13. Aubrey
Chapter 13
Aubrey
“ N ow, this is a truck,” Caleb says. We’ve made it to I-90, the interstate that leads straight into Billings, and Caleb can’t stop talking about how much he loves driving my dad’s old tank of a truck.
“Isn’t she great?” I tap on Big Betty’s dashboard with my knuckle. “Dad’s had her forever, and she just keeps on chugging.”
“They sure don’t make ‘em like this anymore.”
“Dad always says the same thing. Whenever he needs to buy a new truck, he’s going to get the brand-new version of this one.”
“How soon is he planning on getting a new truck? Whenever he does, I’d be tempted to buy this one off him and pay whatever it takes to get it refurbished.” He pauses. “I mean, assuming I’ve kept the cabin, of course.”
Crap. Why hasn’t Caleb made up his mind about that, when it would be in everyone’s best interest for him to keep the lake house? There’s no place quite like Prairie Springs, especially for raising a kid. Why can’t he see that? “I don’t know when Dad will be able to afford a new truck, now that he’s injured. I guess we can cross that bridge, if you decide to keep the lake house.”
A short silence looms between us.
Caleb adjusts his hands on the steering wheel. Clears his throat. “So, tell me, Aubrey, do you have a boyfriend?”
I snort-laugh. “You said that like we were in the middle of a conversation, and I’d just asked you the same question in reverse.”
“You did ask me the same question. Earlier today, right before our walk around the lake. Remember?”
I pull a face. “And you’re only now getting around to throwing the question back at me?”
“I had some phone calls to make, remember? Also, you were annoying the fuck out of me with your goody-two-shoes routine, so I didn’t feel like talking to you anymore.”
I scoff. “If not being willing to lie under oath makes me a goody two shoes, I’ll wear that as a badge of honor.”
Caleb rolls his eyes. “Do you have a boyfriend or not?”
“Why so testy?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Why do you want to know?”
“Why did you want to know the same thing about me?”
“I didn’t. Don’t.”
“Then why’d you ask me the question?”
“I don’t think I did. I think I assumed one of your calls might be to a girlfriend, and you corrected me.”
“Same thing.”
“Not at all.”
“Just answer the fucking question, for fuck’s sake. Jesus Aubrey. Whether you asked me directly or not, you still got the information out of me. Fair is fair.”
I release a dramatic sigh, even though I’m feeling nothing but amused by his ornery tone. “No, I don’t have a boyfriend. I broke up with the only boyfriend I’ve ever had coming up on two years ago.”
Caleb looks pleased. “How long were you with him?”
“From our junior year of high school to almost two years ago, so you do the math.”
Caleb smirks. “Young love. It hardly ever lasts.”
“Especially when your boyfriend smacks you hard across the cheek during an argument.”
Caleb’s lips part. He looks from the highway to me again. This time, with blazing green eyes. “Your ex hit you?”
“Slapped me. With an open palm.”
“Did he do that regularly?”
“Just the once. But that was enough for me.”
“Damn straight, it was.”
“I broke up with him that same night and never took him back, despite him groveling and begging for months.”
Caleb lets out a slow exhale, like he’s trying not to flip his lid. “I’m sorry that happened to you, but I’m proud of you for not giving him a second chance. Those types never change, no matter how much they promise they will.”
“That’s why I left Prairie Springs and went to live with Claudia in Seattle. I wanted a fresh start.”
Caleb’s face goes dark. “He lives in Prairie Springs?”
I can’t help smiling. Caleb suddenly looks like a bomb-sniffing dog on a scent. “He used to. He moved away, shortly after I did. He worked construction for my dad while we dated, so when he slapped the boss’s daughter, he needed to find a new job, pronto .” Trent moved to Billings, actually. The city we’re driving toward right now. Or so I’ve been told by Trent’s sister. But based on Caleb’s murderous expression, I’m thinking it’s probably not the best idea to tell Caleb that additional fact.
“I bet your dad wanted to fucking kill him. ”
“He sure did.”
“Were there any red flags? Or did the smack come out of nowhere?”
“There were red flags, yeah; but I ignored them. Little by little, Trent kept crossing lines and pushing the envelope; until one night: bam. I tried to grab his phone out of his hand because I thought he’d been texting with another girl, and he slapped me across the face so fucking hard, I stumbled back and fell to the ground.”
“Jesus fucking Christ. Did you press charges?”
I shake my head. “I was too embarrassed. Prairie Springs is a small town, and everyone loves Trent and his family.”
Caleb releases a long, slow exhale through his nose. “That’s how it was with my mother. My father smacked her around for years, and she never reported him.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“When I started making good money, I told my mother, ‘No more excuses. It’s time to leave him for good.’ And she finally did.”
My heart squeezes at the look of pride on his face. Clearly, this story—the fact that he was able to help his mother get away from her abuser—means a lot to him. “It sounds like you were a great son.”
Caleb glances at me, his green eyes pained. “Not when it mattered the most, unfortunately.”
I should probably leave it alone and not ask for details, due to the tortured expression on his face. But I can’t help myself; I’m too damned curious. “What does that mean?”
Caleb takes a moment to collect his thoughts, his eyes trained on the highway. Finally, he says, “After my mom got cancer, I moved her into my place, and I was by her side through everything. The band took a hiatus, since I didn’t want to travel. We said no to everything.” He sighs. “But when we were offered a performance slot at a big awards show in New York, my mom told me to go. She said she’d be fine. She wanted to watch me on TV. So, off I went. And it was that very night when Mom unexpectedly took her last breath, while I was three thousand miles away and couldn’t hold her hand, like I’d promised to do.”
My heart is hammering. “You couldn’t have known.”
Caleb turns from the road to me, his green eyes tortured. “It wasn’t a one-off, Aubrey. Me, not being there for someone I love.” He returns his gaze to the road. “Honestly, it was the latest in a long line of fuck-ups.”
“She told you to go. It’s what she wanted.”
His jaw clenches. “Doesn’t matter. I promised I’d be there when she took her last breath, and I broke that promise to her and to myself. Unfortunately, it was totally on-brand for me, though.” He swallows hard. “Before that, I didn’t step up to become a father to Raine. I hid her existence from my family and friends. Before that, I pissed off my bandmates, time and again, in ways big and small, because I didn’t give a shit about anyone but myself. Before that, it was betraying the only girl I’ve ever truly loved. Before that . . .”
The only girl I’ve ever truly loved. Caleb is still talking, but those words suddenly have my undivided attention.
“So, you see,” Caleb says in wrap-up. “My fuck-up with my mother, my fuck-up with Raine . . . It’s all consistent with my lifelong MO of letting people down.”
I take a deep breath. “Humans aren’t perfect. We make mistakes. The good news is you came here to correct your mistakes with respect to Raine. Let that be the beginning of a new era for you.”
Caleb silently takes the exit off the freeway for Billings, and we’re both quiet for several minutes, during which my mind races about that same item on Caleb’s long list of mistakes. Before that, it was betraying the only girl I’ve ever truly loved . Who was she? How and why did he betray her?
Finally, as we’re driving down a major street in Billings, I gather the courage to ask about the titillating topic. “How’d you betray the only girl you’ve ever truly loved? Did you cheat on her?”
“Yes, but it was worse than that.”
I gasp. “ You hit her ?”
Caleb abruptly swivels his face toward me, his green eyes flashing. “Absolutely not. I’d never do that.”
I sigh with relief. “What’s worse than cheating? Did you cheat with her sister or best friend?”
Caleb stops the truck at a red light and stares ahead through the windshield. When he doesn’t speak, I prompt, “How long ago was this?” Still no reply. “Come on, Caleb. I already hate you, so this couldn’t possibly change my already horrible opinion of you.”
To my relief, Caleb smirks at my comment. If I’d said the same words to him yesterday, I’m not sure they would have come across as a joke. Today, however . . . I’m not sure “hatred” still exists in this space, and I’m sure Caleb can feel that. Do I respect this man to my left? No. Do I like him? Not quite. But now that I’ve seen glimpses of actual vulnerability and humanity in his eyes, I have to admit I’ve softened toward him a teeny-tiny bit.
“When did it happen?” I prompt softly. “Let’s start with that.”
“When I was in my early twenties.”
“So, like, well over a decade ago? That’s a long time, Caleb.”
“And yet, I think about it almost every day. ”
The light turns green and we’re off again; and a moment later, Caleb is parking the truck in front of our first destination of the day: a big-box home improvement store. Conveniently, it’s located kitty-corner from the music store where Caleb plans to buy himself a drum kit, so we’ll quickly be able to check off our first two errands before piling back into the truck to drive across town to the sporting goods store.
“Will you tell me what happened?” I ask, as Caleb turns off the truck, making its big engine falls silent.
Caleb sighs. “There’s no point, Aubrey. All you need to know is I’ve hurt anyone who’s dared to love me, other than the guys in my band and a small handful of good friends.” He scoffs. “Although I guess I’ve fucked over my bandmates now, too, with my stunt in New York. Thanks to me, we can’t get insured for a tour, till I complete rehab.”
“Which you’re working on.”
“We had to cancel some really big things, thanks to me.”
“You’ll do them another time.” I touch his arm. “Addiction isn’t voluntary or spiteful. It’s a disease. I’m sure your bandmates understand that.”
He shakes his head. “The thing is, I’m not an addict. I could see the difference between myself and other people in rehab. To some degree, I’ve chosen to be a dick. Chosen to let people down. Chosen to be out of control and selfish.” Emotion washes over his rugged features. “That’s why I’m so determined to make things right with Raine. This is my big chance to finally do something right and good. To become the man my mother thought I was, all along.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, feeling touched by his vulnerability. “How have all the rest of your romantic relationships gone for you, since that one in your twenties? Have you cheated on all your girlfriends, ever since, or have you grown and matured?”
“I’ve only ever had the one girlfriend.”
My lips part in surprise. “You haven’t had a single girlfriend in over a decade?”
“I mean, I’ve dated, sure, but I’ve never promised anyone exclusivity again. My word is worth shit, so why bother?”
Does that mean he’s only ever loved that one time, too? That’d be a shocking thing for a man of thirty-five. Add to that, the fact that he’s been traveling the world with his band all that time, probably doing what he did with Claudia on a running loop, and I suddenly feel like I’ve got a much better understanding of this man. The rockstar who didn’t bother to ask for Claudia’s phone number or to meet with his child before now.
Caleb looks out his side of the truck. “I’ve always known I’m no good at giving love,” he says softly. “And that I’m not a good bet for anyone giving it to me. So, why bother and waste everyone’s time, you know?”
Oh, my heart.
I touch his tattooed arm, making him look at me. “My mother is a school counselor, and she always says, ‘If you keep telling yourself something, then it becomes the truth. And then, it stays the truth, until you start telling yourself something different.’” He seems receptive, so I add, “Since your brain is always going to tell yourself stuff, because that’s how brains work, then why not choose to tell yourself something good? Something productive? ‘I’ve turned over a new leaf. I’m committed to becoming a better man, a great father. A great friend, bandmate, and brother.’ Maybe even a great boyfriend or husband one day. Why not? Everyone deserves love, Caleb.” I grin sympathetically. “Even someone as horrible as you.”
Caleb can’t keep himself from returning my smile, though he’s clearly trying not to do it.
“Manifestation,” he says softly. “My sister believes in that shit, too.”
“So did Claudia. And look what she accomplished. With the help of your money, she manifested a whole new life for herself and Raine. Plus, she got her mother away from her abusive father.”
He lights up. “Seriously?”
“And before that, Claudia finagled her way backstage at her favorite band’s show and wound up having sex with her biggest celebrity crush. So, seriously, don’t knock manifestation till you’ve tried it.” Thick silence fills the cab of the truck, and it occurs to me I totally ruined the vibe by mentioning Caleb having sex with Claudia. But if Caleb truly is planning to raise Raine for the rest of his life, then, sorry, he needs to understand how amazing and wonderful Raine’s mommy really was. “I don’t know how much you remember about Claudia,” I begin. “But she was?—"
“Nothing much,” Caleb interrupts. “I was shitfaced when I hooked up with her. Honestly, it’s all a blur.” He pauses, apparently lost in thought. “I remember smoking a blunt with a pretty blonde in Seattle and talking about Prairie Springs, though. When my lawyer showed me Claudia’s photo, I remembered that part. But that’s about it.”
I should feel offended on Claudia’s behalf. Or maybe vicarious disappointment for her . And yet, the overwhelming emotion I’m feeling is relief that Caleb doesn’t stroke that big dick of his while fantasizing about Claudia, the pretty blonde he banged in Seattle. Claudia, the girl all the boys wanted when we were growing up together in Prairie Springs. Surely, Caleb groans out a different name, every time he strokes that big, thick dick of his; but I can’t deny, as I’m sitting here next to him, it’s a massive relief to find out he groaned out my name before ever groaning out Claudia’s.
“Listen, about Claudia,” Caleb says. “I know she was your best friend, and you feel loyalty to her; but you have to understand, to me, she was?—”
As he’s talking, my eyes happen to lock onto a figure exiting the music store across the street; and the moment my eyes relay the man’s identity to my brain, I gasp loudly, interrupting Caleb, mid-sentence. Throwing my palm over my mouth, I slump down in my seat to avoid being seen.
“What?” Caleb blurts. “What’s wrong?” He turns his head to follow the trajectory of my gaze, to where my ex-boyfriend, Trent, has now stopped a few feet away from the music store entrance to tap out something on his phone. Caleb motions to Trent. “That guy there?”
I nod and whimper. “That’s Trent. My ex-boyfriend.”
Caleb practically snarls. “ The one who punched you ?”
“Slapped me, yes. Very hard.” I slump down even more and a little squeak escapes my throat. What are the odds in a city of a hundred thousand? Although Trent loves music and plays guitar, so I guess?—
Without warning, Caleb unfastens his seatbelt and swings his car door open with a kind of ferocious, alpha-dog energy that makes it clear he’s not planning to invite Trent for a friendly beer.
“Where are you going?” I blurt, causing Caleb to lower his face into the opened door frame.
“I’m going to teach our buddy Trent a much-needed lesson about karma.” With that, he slams the door and marches across the street, while I inch up higher in my seat, enough to peek over the dashboard and watch whatever’s going to happen next.
With my heart going a mile a minute, I watch Caleb, a man on a mission, stride over to Trent. When Caleb reaches his destination, he says something that makes Trent look up from his phone and instantly go wide-eyed. It wouldn’t surprise me if Trent has instantly recognized Caleb. He’s a musician himself who loves music and music pop culture; and I know for a fact Red Card Riot is one of his all-time favorite?—
Holy fuck! Out of nowhere, Caleb just slapped Trent, hard, across the cheek, making him recoil, stumble back, and drop his phone!
I yelp in shock. But only a fraction of a second later, my shock morphs into glee, which prompts me to laugh out loud, involuntarily, at the sheer absurdity of the delicious moment. Seriously, if I’d taken a sip of water immediately before that slap, I would have done a spit-take.
Without another word being exchanged, Caleb trots back to the truck with a wicked grin on his face that makes me guffaw again. This time, he comes around to my side of the truck. After opening the door, he leans his full head into the opening and flashes me a beaming smile that takes my breath away. “You’re welcome.” He winks.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” I blurt, even though I’m elated he did. I peek toward the scene of the crime again, and thankfully, Trent is scurrying away at a hurried clip, rather than coming over here to do God knows what in retaliation. “Caleb, you can’t walk around slapping people on the street.” I don’t know why I’m flogging him, when all I want to do is high-five him. But that’s what my knee-jerk reaction is, so I guess I’m committed now.
Caleb looks at me like I’ve got two heads. “That douchebag slapped you, Aubrey. He deserved that and more.”
I can’t suppress my smile, even though I don’t want to give Caleb a free pass for what he did. Was it delightful? Yes. But it was also a totally unhinged thing for him to do, especially considering his celebrity status. Has he forgotten about Ralph Beaumont and the custody hearing in a month? “What if Trent sues you?”
“He won’t.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do, because suing me would require him to admit what he did to you. And I assure you, he doesn’t want to do that.” Caleb smirks. “Either way, it was totally worth it. If he sues me, I’ll pay him off, like all the rest.”
“ All the rest ? How many people have you slapped on the street like that?”
“Nobody. Not like that. But over the span of my life, I’ve definitely beaten the shit out of more than a couple people who totally deserved it.”
I hate myself for it, but my body is having a tingling, physical reaction to that revelation. I’m never attracted to bad boys. Loose cannons. Men with anger management issues. But, damn, I’m finding it difficult not to be attracted to this one.
I bite my lower lip, trying to stifle my satisfied smile. “What’d you say to Trent, right before you slapped him?”
Caleb chuckles at the memory. “I said, ‘Hey, Trent .’ And he goes, ‘ C-Bomb ? Whoa!’”
Caleb mimics Trent’s starstruck facial expression, and there’s no doubt in my mind Trent’s brain melted into a puddle of goo in that moment.
With a snicker, Caleb continues, “When he put out his hand to shake mine, I said, ‘This is for Aubrey Capshaw, you little bitch.’ And then, I bitch-slapped him.”
I burst out laughing, along with Caleb. What must Trent have been thinking in that shockingly outrageous moment? I’m sure he felt thoroughly disoriented and confused.
“Man, I wish you could have seen the look on his face when I slapped him,” Caleb says with a chuckle. “It was . . .” He makes a classic “chef’s kiss” gesture.
On a personal level, I’m feeling nothing but delighted by this unexpected gift of sweet revenge. But in the context of the impending custody hearing, his behavior was totally unacceptable. “Sorry to seem ungrateful,” I say. “But with Ralph coming after Raine, you can’t do that kind of thing. In a month, you have to convince the judge you’re a fit father, remember?”
“Don’t you think a fit father would defend his daughter, if some guy smacked the shit out of her?”
“In the moment? Yes. But two years later, that’s cold-hearted revenge, Caleb.”
“Justified, though.”
“I’m not your daughter. You don’t even know me.”
He’s not persuaded by my logic. Clearly, he thinks what he did was totally in the right. But after a bit, when I maintain stern eye contact and don’t back down, his gleeful smile slowly fades. “He won’t come after me. But your point is well taken. I’ll be much more careful next time, in light of the hearing.”
“There can’t be a next time! That’s my entire point!”
Caleb shakes his head. “Sorry not sorry, Aubrey. If I find out a guy has laid hands on one of mine, then there’s gonna be a next time.”
One of mine. Not gonna lie, his word choice makes my ovaries vibrate with lust. Nevertheless, I still manage a stern facial expression when I say, “That’s all well and good under normal circumstances. But not when you’re in the middle of a custody dispute for Raine. Prioritize and channel your anger, for her sake. Please . You’re not some random guy. You’re a celebrity with deep pockets. You attract attention, Caleb.”
“No need to beat a fucking dead horse, Aubrey. I heard you. I get it.”
“Do you?” My amusement vanishes. “We won’t get a second chance to convince the judge you’re worthy of Raine, and I can’t beat Ralph on my own. I can’t let you fuck this up for me. Fuck it up for yourself, all you want, since that’s your brand . But don’t fuck it up for me.”
We stare at each other, both of our chests heaving.
“ I won’t fuck this up ,” Caleb grits out, his green eyes flashing. “Like I said, Trent won’t come after me, ‘cause he won’t want to admit he slapped the shit out of you. Why would he ever want to admit he assaulted the sweetest, hottest girl in the entire fucking world? It’s not gonna happen, Aubrey. I’d bet my life on it. So, give it a fucking rest.”
My heart stops. Sweetest? Hottest ? Entire world?
I should be pissed about his certainty. His grouchiness. His loose-cannon behavior. But I’m suddenly feeling nothing but electrified.
“You saw the way he skittered away like a cockroach, rather than staying to fight back?” Caleb says, apparently unaware he’s unleashed a torrent of energy coursing through my veins. “In my vast experience with this sort of thing, that’s a dead giveaway he knew he had it coming.”
I feel the urge to exit the car, bridge the gap between our bodies, and smash my mouth and body against Caleb’s—and then drag him to the closest hotel and get him to groan out my name again, this time with that big dick of his inside me. Somehow, however, through sheer force of will, and also because I’ve never done anything that wild and crazy in my life, I keep my butt in my seat and calmly say, “I appreciate you wanting to avenge me when the opportunity fell into your lap. But, please, promise me, it won’t happen again, at least not before the custody hearing.”
“I can’t promise you that, because I don’t know what the next dickhead might do to deserve whatever I’m going to do.” Smiling wickedly, he leans farther into the doorway, bringing his face, and his lips, mere inches from mine. I could be wrong, since I’ve only ever dated Trent. But it sure feels like he’s non-verbally asking for permission to kiss me.
Goddammit. My body wants to give him the green light, but my brain knows it’s a terrible idea. And so, I lean back, abruptly, causing Caleb to straighten up and clear his throat.
“So, uh, which do we want to do first,” he asks. “Order the lumber for the deck or buy a drum kit?” It’s an unnecessary question. We’ve already talked about ordering the lumber first, and then crossing the street to go to the music store.
“Lumber.”
He opens the car door wide for me, inviting me to step out. “Did you get that list of materials from your dad?”
“I did.” I already told him that . I pile out of the truck, averting my eyes, in case I’m visibly blushing. “I also made a list of all the errands we talked about, so we won’t forget anything.”
“I’d expect nothing less from you.” Caleb shuts the car door behind me and gestures to the home improvement store. “Come on, babysitter. Let’s have some fun boosting the local economy of Billings.”