Chapter 14
“Is it wrong to ask Sammy the seal to throw my phone in the ocean?” ~ Maya
Maya
C aleb shoves his plate away and leans back in his chair. “I’m stuffed.”
“Too stuffed for the dessert I brought from Pirates Pastries? ”
He perks up. “What did you bring?”
“A selection of cookies.” I point to my bag. “You get the cookies. I’ll do the dishes.”
He frowns. “You’re my guest. You don’t have to clean.”
“You cooked. I clean. Those are the rules. I didn’t make them up.”
“We both know I didn’t cook.”
I gather the dishes and pile them together. “You tried and you set the table. Good enough. Now, stop arguing and get the cookies.”
I notice his limp is worse than normal when he walks to the bag, but I don’t remark on it. He already knows he’s limping and bringing it up will not make him a happy camper. I prefer it when he’s a happy camper.
“Shall I make some coffee?”
He scowls at me. “I’ll make it.”
Is he annoyed I’m making myself at home? I’m not trying to invade his space. This is what friends do. When one friend isn’t experimenting with living as a hermit.
Does he regret inviting me? Does he wish he could have his space to himself? Am I overthinking this? Probably.
I find the mugs and hand them to him. His earthy scent surrounds me and I barely stop myself from inhaling his scent into my lungs. I love how he smells. I wish my bed sheets smelled of him.
And now I’m perving on my friend. Knock it off, Maya. Caleb is a friend. Nothing more.
My stomach cramps – nothing more than a friend – but I ignore it. I should be used to ignoring my desire for more with Caleb by now.
I retreat to the sofa in the living room with the plate of cookies. Caleb joins me with coffee a few minutes later.
His eyes light up at the plate of cookies. “I haven’t had a cookie from Pirates Pastries forever.”
“Go ahead. They’re fresh. Parker was pulling them out of the oven when I arrived.”
“Parker?” He raises an eyebrow. “The girl who was a class behind us in high school?”
“The one and the same. She owns the bakery now.”
He bites into a cookie and moans. “Damn. Parker can bake. ”
“Which is probably why she owns a bakery.”
He chuckles. “You are—”
My phone rings and cuts him off. I dig it out of my purse but frown when I notice the number. Why is she phoning me?
I stand. “I need to take this.”
I glance around the cabin but there’s nowhere I can go for privacy. Unless I want to stand in the bathroom – ew. Or outside – too cold. Or Caleb’s bedroom – too much temptation. I end up sitting at the kitchen table.
“Hello.”
“It’s about time you answered,” Mom snipes.
Exaggerate much? The phone rang three times.
“Hi, Mom. What’s happening?” I haven’t spoken to my mom in years. It’s hard to have a relationship with someone when they kick you out of the house on your eighteenth birthday.
“What’s happening is I want you to stop making a fool of yourself.”
A fool of myself? I haven’t made a fool out of myself.
“What are you talking about?”
“You,” she sneers. “Galivanting around the island with Caleb. A man who will never love you.”
Those words hit their mark but I don’t let on. She’d enjoy pouring salt on the wound and rubbing it in if she realized she injured me.
I snort instead. “I haven’t galivanted anywhere.”
“Don’t lie to me,” she hisses. “Everyone on the island knows you went to dinner with his family at Smuggler’s Cove .”
“Dinner and galivanting aren’t the same thing. ”
“You always think you’re so much smarter than everyone else. Where has being the smart girl gotten you? Huh?”
I don’t bother answering. She’s on a rant and won’t hear me anyway. Trust me. I’ve had enough experience with her rants.
“You’re living on Smuggler’s Hideaway all by yourself. You’ll always be all by yourself. Who the hell could ever love you?”
She stops ranting and I wait for her to continue. When she doesn’t, I ask, “Are you finished?”
“Stop making a fool of yourself. You’re embarrassing me and your father.”
She hangs up before I can explain how I’m not embarrassing anyone. How is having dinner with Caleb and his family embarrassing to her? What does she think I did – fawn all over Caleb?
I throw my phone on the table and rub a hand over my forehead where I feel a headache coming on.
“Who was on the phone?” Caleb asks from right next to me and I startle. I forgot I wasn’t alone. Great. Now, I’m the one who’s embarrassed.
“No one.”
“No one?” He raises an eyebrow. “It didn’t sound like no one.”
It’s stupid to lie when he could hear the conversation. Or, at least, my part of the conversation. “Fine. It was my mom.”
His brow wrinkles. “I thought you didn’t have contact with her. ”
“She rings every decade or so to remind me how unlovable I am.”
“Unlovable?” He growls. “You’re not unlovable.”
“Mom thinks otherwise,” I say instead of admitting how true her words feel to me. How else should I feel when the people who are supposed to love me unconditionally don’t?
“It’s their loss. It has nothing to do with you.”
“Oh yeah? It felt as if it had something to do with me when they kicked me out of the house on my eighteenth birthday and told me never to come back.”
“They kicked you out? Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
“You were off at basic training. What were you supposed to do?”
“You could have told me afterwards.”
Admit I’m unlovable to the man I’ve wanted since second grade? I don’t think so. I wave a hand in dismissal. “Forget about it. It’s over and done with.”
“Doesn’t seem to be over and done with. You’re obviously upset.”
As much as I wish I could claim I’m not upset, I can’t. I still long for my parents to love me. They’re my parents. They’re supposed to love me. But they don’t. They consider me a traitor. Because sticking up for what you believe in makes you a traitor.
“Can we move on? I don’t want to talk about my parents.”
“Admit you’re upset and I’ll drop it. ”
I fist my hands on my hips. “Are you serious? You’ll drop it if I say what you want me to say? What kind of bullshit is this? I don’t push you on your issues.”
“You showed up here three times and demanded entrance despite me telling you I wanted to be left alone.”
“And you didn’t let me in, so I dropped it.”
He snorts. “You didn’t drop it. My parents showed up and thought we were a couple.”
I shrug. “We can stop pretending to date whenever you want. I’m helping you out.”
“Help me out now and admit you’re upset.”
I huff. “You’re worse than a dog with a bone.”
He chuckles. “You have no idea how much worse I can get. Say what I want to hear.”
“No. I’m not saying shit. I’m out of here.”
I stomp toward the door but Caleb shackles my wrist and whirls me around to face him. “I’m serious, Maya. If you don’t admit how your parents upset you, they’ll continue to have power over you.”
“What are you? Some psychiatrist now?”
“Nope. I’m a man who watched his girlfriend become devastated by whatever her mom said to her.”
“Fake girlfriend,” I remind him.
“Whatever. You’re my friend. I hate to see you hurt.”
“Then, let me go and you won’t see it anymore.”
“I’ll still be aware of how upset you are.”
I stomp my foot. “I’m warning you, Caleb. Let this go. ”
He leans close until he’s right in my face. “Or what, Maya? What are you going to do?”
“I’ll… I’ll…”
I do the only thing I can think of. I push up on my toes and mold my lips to his. Blackbeard’s tale. This was a bad idea. I didn’t need to know how Caleb tastes. His flavor is as complex as a storm – salty, electric, and utterly consuming.
He licks my bottom lip and I moan.
“Let me in, Maya,” he grumbles.
I can’t resist his plea. I don’t want to. I open and he plunges his tongue into my mouth. He plunders my mouth as if he can’t get enough of me. As if he savors every inch of my mouth. As if I’m the only woman in the world.
He shoves his hard cock against my belly and I gasp before grabbing hold of his shoulders.
I should probably stop him. I should probably run away before he breaks my heart.
But I’m no fool. If this is my only chance to taste and touch and feel the man, I’ve been obsessed with for over a decade, I’m not going anywhere.
I’m holding on for the ride.