11. Caleb
CHAPTER 11
CALEB
“ F loor’s ruined,” the insurance adjuster says. “Looks like it’s been leaking down the wall and under the floors for some time. The burst pipe just made it impossible to miss. My guess is when they start pulling carpet and laminate, they’ll determine that the whole subfloor is beyond repair.”
Beside me, Halle covers her mouth and closes her eyes.
“When will she know about the coverage?”
He sighs and glances at his clipboard. “Give me about a week.”
“Thanks for your time.” I shake hands with the man since Halle is— rightfully so—frozen in place.
He shuffles out and pulls away from the curb. A full minute later, when Halle still hasn’t moved, worry sets in.
Gripping her elbow, I duck in front of her, catching her eye. “Hal, are you okay?”
She shakes her head. “No.” Her voice is small.
Halle puts on a brave front. She doesn’t let many people see her vulnerable side. But for some reason, she tends to lower her guard around me. And I fucking love it, even if I hate that she’s hurting.
She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear and clears her throat. “I guess I just have to wait and see, right?”
“Right.” I wish I could assure her that it’ll all work out, but I can’t promise that, so I keep my mouth shut.
She starts back over to my house, her steps slow and tentative, and I walk beside her.
I’m waffling between talking about it some more or keeping my mouth shut, unsure of which she’d prefer, when she says, “I need to go into town. I put off picking up school supplies for my brothers, but I can’t wait any longer.” She frowns up at me, squinting against the sun.
School starts in three days, so she’s not kidding.
I wince. “You probably won’t find much here. You’d be better off heading a couple of towns over. I know a place.”
She wrinkles her nose, eyes still squinted. I move in front of her to keep the sun from blinding her.
“Do you just know everything there is to know?”
Fighting a laugh, I shrug and slide my hands into the pockets of my shorts. There’s a slight chill to the air today, and it won’t be long before summer is gone for good, but I’m not ready to let go of my shorts just yet. I only get three or four months of warm weather, so I’ll take advantage of every one.
“Pretty much. Remember, I grew up here.”
“Right.” She licks her lips and looks away briefly. When she looks back, her expression is lighter. Fuck, it makes me happy to see that. “How could I forget your family founded the town?”
I rock back on my heels. “I don’t know. I try to forget every day.”
She cocks her head and scrutinizes me from head to toe, like she can see right through me. “Why’s that?”
I lean in close, and when her breath catches at my proximity, I bite back a smile. “You haven’t met my parents yet.”
Taking a step back, I pull my keys out of my pocket and hold them up. “I took the whole day off. Grab the boys and we’ll head out.”
Her brow pinches. “You’re going to take us?”
“That’s what I said.” A ghost of a grin slips out this time, but I tamp it down quickly. Her suspicion is amusing, but it also breaks my heart a little. Time and time again, she shows me that she’s never even had the opportunity to rely on another person.
One day she’ll see she can count on me.
“Are you sure?”
I dip my chin. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t mean it.”
“All right.” She flashes me a small, grateful smile.
My chest warms, and I pocket that smile like I’m saving it for a rainy day.
“I’ll get them.” She takes off, bounding up the stairs and into the house. Her tiny shorts only make her toned legs look longer, and her simple tight-fitted black t-shirt shows off her trim waist and perfect curves.
Shaking thoughts of her body from my head, I slide into the car. I crank the engine and adjust the AC vents so they won’t blast in her face when she gets in. Minutes later, she appears with her bag slung crossways over her body and shuts the door behind her.
No brothers.
She opens the passenger door but doesn’t get in. Instead, she ducks her head and says, “They don’t want to go. Said they don’t care what I get them—which is really trusting on their part because I could get them Barbie supplies just to spite them. If you don’t want to go now, it’s okay. I can go by myself.”
Every time she makes a comment like that, my heart splinters a little more. Her natural reaction to shrug off any suggestion of help, to reject a notion before someone else can reject her, makes it obvious she’s never been able to count on another person.
“Hal?”
She blinks, those warm brown eyes of hers making my stomach dip. “Yeah?”
“Get in the fucking car.”
Surprised laughter bubbles out of her. “I didn’t know you were capable of curse words. You’re such a saint.” She slides onto the leather seat and shuts the door.
There’s no stopping the smile that splits my face. With the car in reverse, I press my hand to the back of her headrest and look over my shoulder. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to having a backup camera .
“Trust me, Halle”—I glance at her, then pull out onto the road—“I’m no saint.”
If she only knew the very unsaintly thoughts I’ve had about her.
As I put the car in drive, I swear there’s the briefest flash of desire heating her eyes. She hides it by focusing on her lap, fiddling with the frayed edges of her shorts.
As I pull away, I pass her my phone. “You can put whatever music you like on.”
“Seriously?” She holds my phone and side-eyes me. “Most men like to be in control of the music choices.”
I glance sideways at her. “I thought we’d established already that I’m not most men.”
She presses her lips together. A habit, I’ve realized. Maybe a conditioned response to keep her mouth shut. A response I want to put an end to.
“What’s your passcode?”
That simple question is enough to cause my shoulders to relax. She needs to let go more, especially if something as simple as being given the power to pick the music selection makes her nervous.
Halle is strong-willed and stubborn, yet surprisingly insecure at times. She’s a lesson in contradictions, with so many complex facets to her personality. From what I’ve seen, I could dig and dig and never get to the bottom of her well of trauma, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to try.
“Don’t have one,” I answer.
She sighs, the sound one of resignation, like she knows she should’ve expected this answer. “Not like most men, got it. ”
I keep my smile to myself.
A few minutes later, when the opening bars of a country love song play through the speakers, she peers over at me. “Is this okay?”
“It’s great.” I adjust my hand on the wheel. “Ever been to a concert?”
She huffs a laugh. “No, definitely not.”
“If you could go to one, who would you want to see?”
In my periphery, she purses her lips, thoughtful. “Probably Ford Parker.”
“He’s pretty new, right?”
“Mmm.” She nods. “He only has two albums, but I like his sound. His lyrics are… well, they’re poetry.”
I make a mental note to check his tour schedule. “Who else do you like?”
“Asha Donavan. She’s a little more pop than country, but I like her voice. She’s got this rasp that adds feeling to all of her songs.”
“Do you sing?” I ask.
I’m greedy to know all I can about her. The questions may be innocuous, but I’ve got to start somewhere.
With a light laugh, she tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. “In the shower and along to the radio, yeah. But I don’t sing all that well, if that’s what you’re really asking.”
“If you could go anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?”
I’m pushing it now, digging a little deeper, but to my surprise, she doesn’t shut down.
“I’ve never thought about it.” She gives a self-deprecating laugh. “Isn’t that sad? I’ve never considered leaving my brothers, so I haven’t put effort into dreams that’ll never become a reality.” She swallows audibly. “Where would you go?”
“Everywhere.”
She pokes my arm, a pop of static electricity zinging between us. “Ow.” She shakes her finger, giggling. “Sorry about that. But ‘everywhere’ is not an answer.”
“You didn’t give me one either,” I counter.
She hums, peering out her window. We’re silent then, but before I can move on to a safer topic, she says, “Scotland. I think I would go to Scotland.” The words are quiet, hesitant, like she worries that by speaking the thought aloud, any chance of one day going will be snatched from her.
“Why there?”
“I’m not sure.” She shrugs, making her hair slip over her shoulder. “I guess because it seems peaceful.”
Once I’ve parked, I unbuckle my seat belt and shift her way. “I want to travel everywhere, because I feel like there’s so much out there to see and do and experience and that I’ve barely touched the tip of the iceberg.”
She studies my face, like she’s really processing my answer.
“From here, it sounds like you’re searching for something,” she says softly. “But if I know one thing, it’s that the answers you’re looking for aren’t out there in the world.” She presses a hand to my chest. “They’re right here.”
My heart kicks up a notch in speed, and her fingers tremble slightly, like maybe she notices. Like she sees the way my heart reacts to her .
She pulls her hand away carefully and laces her fingers in her lap. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
I probably shouldn’t say it, but the words fall from my mouth before I can stop. “You can touch me anywhere, Halle. Anytime you want.”
Her breath catches slightly, her eyes wide with a mixture of wonder and confusion.
Before I can regret my declaration, I turn and push my door open. She does the same, carefully closing hers behind her.
I slip my keys into my pocket, then round the car and guide her to the entrance.
While I swipe a cart, she pulls up a screenshot of a supply list. The store has organized back-to-school items together, making the process easy, and in no time, we’ve crossed off every item, even securing some pretty good deals.
At checkout, I have to shove my hands deep into my pockets to keep from whipping my wallet out and insisting that I pay. Halle would eviscerate me if I tried to pay for her brothers’ things. It’s not my place, anyway, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to help. If I can make things easier on someone else, why wouldn’t I?
Before Halle can get to the bags, I scoop them all up and head for the exit.
“I could’ve gotten those,” she says, her feet tapping against the pavement as she catches up with me.
“I know you could’ve, but I have them.”
She narrows her eyes at me as I set the bags in the back seat .
“Has anyone ever told you that you have a savior complex?”
Savior complex?
Huh.
She might have a point.
“No.”
She plants her hands on her hips. “I’m pretty sure you do.”
“You’re probably right,” I give her a smirk. No sense in arguing. I can’t seem to help myself when it comes to people I care about. “Hungry?”
She frowns. “Huh?”
“Are you hungry? You know, that thing where your stomach demands food?”
The smallest of smiles plays on her lips. “I think I like it when you’re sarcastic.”
I grin. “Good to know.” I shut the door and hit the lock button on my fob. “There’s a burger place over here. I can’t come this way and not stop.”
“You come this way often?” She crinkles her nose. “Never mind. That sounded like a cheesy pickup line.”
I slow my steps so we’re side by side and bump her arm lightly. “You got any others to try on me?”
“Oh, God.” She lets out a groan, but in a matter of seconds her lips twitch like she’s trying not to laugh. “One time, a guy approached me and said ‘dating is a numbers game, so can I get yours?’”
I bark out a laugh. “Too bad you already have my number.”
At the crosswalk, we pause, and she squints against the sun for what has to be the third or fourth time today.
Head bowed, I take my sunglasses off and hold them out. “Here.”
She shoots me a funny look. “Huh?”
I wave them in front of her. “Take them. You’re squinting.”
“Oh, it’s fine.” The crosswalk lights up, and we carefully step out into the road. “This is the place, right?” She points at the Al’s Burgers sign at the strip mall ahead.
“That’d be the one.” I push the glasses closer again. “Take them. It’ll make me feel better.”
With a sigh, she slips them on. “Thank you, but I promise you I would’ve been fine without them.”
As we approach the small mom-and-pop restaurant, I jog ahead of her and pull the door open.
“Thanks,” she says again, taking off my sunglasses and holding them out to me.
“Keep them for now.” I wave her off and navigate toward the counter to order. “What would you like?”
“I can get my own, Caleb.”
Mouth pressed into a line, I stare down at her, and I don’t let up until she starts to squirm. “It was my idea to get burgers. Ergo, I’ll be buying.”
“Ergo,” she mutters. “Fine.” With a huff, she takes a step closer to the counter. “Just a plain cheeseburger and small fry.”
“How about I get a large fry and we share?”
“That’s fine.” She worries her bottom lip between her teeth, eyeing the order board .
“Drink?” I ask her.
“Um… I’ll take a Sprite.”
“You got it,.” I pull out my wallet and smile at the cashier approaching the counter. “Go pick a spot. I’ll be there in a minute.”
She hesitates, eyeing me, but rather than argue, she nods once. “Okay.”
Other guys might find Halle’s flippant responses and her need to remind me that she can take care of herself frustrating. But it doesn’t bother me a bit. Maybe because I see it for what it really is. Self-reliance is a great quality to have, but she’s never known anything different, so she holds a little too tight to it. It’s ingrained in her. Being taken care of is as foreign to her as another language. It’ll take time for her to overcome the need to reject my offers of help, but in time, I hope to prove that she can count on me too.
After I’ve ordered, I stand off to the side to wait, collecting salt, ketchup, and malt vinegar packets.
Halle scrolls on her phone from the booth she chose, sneaking looks my way every so often.
When she looks a third time and meets my eyes, she sticks her tongue out and mouths, “Stop staring at me.”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I grin and shake my head.
“Here you go, dear,” the older woman behind the counter says, getting my attention.
“Thanks.” I flash her a smile and drop the condiments onto the tray.
“You were staring at me, Thorne,” Halle accuses as I approach the table .
“I was.” I slide into the seat across from her and pass her the burger with the red sticker that reads Plain on its wrapper.
“You don’t even deny it.” She shakes her head, lips twitching.
As I unwrap my burger, I arch a single brow at her. “Why would I?”
She presses her lips together, a silent war raging in her dark eyes, like she can’t decide whether to answer the question truthfully or not. Eventually, she exhales and says, “I’m beginning to think my brothers were right when they said you have a crush on me.”
As we stare at one another, a flush creeps up her neck and into her cheeks.
A thrill zips through me. “I do.”
Her jaw drops, and she sputters nonsensically.
“And don’t even think about believing that I only offered you a place to stay because of that. I would’ve done it for anyone in need. And don’t worry, I’m not going to ask you out.”
Voice small, she asks, “You’re not?”
I swallow a bite of burger and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “No. I won’t put you in that position. You work for me, and for now, you live with me. I don’t want you to think that you owe me a shot because of that.”
“What if…” She drops her attention to her untouched burger. “What if I wanted you to?”
My stomach drops in surprise, the sensation so sudden I feel like I’m free-falling off a cliff. “Wanted me to what?” I press. I’m pretty sure I know what she means, but I ask for clarification anyway.
“Ask me on a date.”
Fuck. I want to whoop and jump for joy, but I don’t want to scare her away.
Instead, I say, “No.” Forcing the single syllable out is painful, but she has to see where I’m coming from.
“No?” She slides her burger away from her, straightening. “Why not? You just said?—”
“Are you attracted to me?” I ask.
“Yes,” she answers, shocking me with her honesty.
“At least we’re on the same page there.”
“Right, so why?—”
I hold up a hand. “For all the reasons I mentioned. You like me? You want to kiss me? Date me? Fuck me?” I’ve never been so forward when it comes to a woman, not even Salem. “Then you make the move. I have to know it’s what you want.”
Her cheeks are crimson now. “Okay.”
“Okay,” I echo.