Gwendolyn Honeytons.”
I can feel my cheeks burning at his compliment. “Thank you. I was really scared.”
“Sure, but you talked him into letting the kids go. Then you talked him into letting everyone else leave, but you stayed. Why?” Caleb comes closer and tucks a stray hair behind my ear.
“They all had families. People were worrying about them. And by the time he let them go, I got this feeling that he didn’t want to hurt me. He was upset and not thinking straight, but he wasn’t a raging lunatic.”
“The man had a gun.”
“It wasn’t loaded.”
“You didn’t know that.”
“True.” I lower my head, biting my lip. I try not to think too hard about the moment when Malcolm came through the door shouting for Joshua, who I found out later was his deceased son.
“You did have someone who was worried sick. You just didn’t know it because I was too stupid to tell you. I was out of my mind with worry, and it was the guys who kept me calm and thinking straight in order to get you out.” Caleb takes me in his arms. “I care, and from the looks of how today worked out, I’m thinking you have an entire family that’ll be concerned for you.”
“Let’s hope I’m never in that position again, but I promise if I am, I’ll negotiate my release first,” I say, trying to lighten the mood.
Caleb’s not having it. “Never again, baby.”
Judging by the tone of his voice, it seems prudent to simply nod and let this go for the moment.
* * *
Caleb
All day, Gwen’s been catering to my friends and family. My culinary skills are limited, but I can manage a couple of steaks on the barbecue and a couple of potatoes. It also gives Gwendolyn some alone time.
“Tonight, we’re going to my place for dinner,” I tell her.
She raises her brow, tilting her head to one side. Then in a sassy voice, she says, “Will it be edible?”
I attack with tickles and her laughter peals through the room.
“Stop! Stop!”
“You think I’d let you starve?” I tease. I stop the tickle fest, but kiss her soundly on the mouth.
“You’re the one who alluded to not being able to cook,” she reminds me.
“I’m grilling.”
When she smiles, I swear it’s like the heavens open their gates and a brilliant light shines through. “What can I bring?”
“Not a damn thing. Take some time for yourself. Have a bubble bath, read, do whatever you like. Come by for six thirty.” I drop my mouth to her ear. “Bring a bag, baby. I want you to stay the night.”
She nods, but damn, doesn’t she turn the brightest shade of pink. It only makes me hotter for her. Her innocence is like a magnet. The way she clings to me when I kiss her, or the way she hesitates before letting go and matching my passion is an aphrodisiac that can’t be replicated. It’s all Gwendolyn.
Before I go, I want to leave her with a taste of what’s to come this evening. A make-out session on the couch, like a couple of horny teenagers, isn’t what I was going for, but somehow, that’s how I feel. Not that Gwendolyn is making any objections, even when I lift her shirt and wrap my lips around her bra-clad nipple and suckle. A groan of need rises from her throat, spurring me on to replicate the sound when I give my attention to its twin.
Her eyes close, her lips are parted, and her breathing becomes more labored by the second. If I keep going, I won’t be able to stop. I force myself to pull back, kissing my way back up to her mouth, cheeks, and earlobe.
