Chapter 7
“ T hat’s the estimate for a new hood. Add that to the new fender and touching up the paint…” The auto shop employee rattled off numbers that were only rivaled in size by the guy’s booming voice.
Caleb threaded steel into his spine to keep from sinking back into the hard-plastic seat of the waiting room and dropping his head into his hands. He’d never thought the body shop such a depressing place before.
A sheet of paper hung from Larry’s black-smudged fingers. Caleb didn’t want to accept the estimate. He had an emergency fund but it wasn’t big enough to cover this. That meant he’d have to dig into the insurance payout from his house.
Larry was waiting.
“How long will the repairs take?” He had an old pickup that he kept running, so a backup wasn’t an issue. The time without his regular ride just added to the general inconvenience of it all.
“About a week. But we can’t fit you in until next week.” Larry shrugged a heavy shoulder. “It’s drivable.”
Yeah, if he wanted to go back to cruising around in a beater that people would use to judge his character. That’d worked so well for him in high school.
“Go ahead and write me in. I’ll drop it off Monday before work.” He’d figure out how to get home from work Tuesday morning.
Larry still held the paper. A bushy eyebrow rose and he jiggled it.
No, Caleb didn’t want to take proof of how much less he had for a house. His policy was going to increase after this claim.
He found where Larry had parked his pickup outside the shop.
A brisk wind cut through his sweater. His heavier winter coat was draped across his backseat, where it was nice and warm.
He crawled inside and blew out a breath.
The cold was refreshing, and he needed it to keep his head from returning to that steamy bathroom with a not-naked-enough Brigit.
He’d had her in his arms again. Her round ass in his hands. Her tongue in his mouth.
And she’d responded with as much energy as he had. If he hadn’t forced himself to stop, would he have been inside her? Would either of them have thought about protection?
Would he have cared?
Yes, of course. He’d been safe his whole sex life, and someday he’d love to be a dad, but only if the other person was all in. Brigit had never mentioned kids. Maybe once, and only as a rigid step in her ideal life path. College. Career. Marriage. Kids. And none of that shit in Moore.
So he should pat himself on the back. His restraint had been Herculean. If only he could stop imagining how it might’ve felt to have nothing between them—both literally and metaphorically.
He flung the pickup into gear, not knowing where he was going and not caring.
The morning had been spent on the phone with his insurance agent while he finished chores. He’d missed lunch while he waited for the estimate on his vehicle.
His stomach rumbled. Okay, then. Food. He might as well run through the grocery store. But first the butcher shop. The deer wasn’t going to squeeze itself into sausage casings.
He was across town within minutes. Walking into the butcher shop, he nearly groaned.
The scent of spices surrounded him, reminding him of their meat-filled dinner with the Jameses.
Just what he needed. Another Brigit recollection rising up like the lady of the lake.
Hanging out last night. Being together. In public—sort of.
It might’ve been as friends, but he hadn’t realized how badly he’d wanted that.
No matter how many years had passed, he went back to being that kid who yearned to be out with his girlfriend.
As he wound around the shelves full of seasonings and marinades, another smell hit him. Flowery perfume that clashed with the savory scents.
“Caleb?”
He turned toward the unfamiliar female voice.
It took a moment to recognize the girl he’d gone to school with.
Priya Patel had grown into some dead-sexy curves.
Long, shiny black hair hung over one shoulder, but the biggest change was the lighter touch she wielded with her makeup brush.
Her natural beauty had a chance to shine through.
The first smile of the day hit him. “Priya, hey. Back in town?”
They hadn’t hung out in the same crowd until her best friend had dated Justin. Then broken up with him. Then dated him again. Maisy wasn’t on the list of people he missed socializing with, but seeing Priya again was nice. She’d always balanced the effect of Maisy.
Why couldn’t he have been interested in Priya? She probably harbored feelings for Justin, but still. How would things have been different? Instead, he’d given his heart to one woman.
And moved on. Sort of. He dated other women, had sporadic sex, and tried not to think about growing old alone.
Priya grinned and crossed her arms, the mass of necklaces around her neck jingling. “I’m actually back for good.”
“Seriously?” He glanced around. The owner of the shop nodded at him from behind the counter. That’s right. Priya’s grandpa ran the place.
“Yeah. I’m finishing my residency and I got a position here.” She spread her hands out. “Meet the new OB/GYN in town.”
“Hey, congrats.”
“Thanks. And you? I’ve been so far in the med school rabbit hole, I haven’t heard much, except from, you know. Maisy.” Her smile turned strained. Apparently, the relationship between him and Brigit wasn’t the only one to suffer under maturity.
“I’m a fireman.”
Her laugh tinkled through the shop. “Of course. How could I forget that was your dream job? Didn’t your family ranch like Justin’s?”
“Yep. I do both.”
“A fireman rancher. Awesome.”
“That’s me.” He got that a lot, but at least Priya wasn’t oozing shock and awe. He got that a lot, too, from people he used to know. Look at Caleb Cruise. He actually did something with himself.
Her laugh was as beautiful as she was, but he’d never been drawn into the mob of boys drooling after Priya Patel.
Like Brigit, she’d left home for education and success.
But she was back to stay. Only she wasn’t staying under the same roof.
And he hadn’t made out with her wearing nothing but a towel less than twelve hours ago.
Not only that, but Priya didn’t stop him in his tracks like Brigit did crouched in that damn towel. His mouth didn’t dry up and his entire blood supply didn’t rush to his groin despite being only feet away from her. Sure, Priya’s grandpa was close by and they were in public.
But when Brigit was around, it didn’t matter.
And since she was still in Moore, and under Justin’s roof, and single, he’d have to hold his shit together.
He’d been single this long. He’d used his hand so much that he didn’t have to worry about wasting water in the shower.
Going without sex to keep from doing something stupid and creating a shit-ton of drama in his life wasn’t that hard.
“Is your grandpa busy?” Talking to an old friend shouldn’t be so depressing.
“Grandpa Saunders is always busy. But he’s always got time for his customers.” She moved back to let him pass. “I’m sure we’ll cross paths anyway if Maisy’s seeing Justin again.”
That was enough to pull him to a stop. Justin’s life was none of his business, but Maisy getting close to Brigit’s brother was enough to raise alarms. Maisy wasn’t any nicer now than she’d been in high school, and she hadn’t set the bar high.
Maisy was the type of girl who put down others to feel better about herself.
She could also charm whoever she was talking to as she was stabbing them in the back.
Brigit had never confessed to how badly she’d been targeted, but Caleb had read the signs.
The red eyes after gym class. The hunched shoulders and averted gaze as Maisy and her cohorts sauntered by.
The avoidance of any school function run by the cheerleaders. Their team captain at the time: Maisy.
But she was hot and single. And must’ve fooled Justin enough to tap back into his high school on-again off-again girlfriend and all the drama she fostered.
Even Joan Walker had sensed something off about that girl. Maisy had never been allowed at the house. Brigit had either talked to her mother, or Joan had read the mean-girl vibes loud and clear.
That was one thing they could agree on.
He left her with a “see you around” and found her grandfather.
As he made arrangements for processing the deer, his mind puzzled over the Maisy question. Would she be the wedge that permanently drove Brigit from her home?
It smelled like snow. Brigit stamped the fresh straw under her feet. She was in the barn with Justin, pitching in to clean the muck left behind by a couple of sick sheep they’d been doctoring.
“Mom and Dad are coming for Thanksgiving next week,” Justin announced with all the delicacy of a charging ram.
She didn’t bother hiding her groan. One thing she and her twin commiserated over was parental pushiness. Justin couldn’t dodge it now that he’d come back home. Neither could she.
“How long and where are they staying?” Her thoughts turned to Caleb. What was he going to do?
“I told them there was still a bedroom left. Mom said she’d get back to me.”
“She’s going to comment about how it’ll be crowded with Caleb taking a room.
” Somehow, the barn was their safe space.
It had always been where they teamed up to bitch about Mom and Dad’s interference.
In the house, they passed each other like there was a fence between them. He did his thing, she did hers.
But the barn. Surrounded by the familiar scent of manure, straw, and musty dirt, they dropped their guards. Maybe it was because they’d spent their childhoods outside.
Justin grunted and unhooked a corral panel that had been separating the sheep. “I already told her that he was my guest. I even listed how he contributed.”
For Justin to go that far in explaining his life? Mom would know not to push the Caleb subject.