Chapter 28 Emma #2
“And how’s it been working out for you?”
A spark of temper flared in my gut. “Not all of us get to have an incredible inner circle, a team at our back at all times.”
He let out a rough breath, ragged and tense.
“Don’t you get it? Anything could’ve happened to you alone all night at a fucking park or campground.
Or, hell, here. Jesus, Emma, we’ve got someone messing around on this jobsite, stealing shit, and…
I don’t even know what else, not yet, and the thought of you here, alone, unprotected—”
“I can handle myself.”
“Sure. With a brass candlestick.” He drew a deep breath. “What did I do so wrong that you felt you couldn’t come to me?”
I let out a mirthless laugh. “Do you think it’s easy to admit I’m so bad at adulting that I’m homeless and sleeping on a jobsite? A fact that would get me fired in a heartbeat if anyone found out?”
A furrow appeared between his eyes. “I’d never tell your firm.” At whatever he saw in my eyes, he swore softly beneath his breath. “You don’t trust me.”
When I hesitated, he shoved his fingers in his hair, turning in a slow, agitated circle. “You should know you can trust me by now.”
“Because we had sex on the riverbank?”
Frustration flashed in those hazel eyes. “It’s so much more than that between us, and you know it.”
“Do I?” I tossed up my hands. “And can you really not see how hard it would’ve been to come clean?
I mean, let’s look at your life. Everything you’ve ever tried, you’ve succeeded in: school, hockey, and now business.
You’re on top of your world, and I’m…” I felt the prickle of tears and promptly shut up.
I swore, if a single one fell, I’d hit myself with the candlestick.
“Emma.” Pushing off the counter, he came close again, invading my senses with his scent and the inherent warmth and strength of him.
Then, so gently that I nearly lost the grip I had on my tears, he cupped my face.
“I know you’re all too used to being on your own, but you don’t have to be.
You have people around you who care, who would want to help you. Ask me how I know.”
I had to close my eyes, or I’d lose it at the tender, worried look in his. “How do you know?” I whispered.
“Because I’m one of them.”
I nodded, then shook my head, my throat so tight that it hurt to speak. “Whatever this has been, I couldn’t bet my future by telling you my embarrassing truth.”
“Did you think I wouldn’t understand?”
“How could you?” I asked, tossing up my hands. “You’ve never been in this position, and you never would. You have family.”
“I do,” he agreed. “I’m a lucky son of a bitch, and I know it. I also know you’ve had too many people leave or walk away from you, and that shit leaves a mark. But, Emma, that isn’t me. I’m not going anywhere. I care about you, whether you like it or not.”
I turned away and closed my eyes against the pain in his and the matching pain in my chest. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you—”
“Don’t you dare apologize, not when you still don’t.” I heard a rustling and glanced over my shoulder to see him pulling off his sweatshirt, then layering it over the one I already wore.
“You’re going to run out of sweatshirts.”
“They look better on you anyway.” He wrapped me up in it, carefully zipping it to my chin, his fingers as warm as the thick material, making me realize I’d started to shiver.
I didn’t tell him it wasn’t from the cold but sheer overwhelming dread. “So what now?” I asked softly, hugging his sweatshirt close, letting the heat and scent of him envelop me.
“You’re coming home with me.”
“What? Caleb, no.”
His eyes narrowed. “No?”
I wouldn’t move in with him, not like this. “It’s kind of you to offer, but—”
“Then tell me you’ve got a safe place to go.”
I paused, and he shook his head. “Em, everyone deserves a safe place to sleep. I’m offering you one. What’s the problem?”
Gee, I don’t know. Pride. Ego. Self-worth… Pick one. “You’re already taking care of enough people,” I said.
“If you mean Hank, he doesn’t count.”
“Why not?”
“Because he’s a pain in my ass, but you won’t be.”
“I’m not good with charity.”
“It’s not charity.”
“Of course it is!”
Again, he scrubbed a hand down his tired face. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I watched a scary movie last night and couldn’t sleep. Not a fucking wink. You can be my bodyguard. I’ll sleep like a baby.”
“Caleb.”
He shook his head. “You’ve got a choice.
You can either get your stuff or stay here, but if you do, I’ll be sleeping in my truck out front tonight to make sure you’re safe.
That would make two straight nights of no sleep, which’ll give me a migraine, and as you know, on this kind of job, that’s dangerous.
You coming home with me is actually the same thing as saving my life. ”
I choked out a laugh. “That’s a bit of a stretch.”
“Your choice,” he said again.
I was tired. So tired. The thought of being safe enough to fall deeply asleep without worry was more than I could resist. “If I go with you, you’ll want to talk about it.”
He gave a very solemn nod. “I will.”
My heart skipped a beat. I owed him that much, at the very least. “Okay, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”
He raised a brow. “Isn’t that a little like closing the barn door after the horse has escaped?”
“Maybe, but this is different. This is a friend helping out a friend. And friends don’t sleep together.”
“Why not?” For the first time, a light of amusement came into his eyes. “We’re so good at it.”
No kidding. “Because…” Crap. I forgot why.
His mouth curved, but his eyes remained serious, solemn…intense. “Whatever terms you want, Em. Just say yes.”
Everything about his stance told me exactly how important this was to him, that he was not babying or pitying me, but simply wanted me safe. So I took a deep breath. “Yes.”