Chapter 9 Caleb
Caleb
When I drove him to Nell’s, I was still reeling, furious with myself for letting Hank out of my sight for long enough to get to the fucking river. “No walking off from Nell today.”
Hank blinked.
“Don’t play innocent. You’re going to stay where she can see you. No going off on your own; it’s dangerous.”
“Ah.”
“I hope that’s Ah, of course I’ll behave, and not Ah, I can’t wait to mess up Caleb’s life on purpose.”
He gave me a sweet smile that I didn’t buy for a minute.
“I mean it.”
“Ah.”
Fucking great. Twenty minutes later I walked him into Nell’s house, and after a brief one-sided argument, I set him up where he wanted to be—at Nell’s kitchen table, eating cookies.
I was both impressed by his ability to get what he wanted and feeling a bit like he was yanking my chain.
I left Nell’s with just enough time to go by my place for my wingmen—er, wingdogs—and get across town to Henderson and Hall’s office building by the end of the day.
My backseat drivers were breathing hot doggy breath on my neck, so I rolled the windows down for them. In two seconds, they had their heads hanging out, air flowing into their jowls, spreading them out like wings.
When I drove into Henderson and Hall’s lot, I parked next to the familiar beat-up green Subaru before getting out to lean against the front of my truck and wait.
“Woo, woo, woo,” Klein complained sassily.
“Trust me,” I said. “I can’t believe I’m doing this, either, but you need to zip it.”
“Woo, woo, woo.”
Calvin put a paw on Klein’s face and pushed him to lie down.
Klein growled, then curled up and closed his eyes.
Calvin remained sitting up, vigilantly watching my back as always.
It didn’t take long. Ten minutes later, Emma came out of the building in the same clothes she’d been in that morning, loose-fitting black trousers and a fitted pale blue blazer.
Most would just see a beautiful woman leaving work.
And I saw that, but I also zeroed in on the tension in her shoulders, her stride just a little too fast for those heels, suggesting she needed distance between herself and that building.
And then there was the grim set of her mouth.
I was getting tired of feeling irritated by her. Truth was, she looked like the best thing I’d seen all day.
I knew the exact second she caught sight of me because she came to a screeching halt right in the middle of the lot, her hand lifted to shield her eyes against the early evening sun.
I read her lips as she muttered, “Great.” Then she gathered her wits and tilted her chin up so high, she could catch a nosebleed.
She strode the rest of the way to her car. I thought she might ignore me, but she set her bag on the hood and turned to face me.
Silent, waiting for me to speak first.
Smart tactic, which I loved. But what I loved even more was the thrill I got from her challenging me at every turn. “How did it go?” I asked, ignoring Klein, who sat up and barked a greeting for Emma. Calvin, hating to be left out, also had a “woo woo.”
“My presentation?” she asked. “That’s why you’re here?” She reached out to pat Klein on his massive head. He rewarded her with a lick to the chin. Next, she stroked Calvin, who politely licked her hand, all the while never taking her eyes off me.
I shrugged. “I feel invested.”
She drew a deep breath. Then she let out a smile that rocked my world, altered my brain chemistry, and made my heart thump hard.
“You killed it,” I breathed, so fucking proud of her.
She laughed. “I killed it.”
“Of course you did.” Her laugh had caused most of her tension to drain, and I knew I was grinning widely, but damn, when she smiled like that…
She rolled her head on her shoulders, like maybe she had a neck ache. “The new laptop was invaluable.” She met my gaze. “I’ll pay you back—”
“Not necessary—”
“I’m going to pay you back.”
Since she wanted to keep her pride, something I knew quite a bit about, I nodded.
“Seriously, thank you,” she said quietly. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”
I reached behind my back, grabbing a sparkling wine in one hand and a cranberry juice and a sprig of mint in the other, the makings for her signature-splurge cocktail.
She blinked in surprise, and when she spoke, her voice was husky, like she was unbearably moved. “You didn’t have to…”
I shrugged. “I was thirsty.”
She snorted. “You’d rather die than drink this.”
True…
Her head was cocked to the side now. “And if I’d messed it up in there?”
“You weren’t going to.”
“But if I had…?”
I stood and reached into my passenger-side window, pulling out a box of snickerdoodles.
Emma’s mouth fell open. “You remembered—”
“They’re not homemade, so don’t be too impressed.”
“You…bought me cookies.”
Her disbelief bothered me. Had no one ever done anything nice for her? “It’s self-serving,” I assured her. “I’m starving and hoping you’re sharing.”
She grabbed the wine and cookies, then ordered, “Bring the dogs and follow me,” as she walked off.
I opened the truck door to let out Calvin and Klein. “You heard the lady. Let’s follow.”
The Henderson and Hall building backed up to a park, which in turn ended on a slope that gave a heart-stopping view of the rocky bluffs lining the Pacific coast. We crossed the park, nearly losing Klein to a wayward Frisbee, but not Calvin.
Calvin had his eyes on the prize: the container of cookies. Calvin was eternally hopeful.
I pulled two doggy chews from my pockets and handed one to each dog, who knew the drill: Lie down, chew on the bone, and chill.
“They’re well-behaved,” Emma said.
“It’s cute that you think so.”
She crouched and stroked each dog into nearly a pleasure coma. “Don’t listen to him; you’re such good boys, and so pretty.”
They preened.
And I was fucking jealous of my own dogs.
“Did you bring a cocktail shaker?” she asked, sitting cross-legged on the grass right next to the dogs, slipping out of her blazer, leaving her in a silky cami. I was admiring the view as she kicked off her heels with a long-suffering sigh.
I handed over the shaker and watched as she began making her drink while wriggling her freed toes. “Other than the gala, I’ve only seen you in work clothes and flats,” I said.
She gave me a look that said she was questioning my intelligence when she poured in her ingredients, heavy on the wine. “It was a presentation. I had to kick ass, but also look kick-ass.”
“You succeeded in both, but how do the heels help exactly?”
“You wouldn’t get it,” she said, shaking up the drink.
“Why not?”
She handed me the shaker. I’d just taken a sip when she gestured toward my lower body and said, “You’ve got a penis.”
I choked.
She crawled over to me and, on her knees at my side, began pounding my back with one hand, snatching the shaker from my grasp with the other, and taking a long, deep drink—as she kept smacking me.
I finally managed to lift a hand for mercy, and she stopped trying to kill me.
“Was it the penis thing?” she asked.
I slid her a look.
She laughed at me. “So…whatcha think of the drink?”
I took the shaker back and tried again. It was still horrible. “Great.”
“Liar. You can say it: It’s a girlie drink.”
“I’m not afraid to be girlie.”
She let out a startled laugh so warm and genuine that I laughed, too, and that made her laugh harder as she leaned toward me, inadvertently caught her knee on the grass, and…
Spilled her drink down my front.
Sucking in a breath at the cold, I lifted my shirt up and away from my torso.
Emma gasped, eyes glued to my bared stomach. “I’m so sorry!”
“No worries.”
She pawed through her bag and came up with a napkin, which she used to dab at my shirt. “I don’t want it to stain,” she murmured as she wielded the napkin with surgical precision and concentration.
“Emma.”
“Hmm?” She still hadn’t taken her gaze off my abs.
“You about done?”
“Oh!” She blushed and sat back on her heels. “Just making sure you didn’t get cold.”
“I’m the opposite of cold.”
She groaned and closed her eyes. “I mean, you don’t even play hockey anymore, so why do you still have an eight-pack?”
I shrugged. “I like to work out with Tucker at the firehouse.”
“It’s cruel and unfair.”
My grin widened, and she exhaled.
“Look, I’m sorry I ogled you, okay? But seriously. Cruel and unfair.”
“Noted.” I tossed another doggy biscuit, which Calvin caught midair.
“You didn’t even taste that,” I chastened.
“Woo woo.” Klein, lodging a complaint.
“I didn’t forget you.” I tossed him a biscuit.
It hit him square between the eyes.
“He’s got corneal dystrophy,” I said. “Makes it difficult for him to see sometimes.”
“Aw.” She gave Klein a hug and fussed over him, and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that Klein had no idea he was disabled.
“Did you raise them from puppies?” she asked.
“No, I adopted them earlier this year. Actually, they adopted me. Found them abandoned on a jobsite, tied to a tree. I meant only to free them and find them a good home, but it turns out they wanted my home. Literally. In the first week, they ate two chairs, three pairs of shoes, and my kitchen table.”
Emma laughed. “And yet you still kept them.”
“Somehow, after spending a fortune at the vet to get them healthy, and then another fortune replacing everything they ate in my house that first week, we settled in together.”
“You love them.”
“Go figure.” I poured us each another glass, and before I knew it, we were on our third glass, just as the sun began its descent, casting long, dancing shadows across the rugged coastline.
The sky, bright blue only twenty minutes earlier, erupted into a breathtaking canvas of fiery oranges and soft pinks, making me feel not only warm and relaxed, but also something I hadn’t allowed in a long time… open.
Emma’s cheeks were rosy from success and the wine, and she was smiling in a genuine, carefree way she hadn’t shown me before. “You’re beautiful,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I even realized they were on my tongue.