22. Halle
CHAPTER 22
HALLE
I take a deep breath, giving myself one last pep talk before I knock on Salem’s door.
She’s there in an instant, swinging the door open with a quick smile before she darts off, chasing a little boy with dark hair who’s sprinting away shockingly fast for a human being with such short legs.
“Samson!” she chastises. “Put that marker down now.”
While she battles with the squirming toddler, I let myself in and shut the door behind me.
“I didn’t even know we owned any Sharpies,” she gripes as she holds the marker in her right hand and wrangles him with her free arm. “But leave it to Samson to find one.”
“Kids are good at that.”
My brothers were terrors from about the ages of two to six. They never failed to get their grubby little hands into the things they shouldn’t.
“This way,” she says with a nod. “Want a cup of coffee? I made turkey sandwiches for lunch. If that’s not okay, I have?—”
“That’s great,” I say, not wanting to inconvenience her. She’s got her hands full as it is.
“Have a seat, and I’ll grab everything.” She motions to a long dining table.
Rather than leave her to do the work, I wring my hands and take a step closer. “Can I help?”
I’d much rather feel useful than sit here and do nothing.
She plops the squirming toddler into a highchair and scoots it to the table. “The sandwiches are on the second shelf in the fridge. If you want a bottle of water, grab one.”
With a grateful smile, I obey, pulling the sandwiches out and setting them out of Samson’s reach.
She sighs and drops into a chair beside her little boy. “Keeping tiny humans alive is a full-time job.” Perking up, she snags a sandwich, and as she unwraps it, she keeps her attention downcast. Finally, she clears her throat and peers up at me. “I’m the one who invited you over, and now I don’t really know where to begin.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “It’s weird getting to know people as an adult, isn’t it? ”
“Yes.” She holds a quarter slice of her sandwich up to Samson’s mouth.
He tries to yank it from her hand, but she’s faster, pulling back before he can get his hand on it.
He grunts. “I feed myself.”
She levels him with a stare. “You’re capable of it, yes. But are you actually going to do it, or will you throw it on the floor?”
His answer comes in the form of a mischievous little grin.
With a sigh, she says, “I’ll hold on to it for now, I think.”
He frowns but leans forward and takes a bite without argument.
With a soft smile at me, Salem slips a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “I think you have the wrong impression of me, Halle.”
“I—what—no,” I sputter, my heart plummeting.
Laughing, she squeezes my hand where it rests on the table. “I’m not accusing you of anything. It’s human nature to form preconceived notions, but I’d rather get to know each other so our impressions of one another can be informed by fact.”
I nod. I should probably respond, but my brain has suddenly emptied, unable to scramble twenty-six letters into any kind of sentence structure.
“Did Caleb tell you that I grew up in the house he lives in now?”
Another nod, and finally, a few words. “He told me.”
“I didn’t have the best childhood. He hasn’t given me any details—please don’t think he’s betrayed your trust— but he hinted that maybe you and I share similar experiences.”
My brows knit. “Similar experiences? Was your mom an addict too?”
Before she’s even responded, I wish I could take the question back, certain she’ll laugh. But, to my relief, she doesn’t. “No, but my dad was abusive. It…” She gives her son a soft smile, her eyes full of pain. “It was horrible, to say the least, and it played a large part in shaping me into who I am today.”
“Is he in prison?”
She shakes her head. “No, he died years ago. And maybe it’s wrong, but I’m relieved. I don’t think I would be nearly as okay as I am now if he were still alive. Even if he were behind bars.”
She takes a deep breath, stretching her fingers out in front of her.
“More,” Samson demands, smacking his hands on the highchair. “More, Mommy.”
With a tender sigh, she brushes his hair back from his face, only for it to flop right back into his eyes. She holds the sandwich out to him. Instead of taking a small bite, he leans his body forward and snatches the sandwich from her hand with his teeth like a piranha.
“Samson,” she scolds, but she can’t keep the laughter out of her voice. Quickly, her attention veers back to me. “Do you want kids?”
I frown, mulling over the question. It’s one I haven’t put a lot of thought into. “I don’t know. I practically raised myself and my brothers. For now, that’s enough, but I think maybe one day I’d like to have a family.”
Lips pressed together, she nods. “I always liked kids, but I used to think…” Eyes misting over, she considers her little boy. “I don’t know.” She clears her throat. “That maybe I wasn’t worthy of them. Of being a mother. That I was too broken. Too tainted. For a long time, I couldn’t put those sensations into words. Seda was a surprise, and honestly, it’s best it happened that way. I don’t know that I could have convinced myself that I deserved the love of a child.” She inhales deeply, surveying me. “I hope the two of us can be friends.”
For a moment, I’m overwhelmed by the depth of this conversation, unsure of how to respond. But I shake off the uncertainty—I’m overthinking this like I do most things—and force myself to speak. “I would like that. I… I’m not big on sharing, but I think… I think I’d like to tell you a little about my past, if that’s okay?”
Salem nods, giving me a soft, encouraging smile. “Tell me as much or as little as you want.”
So I do.
This may be the longest trip I’ve ever taken to the grocery store. Not because I’m buying an abundance of food, but because Caleb is home, and I’m a big, fat chicken.
He texted not long after I got here, but the message remains marked unread on my phone.
I’m home. Where are you? The store? It’s a bit late for a trip to the grocery store, don’t you think?
Now that I’ve given him the go-ahead to take control, I’m nervous. He’d never take advantage of me. That’s not the issue. But the anticipation might kill me.
I take one aisle after another with methodical precision, crossing off each item on my list and adding plenty more. By the time I check out and head to my car, the sun is beginning to set.
As I load the groceries into the trunk, I mentally consider every reason I might need to stop on my way home. I come up empty. It’s time to stop stalling. I’m being ridiculous.
In the driveway behind Caleb’s Mercedes SUV, my beaten-up Honda is an eyesore. Stray pieces of gravel scattered clumsily on the asphalt crunch beneath my sneaker as I step out and turn at the sound of the screen door closing.
Caleb leans against the column, his body lithe, his arms crossed over his chest, his gaze appraising.
“Need help?” he calls out, lips lifting into a dangerous smirk.
“No, I’m good,” I lie, heart thudding in my ears, as I pop the trunk.
Why he even asked is beyond me, since he jogs down the steps and strides for me as if he didn’t hear my response. He’s there in an instant, arm brushing mine as he picks up all but one bag. One bag. With how effortless the move was, he easily could have gotten that one too, but he left it for me, knowing I would’ve fussed.
With a sigh, I pluck the last one up and slam the trunk, then follow him inside.
As I close the door behind me, I can’t help but ogle him, practically drooling over the way his bicep bulges as he lifts his arm and sets the bags down. From the look of concentration on his face, he isn’t focused on his muscles the way I am. Knowing he isn’t flexing for my attention makes it worse. He gets to work unloading the bags, organizing the items into sections as I set my lone sack on the counter and search the main floor for the twins.
“Where are my brothers?” I ask, concern seeping in and dousing the desire that hit me at the sight of Caleb. They were working on homework when I left. I figured they’d be finished and playing video games by now.
Gallon of milk in hand, Caleb turns to me. “They’re across the street. Cynthia’s teaching them how to make quiche, I think. And they’ve gotten into watching some reality show together.”
A scoff escapes me. “Seriously?”
Nodding, his lips kicked up on one side, he slips the milk onto the shelf in the fridge. “Mhm.”
I pick up two boxes of cereal and put them in the cabinet. “I feel like we’ve slipped into an alternate reality. My obnoxious brothers have become besties with the nosy elderly ladies across the street? I can’t wrap my head around it.”
Caleb laughs behind me. “I can. They’re alike in a lot of ways.”
Head tilted, I mull over his statement. “Huh. You have a point, actually.”
And spending time with the neighbors means my brothers are staying out of trouble. I think .
Just as relief hits me, my heart drops, taking the sensation with it. Because this means I’m alone with Caleb. Unless…
“Is Seda coming over for dinner?”
He shakes his head, stuffing one plastic bag into another. “She came over when I got home, but she’s staying next door for the rest of the night.”
I frown. “She hasn’t been here much lately. It’s not… it’s not my fault, is it?”
“What?” He snaps his head up, eyes wide. “No. She’s just being a preteen. She’s dealing with her first crush, and she gets flustered around your brothers. For now, I think she’d rather be with her mom.”
“Oh.” My stomach twists. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize that we were keeping her away. We can?—”
“Halle.” His firm tone causes me to snap my mouth shut. “It’s okay. Seda knows she’s welcome here any time she wants to be.”
“Yeah, but if our presence is taking your time away from her, then maybe it’s better if we figure something else out.”
He lays his hands flat on the stone countertop and narrows his eyes on me, his stare so intense I swear he can see right through me like my flesh and bones are nothing. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re incredibly stubborn and self-sacrificing?”
I frown. “No.”
“Well.” He leans toward me, and there go my eyes again, taking in the flex of his forearms and biceps. “You are.”
“Oh.”
“Mhm.” He spins, giving me his back again as he puts the bag of apples in the fridge. “What are you in the mood for?”
My brain short circuits. What am I in the mood for?
What kind of question is that?
And obviously, the answer is him.
He peers over his shoulder and adds, “For dinner.”
I busy myself putting away the box of pasta, hoping he can’t see the way my cheeks heat. “Oh, um…” I rack my brain, but it’s pointless. I’m all out of sorts. “I’m not that hungry, actually.”
“Well, I am.” He steps closer and looks me up and down. At least I think he does, but maybe my horny brain is making stuff up now.
“What about a grilled cheese?” he asks.
“Grilled cheese?” I stutter out in surprise. “For dinner?”
“Sure.” He pulls out the packages of cheeses he just put away. “I love a good grilled cheese.”
I eye the selection. “I’ve only ever used Kraft American cheese.”
He groans, his head tossed back. “You haven’t lived , Halle. It’s decided. I’m making grilled cheese for dinner.”
Seriously? This man is seriously talking about a grilled cheese right now, and all I can think about is whether he has any plans to get me naked.
“Slice this up for me?” He points to a loaf of sourdough.
“When did you get that?” I bump his hip with mine so I can get a knife from the drawer.
“Seda brought it over with her. Apparently, Salem is trying her hand at making bread. ”
My chest tightens a fraction at the mention of his ex-wife. “I had lunch with her today.”
“Yeah? How’d that go?” He pulls out the grater and gets to work on the cheese.
“It was good.” I slice the bread carefully, ensuring each one isn’t too thick. “I like her.”
“Salem’s pretty hard not to like. I think you two could be friends.”
“I’m not good at making friends,” I admit, keeping my focus fixed on my task.
He goes still, his gaze boring into me. “Could’ve fooled me. Aren’t we friends?”
“Yeah, but that was all you.” I throw a smile his way. “You’re kind of persistent.”
“Only about things that matter,” he says, expression earnest.
“And I matter?”
He wets his lips with a small swipe of his tongue, his attention dropping to my mouth. “You know you do.”
Caleb takes the bread from me and butters one side of each slice. He adds a sprinkle of shredded parmesan cheese on top before putting it that side down in the preheated pan. Without looking up, he adds a selection of cheeses to it, then finishes by setting a second slice of bread on top.
“That’s an interesting concoction you have going there.”
Spatula in hand, he lifts the sandwich just a little to see how it’s browning. “You’re going to be begging me for it every day.”
My silly, touch-starved brain takes that sentence and runs with it, my core pulling tighter and a thrill zipping through me.
He flips the sandwich, the fresh buttery side sizzling in the pan. “I can feel you staring at me.” He peers over his shoulder, his blue irises a deeper shade than usual.
I don’t bother to look away. “Guilty.”
Though I’ve been apprehensive about being alone with him all day, I’m instantly thankful my brothers aren’t here. I need this man to kiss me and put me out of my misery, and I’m not sure I would allow him to do that if they were around.
I’ve never… They’ve never seen me with a boyfriend. If that’s even what Caleb is. I guess I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one. I’ve had flings and one-night stands, but never a relationship that warranted an introduction to my brothers. But they already know Caleb. Not only that, but I’m not just their sister anymore. I’m their guardian. I want to set a good example for them. I don’t want to be like Mom, bringing home all the wrong kinds of guys, allowing virtual strangers near the boys.
This situation with Caleb is the farthest thing from it. Even so, it’s hard to shake the fear that I might be like her.
Caleb slides the finished grilled cheese onto a plate and passes it to me and says “let it cool a bit” before he gets to work assembling the next sandwich. As he places the second piece of bread on top of the first, he side-eyes me. “What’s on your mind?”
Ugh. This man. This sweet, kind, annoyingly perfect man sees through all of me. I can’t hide a single worry from him .
“Nothing,” I lie, tracing my finger along a line in the stone countertop.
A low rumble starts in his chest. “Halle.”
My name is both a plea and a warning.
I should know better than to lie to him.
But the trauma that’s clung to me my whole life makes keeping my thoughts and vulnerabilities to myself feel safer. I’m afraid to divulge the insecurities of my mind, but the truth is that if I want this thing with Caleb, I have to learn to open up. But, God, is it harder than it should be.
“I just… what are we?” I ask, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
He slides the spatula under the second grilled cheese and puts the sandwich on a plate. Then he turns, leaning back against the counter, and zeroes in on me.
“What do you want to be?”
My stomach flips at the intensity in his tone. “I don’t know, but not because I don’t like you. I don’t know how to do this.” I wave a hand between us. “I’ve never dated before. I don’t know the rules. I don’t know what signs to look for to determine whether this is serious or when to determine it’s not worth pursuing.”
His lips tip up slowly, his smile as breathtaking as the sun slowly rising in the sky. “If I’d thought you’d be okay with me calling you my girlfriend, I would’ve started already.”
“Caleb.” I drop my face into my hands to hide my embarrassment.
“Hey.” His tone is gentle, as are his hands when he carefully pulls them away. Standing in front of me, he says, “We don’t have to put a label on this yet. Not if you aren’t ready. We’ve only known each other a few months. I understand your hesitation.”
“You do?” The damn question comes out watery, the threat of tears close. What is it about this man that rattles me this way? I’ve never been much of a crier, but it’s like he knows exactly how to hit those most sensitive parts of my soul.
“You’re scared and?—”
“I’m not scared,” I grit out, trying to wriggle my way out of his hold.
He holds on tighter, but not so tight that I couldn’t actually get away if I wanted. “You are scared, and it’s okay, I’m scared too.”
My heart stutters. “You are?”
“Mhm,” he hums, blue eyes warm and deep as he surveys me, no doubt cataloging my freckles or the small mole on my lip. “Downright terrified.”
“Why?” The question comes out small. Meek. Like a little mouse squeaking in fear.
“Because”—he angles in, his lips finding the curve of my ear—“I’m not sure I could survive losing you.”
I close my eyes and grasp the front of his hoodie to keep myself upright.
Falling in love is, without a doubt, the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. Even if I’m not ready to admit that’s what this is, deep down, I know it. I’m not fully there yet, but I am in the free-fall phase. And even though he’s right here with me, I’m not ready to fully trust he’ll be there to catch me when I land.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” he whispers against my ear. “If that’s okay.”
I nod, and just in case that’s not good enough, I beg him with a soft, pathetic “please.”
He obliges instantly, his left-hand delving into my hair as he devours me.
I melt at his touch, like butter in a hot pan.
He deepens the kiss, fingers tightening on my hair until the sensation borders on pain.
I had my first kiss at thirteen. I’ve kissed plenty of guys since.
But Caleb?
He doesn’t just kiss me. He claims me.
With a whimper, I try to pull him closer, even though he’s as close as he can get unless he could melt inside me.
I’d welcome it if it were possible.
He chuckles, the sound warm and husky against my mouth. “Look at you. Fucking desperate for me. You can’t deny it anymore, can you, Halle?” With a groan, he peppers kisses down the column of my throat. “You want me.”
“Y-Yes,” I whimper. There’s no denying it anymore.
Delicately, he slides his hands down my sides. Between one heartbeat and another, his touch turns rougher, more demanding, and he grasps my hips and lifts me up from the stool abruptly, pulling a squeal from me. He deposits me on the countertop, lips finding mine once more.
My heart beats out of control as our tongues tangle. The roar of ocean waves crashes in my ears as Caleb envelops me, every part of him threatening to pull me under. His smell, his taste, his sounds. It’s all too much; it’s too good .
I don’t do good . All the good I’ve ever experienced has been taken from me. The smart thing to do would be to push him away, grab my shit and my brothers, and get the hell out of here. But I can’t . Leaving Caleb would create an open, gaping wound in my side.
Besides, I’m so tired of running. For once, I can’t help but wish that something in my life would go right, and I want that thing to be him.
“If”—he nips at my earlobe—“at any point you want me to stop, just say stop, and I will.”
A shudder works its way through me, heat pooling in my core. “I’m not going to ask you to stop.”
He pulls away a fraction, and already, the air has chilled. “Regardless, I need you to know that, if you want me to, I will.”
I nod my response.
But he shakes his head. “With words, Halle.”
With a long exhale, I release my hold on his hoodie and twine them in the hair at his nape instead. “If I want you to stop, I’ll ask you.”
I hope I don’t sound as desperate as I feel. I need his lips on mine again. His hands all over me. My earlier reservations and insecurities have quickly been overtaken by the much stronger need to be possessed by him.
He smiles. “Good. I like that you listen.” With renewed fire in his eyes, he presses his open mouth to my neck and sucks.
I should be concerned that he’ll leave evidence behind, a mark on my skin, but all rational thought has fled my brain, and my body has taken over. My hand against the back of his head presses him impossibly closer, begging for a closeness, a connection, I can’t put into words.
“Can I make you come?” He whispers against my skin. “Please.”
The heat in my low belly simmers. Fuck .
Did this man seriously just beg to give me an orgasm? Have I reached some sort of pinnacle of heaven I didn’t know existed?
“Yes,” I breathe, tipping my head back so he has better access to my neck. “God. Yes, please.”
He lets out a gruff chuckle, finding my mouth and stealing a kiss that leaves me reeling. “So fucking eager.” We don’t separate as he finds the button on my jeans. Then the zipper. When his fingers slip beneath the band of my underwear and he finds my soaking wet core, I cry out.
He moans, the sound low and guttural, and as he pulls back, his hazy eyes hold mine prisoner. “All this for me, Halle? I’m so fucking lucky.”
He slips a finger inside me and curls it, sending a zap of electricity through me.
“More.”
As he breaks into a grin, he buries his face in my neck like he wants to hide the expression from me. “You’re so fucking perfect, Halle. My girl wants more?”
I nod over and over again, my breaths choppy. “Yes.”
“Yes, what?” He bites at my collarbone.
“Yes, please.”
I’m rewarded for my obedience with a soft kiss to my lips. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, adding another finger to the first. I’m stretched, though I’m still not full enough, but I’ll take what I can get.
He pumps his fingers slowly, thumb pressed to my clit. The sensations, coupled with his soft words of praise, send me hurtling toward the urge far more quickly than I could have anticipated.
“I’m—”
He cuts my words off with a kiss.
His tongue is still tangling with mine when I come apart on his fingers. I shatter into a million pieces, yet, somehow, he holds every one. It might be the most intense orgasm I’ve ever had. If I’m still mostly clothed, then I can’t imagine what?—
In one quick move, he pulls my jeans and underwear off and drops them to the kitchen floor. They look out of place in his neat space, melted onto the floor like a popsicle.
“Prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he whispers, eyes glued to my center.
Hit with a bolt of insecurity, I bring my knees together.
With two warm, gentle hands on my thighs, he stops me, pushing me open wider for his viewing pleasure. “Did I tell you to close your legs?”
I don’t respond, the combination of desire and relief and trepidation making it impossible to form words.
Ducking so we’re eye to eye, he prompts me again with a stern “Halle?”
Words shaky, I finally breathe out, “No. You didn’t.”
“So”—he arches a brow—“why did you try?”
My cheeks heat. “I don’t know. ”
“Hmm,” he hums. “Is it because you don’t want my fingers inside you again?”
Heart stumbling, I squeak. “That’s not?—”
“Or my mouth?”
I whimper, the sound pulling a cocky grin out of him.
“Ah, so you do want my mouth on this sweet cunt?”
“Yes.” My abdominal muscles flex, warmth flooding me again.
“Yes, what?” he teases, smirk growing. “Come on, Halle. I thought you knew the magic word by now.”
My breath hitches. “Please.”
Eyes darkening, he murmurs, “That’s my girl.”
Caleb drops to his knees with a groan, parting my folds with his fingers. “Fuck.” His eyes flick up to mine. “I can’t wait to taste you, sweetheart.”
Sweetheart? I’m at risk of melting into a puddle on the floor beside my pants. No one has ever called me that before. Prickly? Sure. Stuck-up bitch? Plenty of times. But sweetheart? Never, and I… I hate that I like it.
Without warning, his mouth is on me, his tongue flicking my clit. I cry out, lying back on the cool marble. The little bundle of nerves is already sensitive, so almost immediately, I’m wiggling against him, a whimper falling from my lips. He presses a hand to my pelvis to hold me still, the move making the sensations all the more intense.
He works his tongue against me, licking and sucking, bringing me to the edge and pulling away just as the waves of pleasure crest. Each time, I cry out in protest, and each time, I swear his smug grin gets bigger. Before I can catch my breath and curse him out, though, he dives back in.
Caleb Thorne eats pussy like it’s his life mission. Like there’s nothing more important than bringing me pleasure. His enthusiasm only heightens the sensation.
When he finally gets tired of edging me and lets me come, I scream, my thighs shaking. Then he’s there, standing between my legs, his mouth on mine to silence me.
When I finally come to, he backs away, eyes hooded and his erection straining against his sweatpants impressively. Damn, I’m going to be sore .
“Fuck me,” I beg. “Please.” I reach for him, but he grasps my wrists and shakes his head.
The rejection is like a knife to the chest, making it hard to breathe.
But his words are tender, his eyes soft. “Not yet.”
“Why not?” I protest, sitting up on my elbows. My pussy is still on full display for him, but suddenly I don’t feel so shy about it. “Do you want me to beg?”
He breaks into a slow grin and cups his erection. “I love it when you beg, but no, that’s not the reason.”
Eyes narrowed, I sit up. “Then what is?”
“When I finally fuck you, Halle, I’ll have all the time I need. I’m going to make it perfect for you. You’ll be screaming my name for the whole neighborhood to hear. Do you understand?”
I nod like a bobblehead, heart hammering again.
“I don’t want to worry that your brothers are gonna walk through the door. Got me?”
How is it possible this man can render me so speechless? I stick with nodding. It’s all I can manage .
Rubbing at his jaw, he snags my discarded jeans and underwear. Then, with ease, he slips my underwear up my legs and pulls me off the counter so he can situate them on my hips.
“I’ve got this,” I say, reaching for my jeans.
“No.” He pulls them away. “I undressed you. I’ll redress you.”
“Oh.” The word is barely audible, my face once again heating.
He taps my right calf. “Leg up, sweetheart.”
I do as he says, placing a hand on his shoulder to steady myself. He works my jeans up both calves and thighs and over my hips. Then he buttons and zips them up with an ease I envy.
When he steps away from me, I shiver at the loss of his body heat.
With a final smirk, he spins on his heel and starts for the stairs. “I need another shower.”
His antics break the intensity of the moment and pull a laugh from deep within me.
“Hard as a fucking rock,” he adds, dragging his feet up the first few stairs.
He turns and winks, then he disappears from sight, making my stomach stir with that feeling that only seems to appear around him—the one that terrifies me.