Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
CALEB
I t’s nearly nine at night when I finally pull into the garage and ease out of my truck. Gone a a full week this time. I blow out a breath as I gather my thoughts, trying to find the will to get inside the house and drop into my bed.
It’s not even that I’m exhausted, though I am. It’s that I can’t get the craving for a certain Omega’s scent and taste and feel out of my mind—or my body. She might be the one touch-starved, but I need her just as intensely. If Alphas could be touch-starved, I’d bet money that I would be right now. I shove the thoughts away before my dick can get interested and open the door into the mudroom.
Camden’s laugh echoes through the house as I toe off my shoes and drop my bag on the small bench that leads to the garage. Some of the stress eases away from me. A hug from my son and a chance to see Brielle, and I’ll be just about back to normal.
I follow the sounds of my son, smiling as I step into the kitchen. Camden’s sitting on the island, mixing something in one of the large stainless steel mixing bowls my mom gifted us when we matched with Kayla. Ethan stands just beside him, an arm propped on the island strategically placed to keep Cam from falling. His shirt sits in a heap beside them both, sopping wet.
“Next time, let’s make sure that I’m paying attention when you add the water,” Ethan says, humor in his voice.
Camden laughs.
“Didn’t realize you took up bread making,” I say.
Camden looks up and squeals, raising his hands in excitement—and tossing a spoonful of flour onto the floor in the process.
Ethan’s voice is dry. “Your family convinced him he wanted homemade cinnamon rolls in the morning. I promised I’d do my best.”
I can’t help but laugh. “Want me to finish them out for you?”
Ethan hates baking. I’m not overly fond of it, but I’m leagues better than him. To my surprise, he shakes his head.
“I’ve got it,” he says. “My plan is to just make a giant loaf instead of individual loaves anyway. Like pull-apart bread.”
Camden starts to stand, but Ethan stops him. I cross the room. Camden launches himself at me, the spoon hitting the side of my head as he collapses against my chest.
“Papa!” he says.
The happiness in his voice has the exhaustion melting away from me. I hope he never loses the excitement he has over seeing either of us. It’s a small piece of Kayla we still have.
The thought doesn’t burn as much this time.
“Papa, I got to see Bri yesterday with Emily. We played with chalk and bubbles and she let me help put flowers in a vase in her house.”
Ethan’s mouth tightens at the mention of Brielle. He turns away, grabbing another spoon from the drawer and finishing what Camden abandoned. I ease Camden back onto the counter.
“I’m glad you had so much fun,” I say before kissing the top of his head.
His smile is radiant.
“Let’s get this mixed, kid, because it’s your bedtime,” Ethan says.
Camden turns away from me, scooting across the island until he’s holding the large bowl again.
“You want tonight off?” I ask Ethan.
He shakes his head. “It’s fine.”
With a nod, I pull out my phone and send a quick text to Brielle.
Can I take you out tonight?
I walk around the island so I can kiss the top of Camden’s head again.
“I’ll see you in the morning, bud,” I say.
He smiles and leans into me. “Love you, Papa.”
My phone buzzes with an incoming set of texts. They’re all from Brielle. Nerves claw up my throat in a way they haven’t in years.
You’re back? Mel said it was probably tomorrow.
I mean, yes. Definitely.
What should I wear? And where should I meet you?
I grab my bag from the mudroom and drop it on the floor of my closet instead, stripping out of the sweats I’d switched into as soon as I’d gotten my plane stowed away. As I’m double-checking my hair, I send a quick text back to her.
Something to go out in. I’ll grab you in twenty.
I grab my keys and head back toward the truck, smiling as Camden’s laughter follows me all the way through the house.
Brielle crosses her arms as she bites her lip, her eyes darting between me and the half-full dance floor behind me. It makes her tits press against the low neckline of her semi-transparent black top. Cinnamon bleeds out from me at the sight, but I don’t bother hiding it. Every few minutes tonight has had me responding to her on such a primal level.
Apparently going out in Denver means something different than here in Wyoming.
I’d expected to see her in a pair of jeans and a dressy top, similar to what I’d donned or what most people wore to the rodeo a couple weekends ago. Instead, she’d walked onto the porch in a black pencil skirt with a side slit nearly up to her hip and a lacy top that shows off a simple purple bralette underneath.
It’s a good thing I hadn’t gotten a chance to get out of the truck to open her door. Otherwise we probably wouldn’t have made it all the way to one of my favorite bars in Jackson.
We’ve spent the last hour or so sitting at one of the high top tables scattered around the edges of the place. And now I’ve spent the last five minutes trying to convince her to dance a bit with me. It’s not something I’ve ever had a woman resist before.
“You don’t need to know any of the steps,” I say, holding out my hand. Her gaze lands on it like it’s a snake readying to strike. “There’s tons of other people just learning how to do the dances.”
She purses her lips. I take a step closer to her as the music changes. I palm her waist and pull her into me until every inch of her torso touches mine. She’s so damn tiny.
“I’ll step on you,” she says. Her voice doesn’t have any fight in it, though.
“No you won’t,” I assure her. She cocks an eyebrow. It takes all my control to not smirk. I’ve just about convinced her. “A good partner that can lead makes all the difference.”
An emotion flashes across her face, moving too quickly for me to identify. Her look grows more brittle than before. I cup her chin and trace her lips with my thumb.
“You’ll have fun with me,” I whisper. “I promise.”
Her eyes search mine, and I hold my breath as I take a step away from her and hold my hand palm up again in silent request. She breathes a heavy sigh as she rests her palm against mine. I don’t waste a second, guiding her until we’re in the middle of the dance floor, out of the way of the more experienced dancers that’ll take up the edges.
It’s like the DJ knows I’m trying to convince her that dancing can be fun because the song slowly fades out, morphing into something slower and more sultry, clearly intended to have couples partnering up.
I wrap my arm around her waist, keeping her pressed against me, as I lead her into a simple two step. She relaxes into me after the first bit of the verse, the worry in her eyes melting away.
“How was the fire?” she asks.
“Big,” I say. “It’s been really dry this year, so it’s pretty easy for them to get out of control.”
She nods. I guide her into a spin, and she giggles for a heartbeat. I can’t help but grin, happiness lighting my chest.
“Will you have to go back out?” she asks as I gather her into my arms again.
I shrug. “Maybe. It’ll depend. My lead knows I’m not really wanting to work more than a week at a time if I can help it. Which is only something I can manage because I’ve been doing this for so long. Before we had Cam, I’d be gone all summer.”
She tilts her head but doesn’t say anything.
“So, if after my reset, it’s still needing air support, I’ll probably go back. But between now and then, lots can change. I wouldn’t be surprised if we see several more fires start before July Fourth.”
“How long is your reset?” she asks.
The song fades out, and I ease us into a dance that matches the new song’s tempo a bit better. She stumbles a bit, and I apologize. She shakes her head and bites her lip.
“A week.” I focus on answering her question because otherwise I’m going to have her pinned to the bathroom wall in the back of this place like she’s a casual fuck and not my literal soulmate. Even the thought has my dick getting interested. I search for something else to chat about.
“Camden mentioned you hung out yesterday,” I offer.
She smiles, a light in her eyes I haven’t seen before as she nods.
“You’re really comfortable with him.” I let the unasked question hang between us.
“My closest friend in Denver has twin girls. I’ve known them since they were born.” She shrugs. “I’m pretty used to being the aunt.”
She hadn’t lost a child in the wreck that killed her husband, then. Thank God.
“What about being the mom?” I ask.
She stops dead, her eyes widening. I don’t push her, don’t try to get her dancing again. But I don’t drop my arms, either, keeping as much of my skin on hers. I trace her chin with my thumb, and her throat ripples with a swallow.
“I might be persuaded,” she says after a full minute. “It’s something I’ve always wanted, though the last six months have dulled the desire for it.”
With a nod, I twist my hand into her hair and kiss her. When she’s breathless and squirming against me, her hands twisting into my shirt, I pull far enough away to kiss the tattoo behind her ear.
“Come home with me?” I ask.
I don’t try to calm my dick down when she nods. Cinnamon explodes around us, following us as I guide her off the dance floor and all the way to my truck.