Chapter 44
Chapter Forty-Four
brIELLE
M y stomach tries to come up my throat when Caleb drops the plane toward a tiny landing strip. I can’t help but ball my hands into fists where I’ve tucked them under my legs to keep from accidentally messing with any of the instruments on the panels in front of me. I’ve flown in small planes before. Brett hated flying commercially, and so I didn’t put up a fuss when he’d spend the extra thousands of dollars to fly private whenever we went somewhere. But this tiny little Cessna is leagues tinier than even those jets.
Camden’s giggles crackle through the headset. I twist around, and he waves at me from his perch behind Caleb’s seat. Ethan’s stoic beside him as he holds out an arm, keeping Camden from reaching for me.
“Careful, kid,” he murmurs. “We’re not quite finished yet.”
Camden huffs. The plane bounces a bit as the wheels hit the pavement, and I suck in a quick gasp, trying to hide my nerves. Camden goes back to giggling, looking out the small window.
Caleb’s voice cuts through Camden’s laugh as he talks to whoever is manning the small airport. As he taxis the plane toward a line of much larger planes, I focus on the landscape surrounding us. It’s similar to Jackson though more green. Once the plane is stopped, Caleb leans over and pulls the headset off my ears, resting it on the instrument panel between us. His lips are soft, his hand gentle, as he kisses me and holds my chin to keep me from moving away.
“Can we see the lake first, Daddy?” Camden asks.
Caleb pulls away, a smile curving those sinful lips.
“Lake?” I ask, breathless.
Camden gasps. “Oops. Sorry! I forgot Bri doesn’t know!”
Apparently the surprise of where we’re spending the day is only for me. Ethan laughs, and the sound sends a shiver down my spine, all the way to my toes. It’s only been a few days since my heat finally subsided. I’m still sore from where they both knotted me multiple times over the course of the week. And yet… I want to find a quiet place where I can appreciate Ethan’s beard and skin and scent. My thighs clench.
Thank God the new scent blockers made it while I was still out of it, lost to the depths of my heat. The small cockpit stays blissfully devoid of my scent.
“Let’s start with getting a snack, kid,” Ethan says. “It’s been a while since breakfast, and I get cranky if I don’t get enough snacks during the day.”
Camden laughs. “Daddy, you’re silly.”
Caleb’s eyes glint as he smirks. “I need special snacks, too,” he whispers.
My cheeks flush, and I duck my head, pulling on the handle to open the cockpit’s door. Caleb’s laugh is as full as his son’s.
We climb out of the plane, and I smile at both of the airport employees finalizing the storing of the plane. As we cross the tarmac and enter the equally tiny terminal, Caleb wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his side. I lean my head against his shoulder, watching as Camden runs ahead of us, Ethan only a few feet behind him.
“Welcome to Coeur d’Alene, sweetheart,” Caleb murmurs.
Coeur d’Alene is beautiful. It’s different from Creek Falls or the mountain towns near Denver. The evergreens that surround the lake are a dark green, and the trees in the parks sprinkled throughout the small town are gigantic, way taller than anything that grows naturally in either city I’ve called home in recent years. We stop for ice cream and pretzels shortly after getting dropped off by the rideshare a block or so away from the main thoroughfare. Caleb kisses my nose, licking away a small bit of ice cream I got on it, while Ethan sits beside his son, watching me with hot eyes that promise me everything . All without saying a damn word to me the entire time.
It’s clear Camden’s been here before and loved it. He races toward the road, promising me the best toy shop he’s seen, when he skids to a stop at the corner. Caleb grabs his hand as a group of tourists come barreling by him, paying him no mind. As we turn onto the main street through downtown, we pause, too. The entire street is closed to traffic, vintage cars lining the curbs on both sides, their coats of paint sparkling in the midday sun.
“Papa, look! It’s orange!” Camden points to a car that feels like it might have come from the 1980s with its super angular sides and trunk. Not that I know cars. At all. Caleb nods.
“Your favorite. How many do you think we can find?”
Camden pauses and hums. “I think five.”
I glance across the cars he can’t see over, taking a quick count. He’s not far off, actually. I count seven that are some shade of orange. Most of them are sports cars from the last decade or so. The body shapes seem passingly familiar, at least.
Ethan stands beside me, his elbow just brushing mine. I chance a look over at him, but he’s looking down the street, a frown pulling on his lips.
We haven’t talked. Not really. And I didn’t think the long looks counted, though they communicated plenty. Ethan’s never really been one for words. I push away the unease and twist my fingers with his. He runs his thumb across my knuckles.
Caleb leads Camden down the road, weaving through the people milling around, pointing out the orange cars. And a couple of others that seem to be special or unique, though I have no idea why. Ethan and I are slower. He doesn’t seem to be in any hurry, and I don’t push him. It’s not like I’m interested in the cars.
“Caleb’s planning on asking you about moving in,” he says after a while. He adjusts the ball cap that covers his head and shades out his face. He lets out a breath too forcefully to be a sigh. “We should… probably talk about this,” he squeezes my hand, “before that so it’s not clouding whatever you’re going to want to say.”
“All right.” My voice is steady despite the nerves crowding my throat. I swallow around them and focus on the view of the lake visible at the end of the street.
Ethan doesn’t say anything else the entire walk down to where tables are set out in a greenway, overlooking the lake. Caleb glances up as we pass him and Camden chatting with a guy standing in front of one of the bright orange cars. It looks kind of like a Corvette but more futuristic. Ethan whistles.
“Nice Lamborghini,” he whispers.
Well, that explains the futuristic feel, then.
Ethan squeezes my hand again, and then we’re sitting at one of the benches, his knee touching mine, my gaze on the dark blue of the lake. Breaking the silence feels impossible. And that nineteen-year-old girl inside me wants to wait until he does it first, wants to hear him say he wants me, the way he never did back then.
“What I said at the Outpost is still true,” he says after a while. “If a label helps, I’m willing to put one on us.”
Were labels helpful? They didn’t matter to Brett. I may have been his wife, but I wasn’t the love of his life. I’d rather have no labels than one that holds no meaning behind closed doors.
Do Caleb and I have a label? We’ve never really talked about it. We just… slowly swam deeper and deeper until there was no sign of land behind us anymore.
Besides, him bringing up the potential of bonding was more revealing of his intention and our dynamic than any label that we may or may not want to use. Bond marks are more sacred than wedding rings, more intimate than any vow we could say in front of a crowd of friends and family.
I shove the idea of bonding with Caleb away and focus on the Alpha next to me.
“Do you want a label?” I ask, my voice surprisingly calm.
He shrugs and pulls his hat off, bending it between his hands.
“We’ve made things official with my family. The town’s already put one on us as a group.” His voice is low but detached, like he’s talking about one of the cattle herds on the ranch and not our relationship status. “It was impossible for your heat to stay secret with Joan having to help watch Cam the whole time.”
“Okay,” I say, even quieter than him. Why is my stomach in knots when he’s agreeing to be serious? “A label is fine, then. It’ll be simpler than trying to correct the gossip mill.”
He nods, puts on his hat, and then looks behind me.
“Hey, kid,” he says, his voice warming. I ignore the stab of jealousy. I’m not jealous of a four-year-old kid. I’m not. “Why don’t you and I grab some ice cream for everyone? We can go to your favorite shop.”
Camden squeals and claps his hands before running up to me. “What ice cream for you, Bri?”
His question is so earnest, I can’t help but smile.
“A strawberry shake,” I answer.
The line appears between his eyes as he nods, mouthing the words. He hugs me before running to catch up with Ethan.
Caleb easily takes the empty spot beside me. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me against him, kissing my temple and running his nose along my throat, marking me with his scent. Some of those jealous nerves fall away under his touch and attention.
“Ethan already spilled the beans,” I whisper.
He laughs and tucks me into him, resting his chin on my head. “Yeah? That saves me some time, I guess.”
I grab his open hand and trace his palm, letting my gaze drop from the water.
“I don’t want my own room,” I whisper. “I’ll just end up crawling into your bed every night anyway. There’s no reason to waste the space with a bed that won’t ever be used. And your closet is big enough for my things, too.”
Caleb chuckles and kisses my cheek. “I can live with that.”
“And I think I want to ask Emily about keeping the guest house as my nest. At least for right now.”
The idea of nesting in the same house as Kayla is intimidating as hell.
His countenance sobers, and he lifts my face to his with a single finger under my chin. The blue-grey of his eyes is nearly identical to the midday August sky above us. Warmth spreads low in my belly and between my legs. He doesn’t say anything, simply kissing me until I’m a panting mess against him, boneless and wanting.
“All right, sweetheart,” he whispers.