Chapter 7
CHAPTER 7
T aylor stepped into the Italian restaurant in the hotel’s lobby, sighing at the delicious aroma of garlic, tomatoes, and freshly baked bread that greeted her. After a full day of meetings and presentations, all she wanted was a quiet meal, a glass of wine, and a few moments to herself.
A few moments. That was all she wanted. A few moments where her face didn’t feel like it was frozen in a polite, welcoming smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. A few moments where she didn’t feel like she was on a stage, auditioning for a part she wasn’t even sure she wanted.
And most of all, a few moments where she wasn’t constantly looking over her shoulder, wondering where Caleb was, wondering if he was watching her, wondering if she’d catch him looking.
Pretending she was fine—calm, unaffected—was exhausting. All she wanted was a sliver of peace long enough to catch her breath and silence the chaotic swirl of emotions he always seemed to stir up.
Approaching the ma?tre d's desk, she politely smiled at the sharply dressed man behind it.
“Good evening,” she said. “A table for one, please.”
“Of course,” the ma?tre d’ replied, scanning his seating chart.
Before he could say more, another voice interrupted from behind her.
“Table for one,” the voice drawled.
Taylor stiffened, the familiarity of that voice sending a ripple down her spine. She turned, and there he was—Caleb Burnett, his crooked smile and infuriating charm as maddening as ever.
“Seriously?” she said, crossing her arms. “Are you following me?”
He tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “No. What can I say? Great minds think alike.”
The ma?tre d’ cleared his throat, glancing between them. “I’m sorry, there is a large convention here. We only have one table available for the next three hours.”
Taylor blinked. “One table?”
“Yes,” the ma?tre d’ said with an apologetic smile.
The smell was overwhelming, and her stomach growled like she’d just entered the lion’s den.
Her gaze shot to Caleb, who looked far too amused by the situation.
“Well,” Caleb said, his tone light, “looks like I got here first.”
Taylor narrowed her eyes. “That’s not true. I was already being seated.”
“You were talking about being seated,” he corrected, his grin widening.
She glared at him, her exhaustion and hunger dampening her patience. “Fine. Take the table. I’ll find another place to eat.”
Her stomach was screaming, no, but her heart was saying walk away, protect herself from the temptation of sitting across the table from him. Having dinner with Caleb felt like opening a door she’d worked too hard to keep shut.
She needed her walls to stay firmly in place, a fortress around her heart, to keep him from reaching the parts of her that were still vulnerable to his charm, his smile, and the memories of what they once had.
Staying meant risking everything. Walking away felt like the only way to keep herself safe.
The ma?tre d’ interrupted with a diplomatic cough. “Perhaps... you could share the table?”
They both turned to him, then to each other, the same look of horror flashing across their faces.
“No,” Taylor said flatly, at the exact moment Caleb said, “I don’t think that’s?—”
The ma?tre d’ gave them a polite but firm smile. “It’s a busy evening. Sharing the table is the only option if you both wish to dine here.”
Taylor hesitated, her stomach growling in protest. Caleb raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to object again. Finally, she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.
“Fine,” she muttered. “But only because I’m starving.”
“Fine with me,” Caleb said, smirking. “I’m great company.”
Sadly, he was right—he had been exceptional company once. He’d been the kind of man who could make her laugh until her sides hurt, who knew exactly how to draw her out of her shell with a teasing grin or a well-timed comment.
But sitting down to dinner with him now felt like walking a tightrope without a safety net. It was a risk she wasn’t sure she should take, one that could leave her more vulnerable than she was ready to be.
She resolved to keep things simple: eat her food, exchange a few polite words, and then excuse herself as quickly as possible. Back to her room, back to her safe bubble where he couldn’t chip away at the walls she’d built around her heart.
Taylor rolled her eyes but followed the ma?tre d’ to the small corner table. Caleb pulled out her chair before sitting across from her, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
“This is going to be fun,” he said, grabbing the menu. “It’s almost like a date.”
“No, it’s most definitely not a date. Keep telling yourself that,” Taylor muttered, flipping open her menu.
The waiter appeared to take their drink orders, and Caleb ordered a bottle of red wine before she could protest.
“You’re assuming I’ll drink with you?” Taylor asked, arching an eyebrow.
“You’re assuming I’d let you drink alone,” he replied, grinning.
She huffed, but the corners of her lips twitched despite herself.
As the wine arrived and they placed their orders, the initial awkwardness began to ebb. The restaurant’s warm glow and the hum of conversation created a cocoon of unexpected ease.
“So,” Caleb said after a sip of wine, “how’s the convention treating you?”
“It’s been productive,” Taylor replied, swirling her glass. “Busy, but good.”
“Good,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “I’m glad to hear it.”
She glanced up, her brow furrowing slightly at his tone. There was no teasing in his voice this time—just quiet sincerity.
Sincerity had always been her weakness. There was something about hearing the truth, raw and unvarnished, that cut straight through her defenses. And Caleb’s words—so honest, so unexpectedly vulnerable—melted a little of the ice she’d carefully built around her heart.
It wasn’t much, just a crack, but it was enough to make her hesitate. Enough to make her wonder if, just maybe, there was still something worth saving between them.
Before she could dwell on it, he tilted his head, a playful glint returning to his eyes. “Do you remember that time in college when we tried to make pasta in your dorm kitchen?”
Taylor groaned, the memory bursting to life in her mind. “How could I forget? You didn’t know the difference between a colander and a pot lid.”
“Hey,” he said, holding up a hand in mock defense. “In my defense, I grew up on a ranch. We didn’t have colanders.”
“You boiled the spaghetti and then dumped it into a bowl of water because you didn’t think it was ‘wet enough,’” she said, laughing.
Caleb chuckled, the sound deep and warm. “It was an experiment.”
“It was a disaster,” Taylor countered, shaking her head. “We ended up ordering pizza.”
“Best pizza I’ve ever had,” Caleb said, his grin softening.
Taylor smiled, the laughter easing the tightness clenching her stomach. “You were a terrible cook. Still are?”
“Absolutely,” he admitted. “That’s why God invented restaurants like this.”
They fell into a rhythm, their conversation flowing as easily as the wine. They reminisced about college—the late-night study sessions, the impromptu road trips, and the friends who still held a special place in their memories.
Taylor found herself laughing more than she had in months, the tension she’d been carrying since the start of the convention fading away.
Why did this feel so natural? Like she’d just met up with her best friend, and they were catching up.
When the waiter brought their meals, they shared bites of each other’s dishes, their banter light and playful.
“You still talk with Annie?” Caleb asked, twirling his fork.
Taylor nodded. “She’s married now. Two kids.”
“Good for her,” Caleb said, smiling. “She always had that ‘settle down and bake cookies’ vibe.”
Taylor chuckled. “And you always had that ‘ride off into the sunset’ vibe.”
He raised an eyebrow, his smile turning thoughtful. “Maybe. But sometimes, the sunset sneaks up on you when you least expect it.”
She looked at him, her laughter fading as something heavier settled between them. The wine had lowered her guard, and for a moment, she let herself really look at him—the lines at the corners of his eyes, the way his hair had darkened just slightly over the years.
“You’ve changed,” she said softly, almost to herself.
“So have you,” he replied, his voice low.
The words hung between them, weighted with unspoken things.
As they finished the meal, Taylor reached for her purse, but Caleb shook his head.
“My treat,” he said, holding up a hand.
“Caleb—”
“Let me do this, Taylor,” he said, his voice firm but kind.
She hesitated before nodding, her lips curving into a small smile. “Thank you.”
He smiled back, and for a moment, the air between them felt electric.
The wine had warmed her insides into a heated puddle.
As they stood to leave, they walked side by side to the restaurant’s entrance with his hand at the small of her back, leaving a warm spot. When they reached the elevators, Taylor pressed the button and glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.
“You’re not going to follow me up, are you?” she asked, her tone teasing.
He grinned, his eyes sparkling with humor. “Depends. Do you think the elevator’s going to get stuck again?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “If it does, you’re paying for therapy.”
The elevator doors slid open, and they stepped inside, the space feeling smaller with him so close.
As the doors closed, Caleb turned to her, his expression softening. “Tonight was nice,” he said quietly.
“It was,” she admitted, her voice just above a whisper.
Their eyes met the air between them thick with unspoken words. Before she could process a coherent thought, he leaned in, his hand brushing her cheek as his lips met hers.
At first, the kiss was soft and tentative, like testing the waters. But as she leaned into him, her hands clutching his jacket, it deepened, and years of longing and unspoken feelings surged between them.
When they finally pulled apart, Taylor’s heart raced, her breath uneven.
“This is a bad idea,” she murmured, though her voice lacked conviction.
“Maybe,” Caleb said, his forehead resting against hers. “But it feels right.”
The elevator dinged, and the doors slid open—but to Caleb’s floor, not hers.
Taylor blinked, momentarily confused, as Caleb stepped back with a crooked smile, gesturing for her to exit.
“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little longer,” he said, his voice low, laced with teasing warmth.
Taylor hesitated for a beat, her body still buzzing from the kiss. She could feel the tug, the invisible string pulling her closer to him, stronger than any sense of logic or self-preservation. Without a word, she followed him out of the elevator, the quiet hum of her heels on the carpeted floor the only sound between them.
The moment the elevator doors closed behind them, Caleb turned to her, his gaze intense. She opened her mouth to say something—she wasn’t sure what—but before she could form the words, he reached for her again, his hand sliding gently to the back of her neck as his lips found hers.
The kiss was different this time—not tentative or testing, but full of pent-up emotion, deep and consuming. It stole the breath from her lungs and sent a shiver down her spine.
Taylor clutched the front of his jacket, her fingers curling into the fabric as she kissed him back, her mind spinning. Her purse slipped from her shoulder, forgotten as it landed softly on the floor.
Caleb broke the kiss only long enough to murmur, “Come on,” his voice husky, before grabbing her purse, taking her hand, and leading her down the hallway.
They didn’t make it far. He paused halfway to his door, pressing her gently against the wall as their lips met again. The soft glow of the hallway lights cast shadows over his face, but his eyes, warm and unguarded, were all she could focus on.
Her heart pounded as his fingers brushed her cheek, her jaw trailing fire wherever they touched. She responded in kind, her hands slipping to his collar, tugging him closer. It felt like the years between them melted away, the tension and hurt replaced by something she couldn’t name which scared and thrilled her in equal measure.
“Caleb,” she whispered against his lips, her voice a breathless plea.
He pulled back just enough to look at her, his forehead resting against hers. “Tell me to stop,” he said softly, his eyes searching hers. “If this isn’t what you want, just say the word.”
Taylor stared at him, her chest rising and falling in time with his. Every logical part of her screamed this was reckless, that she was letting herself get too close, too vulnerable.
But the way he looked at her—the way he had always looked at her—made it impossible to walk away.
She shook her head, her fingers tightening in his jacket. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.
Caleb’s lips curved into a faint smile before he kissed her again, slower this time, savoring each moment. Together, they moved the last few steps to his door.
He fumbled briefly with the keycard, his touch reluctant to leave her even for a second. Finally, the door clicked open, and they stepped inside, the tension between them thick and electric.
Whatever was waiting for them in the morning—questions, doubts, and the complexities of their past—they could wait. Right now, there was only this.
Whatever happened tonight, one thing was certain—it would only last one night. One night of passion that she deserved with the man who once held her heart.