Chapter 22 Emma #2
Calvin and Klein barked, wanting to join the excitement. Caleb pointed to the blanket in one corner, and they obediently plopped down, resting their faces on their front paws, carefully watching the food, ready for cleanup duty.
The rest of the guys happily dove into the chips and salsa, even the veggies, enjoying the food I’d bought with my last fifty bucks.
Well, everyone but Caleb. Having been relieved of the mug, he leaned against the counter directly in front of me, all muscles and tats and those sexy-as-hell glasses, watching me like I was a puzzle missing a few key pieces, but also like he was hungry—only not for food.
This set off all sorts of reactions inside my body, most of which should not happen with an audience. I jumped when my phone alarm went off. “That’s for the face masks.”
We all removed our masks, and the guys marveled at how soft their skin felt. I was eating some chips and salsa before it was all gone, silently mourning the loss of my necklace, when I found Caleb had shifted close, watching me, smile gone.
“What, never seen a girl shove a bunch of chips in her face before?” I asked.
He shifted into my personal space bubble and tilted my chin up to study my face. “What’s wrong?”
So much for the mask erasing the ravages of tears. I pushed his hand away and stepped back. “It’s a Sunday. What could be wrong?”
“You tell me. Is it what happened last weekend? Between us?”
“Not everything’s about you.”
His gaze was piercing, filled with concern. I didn’t deserve it. “Nothing’s wrong.” I turned away. The guys were eating, jostling around in good fun, paying us no attention. They’d all known each other forever, inside and out, for better or worse, and I had a feeling they’d each say for better.
That camaraderie, that level of comfort…
I envied it. Yes, I had my aunt, but we talked only once a month or so.
And, of course, Suzie, but our lives were a million miles apart, and it had put a little distance between us.
There were also Kiera and Hazel; we’d all been out several times now and were getting close.
But the kind of tight-knit thing the guys had going took years.
They were forever ride-or-dies. Caleb would never have to wonder who’d be at his back in any given situation, and jealousy rolled over in my gut.
Caleb’s gaze was still on me, trying to read my thoughts. “Emma, we need to talk.”
“Maybe later.”
He gave a slow shake of his head. “You don’t mean that.”
He was right. I didn’t mean that. I didn’t want to talk about what had happened between us last weekend, I didn’t want to talk about anything, not with what felt like an elephant sitting on my chest.
Tucker came close and shoved a hummus-dipped carrot into his brother’s mouth. “He hasn’t eaten,” he explained as Caleb chewed, still watching me thoughtfully. “Makes him a hangry bitch.”
“I am not hangry,” Caleb said.
“Suuuuure you’re not,” Ryder called out from the other side of the island. “You took off Tuck’s head on the drive over here for absolutely no reason, but you’re not hangry.”
“Tuck had it coming.” Bill patted Caleb on the head. Not easy since Caleb was a head taller, but he managed.
“It wasn’t for no reason,” Caleb said. “The asshole ate my breakfast sandwich.”
“Because you ate Ry’s,” Tuck said. “The one Penny made for just him, which you knew because you said there was a private note on there for Ry, implying it was for a…uh, special anniversary. The X-rated kind.”
Ryder’s eyes narrowed at Caleb.
Caleb held up his hands. “In my defense, I didn’t see the note until after I ate it.”
“We’ll discuss that later.”
“Great,” Caleb said and slid Tucker a dirty look. “Still no reason for you to eat my breakfast.”
Tucker smirked.
Ryder popped open a peach tea and handed it to Caleb. “Drink.”
“No—”
Ryder tipped up the drink so that his brother had two choices: swallow or drown.
Rolling his eyes, Caleb snatched the drink and downed it in one go.
“Better?” Tucker asked.
“Not yet,” Ryder answered for Caleb, then shoved a piece of hummus-laden celery into Caleb’s mouth.
“I hate celery; it’s like eating string.” But he chewed. Swallowed, even if it was more than a little dramatic. “Fine. I was hangry, all right?”
Ryder wrapped a muscled arm around Caleb’s neck and gave him a sideways hug. And then he ran his knuckles over the top of Caleb’s head. “It’s okay. You nearly taking off Tuck’s head was the best part of my week.”
“Hey,” Tuck said.
Caleb just shoved free from Ryder, took another carrot, and flashed me a grin.
These guys really had something here. Something real.
Back in college, I’d put Caleb in a box, writing him off as little more than a “bro,” believing there’d been nothing genuine about him, but I’d been wrong.
He had depth; he had a very full life, certainly more of a life than I’d ever managed.
He was like an onion—every time I looked, another layer had peeled away.
Truth was, I liked him. I maybe even more than liked him.
Ryder’s phone rang. He looked at the screen and let out a breath.
“Gotta go.” He nodded my way. “Thanks for bringing in supplies. Get Tucker the receipt, and we’ll reimburse you.
” He patted his own face. “And thanks for making my skin soft as a baby’s butt.
” He slid Caleb a look I couldn’t interpret, stopped to pet the dogs for a beat, and then was gone.
Caleb turned to Tucker slowly.
Tucker choked on his iced tea, muttered, “Oh shit,” and scooted around the island as far as he could get from his brother.
Caleb began to stalk him.
“Is this about me telling Ry you ate his precious breakfast sandwich?” Tucker asked.
“Yep.”
“Fuck,” Tucker said, then kept moving around the island, tripping over Calvin, who was trying to join the fun. “I don’t see what the big deal is. Ry probably won’t even kill you.” Then he grabbed a strawberry off the tray and chucked it at Caleb.
It hit him in the shoulder and fell to the ground with a faint splat.
Klein gobbled it up, and Calvin gave a mournful “woo woo.”
“Hey,” Bill protested. “No wasting the goods.” He looked to me apologetically. “They were raised by wolves.”
Caleb was still moving toward Tucker, who vaulted over the island in one smooth athletic move, before landing on the other side, still rapidly cursing as Caleb continued to come at him.
Bill’s eyes darted back and forth between them, like they were in a tennis match.
Calvin and Klein were bounding along after Caleb. “Lie down,” he said, eyes still on Tucker.
“Don’t lie down,” Tucker told them, then pointed at Caleb. “Attack!”
The dogs jumped up on Caleb and licked his face.
“Shouldn’t you intervene?” I asked Bill as Caleb made the dogs lie down again and continued to follow Tucker around the kitchen.
“Yes, intervene!” Tucker yelled. “You should definitely intervene!”
“No,” Caleb said.
Bill sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face. “You going to kill each other?”
“Yes,” Caleb said.
“No,” Tucker said.
“Take it out of the kitchen,” Bill ordered. “No blood in the kitchen.” He caught the look of horror on my face. “Bloodstains are a bitch to get out,” he explained.
My mouth fell open.
“Oh, don’t worry. They won’t maim each other.”
“Gee, I feel all better now,” I said.
The guys all busted out laughing, like I was hilarious. But I was smiling a little, feeling slightly lighter than when I’d been alone.