Chapter 29 Emma
Emma
A far cry from the bachelor pad I’d expected.
“Brace yourself. Incoming.” He unlocked the front door, and a whirlwind of fur and love barreled at us. Calvin and Klein let out a chorus of barks and happy yips as they showered Caleb with kisses wherever they could reach.
“Down,” Caleb said firmly.
The dogs obediently sat, stubby tails swishing back and forth so hard, I was surprised they didn’t take flight.
“Good boys.” Caleb crouched low, hugging each in turn until they melted to the floor into two piles of happy goo.
I squatted at Caleb’s side and rubbed their bellies, which had them writhing for more.
“They like you.”
I turned to meet his warm gaze. “They like everyone.”
With a laugh, Caleb rose, pulling me up with him. “Go potty.”
“Maybe I don’t have to go.”
He chuckled. “The dogs, smart-ass.” He pointed out the door, and the boxers took off like they were at the races, vanishing into the dark yard for about sixty seconds before bouncing back to sit proudly panting at Caleb’s feet.
He pulled two treats from his pocket and tossed them.
Calvin caught his midair. Klein’s treat hit him squarely between the eyes.
“One day, buddy,” Caleb said with sympathy.
I looked around the house. Exposed beams, a reclaimed-wood accent wall, beautiful scarred-wood floors softened with a handful of colorful rugs, and a fireplace that had definitely seen its fair share of marshmallow roasting.
Warm. Cozy. Just standing in the living room brought me my first deep breath since Caleb had found me playing Goldilocks.
In front of the fireplace sat a massive overstuffed leather couch that looked like it had been the scene of countless naps and whispered secrets, and next to it was a basket overflowing with dog toys.
I turned in a slow circle, taking it all in.
The walls were adorned with rustic artwork and family photos, books, and plants, giving the space a lived-in, welcoming feel.
I didn’t know what I’d expected, but it wasn’t this very natural domesticity, not when I’d always seen him as a little bit untamed and adventurous.
I didn’t realize I was looking around in awe until he said, “Did you expect me to live in a tree house?”
“Well…” I laughed a little. “This place is great.”
“Thanks.” He looked around as if trying to see through my eyes. “I’m fixing it up a little at a time.”
Trying not to think about the reason I was here, I moved closer to the photos.
There was one of his entire family at Disneyland.
Wait, no, not his entire family, I realized.
Hank wasn’t there. One of the twins, maybe a year old, sat on Kiera’s shoulders, the other on the shoulders of a man I didn’t know.
Kiera’s husband before he’d passed, maybe?
Everyone wore Mickey ears and a bright smile, though not a single one of them looked into the camera, instead messing with one another.
Caleb had an arm slung around Tucker’s neck, Ryder was giving Caleb a knuckle rub across the top of his head, and Kiera was in the middle of elbowing Tucker in the gut.
The next pic was of everyone on paddleboards at what seemed to be Lake Tahoe—except Hank, who stood at the shore smiling.
Caleb appeared at my side. “That was a few months ago, when Kiera came back online after two years of grieving. It was…a family reset, I guess you could say.”
I loved it. Abi sat on Caleb’s board between his feet. Kiera was using her paddle to splash Tucker in the face. Everyone was smiling or laughing—except for Alex, who was sleeping in Ryder’s arms.
A knot grew in my chest and ended up in my throat.
Envy.
I was envious of what this family had—how comfortable they were, whether fighting or laughing, how they stood at one another’s backs, always.
Not an easy admission, even to myself. This was his world, his real world.
The kitchen was small but lovely, with open shelving, a butcher-block island, and a massive fridge.
There were a few dishes in the sink, two dog bowls up against the wall.
In a corner sat a hockey puck, a baseball bat, and a pair of running shoes.
The table had two sets of rolled-up blueprints on it, as well as a plant that could use some water.
The whole room felt like the heart of the house. “Do you cook?”
“Yeah, I cook. Started when I was a kid because Ryder burns water. Tucker cooks better than me, but don’t tell him I said so.
He doesn’t need the ego boost.” He gestured me down the hall, then stopped at the first bedroom.
“This one’s Hank’s. He’s been staying at Kiera’s sometimes now; he likes being with the twins.
He’s at Tucker’s tonight though. Hopefully behaving. ”
The way he could talk so easily about the man who’d made his childhood extremely hard was incredibly admirable. If I’d had the experience he’d had, I’d probably have written the man out of my life and not looked back.
Just like my dad had done to me.
But Caleb… He hadn’t forgotten, but somehow he’d forgiven—or at least forgiven enough to be the bigger person and step in when his dad needed help.
I knew without a doubt that if anyone in his life needed help, he’d be there, no questions asked.
Would I do the same?
I searched my heart. Past Emma, mired down in grief and anxiety and stress, wouldn’t have been able to open herself up enough to help anyone, much less herself.
But I’d like to believe that Present Emma would.
“This bedroom is for the twins.” Caleb opened the next door to reveal toddler-sized bunk beds, a dresser, and a massive toy chest, all in bright, fun colors.
“You keep a room here for them?”
“Of course.”
Of course. He’d literally given up two-thirds of his house to his family. Amazing. Adorable. Sexy.
“My room’s here at the end of the hall,” he said, nudging me in. “The bed’s all yours.”
“I told you I’m not kicking you out of your bed.
” His bedroom was a study in masculine simplicity.
The walls were a deep, soothing shade of gray, the floor the same rich, dark hardwood as the rest of the house.
There was a bedside table cluttered with books and a vintage alarm clock, and a large window overlooked what I assumed was the backyard that I couldn’t see in the dark.
The bed dominated the space, large and inviting, covered in a navy-blue comforter that had two distinct lumps in the center. Calvin and Klein.
I laughed. “Looks like the bed’s taken anyway.”
Caleb gave his dogs a look, which they missed because they closed their eyes, pretending to sleep. “They’re not supposed to get on the bed,” he said directly to them, “and they’re certainly not supposed to be using my damn pillows.”
“Do they know that?” I asked, highly amused.
“Oh, they know. Down,” Caleb said sternly.
The dogs sighed in unison, then very, very slowly got up while continuously glancing at Caleb like he might change his mind.
“Down or no cookie before bed,” he said.
They both immediately leaped off the mattress and sat at his feet, staring up at him adoringly, stubby tails swishing the floor.
“Kiss-ups.” But he gave them each a quick full-body rub before directing them out of the bedroom.
“You’re a big old softy,” I said.
“Don’t tell anyone.”
I smiled. “A cute house, dogs, and even some plants that are alive. I had no idea you were so domestic.”
“My biggest secret is that I’m really a pushover at heart.”
It was true, and perhaps it was even the most attractive thing about him. That he’d made a real home, something I had not managed.
“Hey.” He reached out to run a finger along my hairline, gently tapping my temple. “Where did you go?”
I drew a deep breath. “Your world feels like Mars compared to mine.”
He studied me for a beat. “It’s just a house, Em.”
“No, it’s a home. One you share with your tight-knit family and friends and dogs.”
“You do know it’s not all sweet-faced babies and rainbows and apple pie, right?
Hank used to be an abusive asshole. Our mom died.
We lost Auggie, and then nearly Kiera to her grief.
She retreated, wouldn’t talk to us. Ry…floundered, and we thought for a while that we might lose him too.
The loss tore us all apart, and we’re only now getting back to some semblance of normal.
Bad shit happens, Em. Even to good people.
Like you.” He stepped closer and ran his hands up and down my arms, chasing away my chill.
“Stop thinking like you’re still on your own. You’re not, not anymore.”
Again, that lump formed in my throat as I stared up at him, afraid to believe, but desperately wanting to… “You think you see me.”
“I do see you. And I like what I see. Always have, Em.”
I shook my head. “How did I not see you?”
His smile was wry. “I’m good at hiding in plain sight.”
I went up on tiptoe to brush my mouth across his. “I see you now, Caleb.”
“I see you, too, Em.”
I looked into his eyes. “What do you want to know?”
He opened his mouth and—
His phone rang.
Caleb groaned. “I should’ve tossed it in the freezer when we got here.” He eyed the screen. “It’s Ry. Sorry, I have to take this.”
“Of course.” I shifted away, moving down the hall and back to the kitchen to give him some privacy—also to panic because what would happen when they all found out I’d been sleeping on the jobsite?
Caleb’s voice carried. I heard him say, “Yeah, I couldn’t sleep, was working late.
How did you know?” There was a long beat.
“Bill shouldn’t have bothered you with a text about what time I left the jobsite.
Or that Emma was with me.” He paused again, and I stopped breathing.
“Coincidence,” he said firmly. “She fell asleep there by accident.”
The sick feeling in my gut intensified now that the word was out. I would lose my job. Lose my new friends. Lose…
Caleb.