Chapter 11
Brooke
I t’s after eleven when the doorbell chimes. I look down at my slipper-clad feet as Ribsy gets up from her dog bed.
“Woof.” The dog pricks her ears and stalks toward the door. She’s swinging her tail, knocking the half-empty box of Captain Crunch off the table. A sign it’s not a serial killer on my porch?
“A murderer might not ring the bell,” I point out to Ribsy as we head for the door. “You think it’s Kaleb?”
“Woof.”
“Exactly.” A tingle rolls through me as I glance at the alarm’s control panel. He’s there on my steps, looking rumpled and tired, but delicious. “It’s him.”
Ribsy’s tail swishes faster and my belly’s doing the same. I pad down the hall with a smile on my face and plans for great sex on my mind.
“Kaleb, hi— oh .” He hugs me so hard that he topples me backward. “Whoa, hey—good to see you, too.”
“Brooke.” His mouth’s in my hair and he’s holding me tight, swaying a little. “God, Brooke.”
“What’s wrong?” Alarm bells ring in my mind. “Kaleb? Did something happen?”
“Yeah.” He doesn’t let go, but he does ease up on the hug. It’s more of a loving embrace than a heartfelt stranglehold. “Yeah, something happened, but I’m okay.”
So this is…a happy greeting?
I can’t get a read, which might be because I can’t see him. Not his face. I’m pressed to his chest, which feels solid and warm, even as his heart thuds like a battering ram.
It’s so comforting here that I don’t want to leave his arms, but I need to know what’s happening. “Kaleb?” I peel myself out of the hug and look up at his face. “Have you been crying?”
“Yeah.” He gives a lopsided grin, and I love him more in that moment than I ever thought possible.
Not love. Admire.
Seriously, though—how many burly mechanics would admit to tears?
“You’re okay, though.” I run through his family in my mind, wondering what happened at dinner. “Is Harper all right? Or Lucy—oh my God, is she pregnant?”
“What? No . I don’t think so.” He shakes his head like he’s trying to clear it. “It’s my mother.”
“She was there?” Please, please say she didn’t fall off the wagon. “Did you talk?”
“Yeah, we talked.” He searches my eyes, releasing a breath he must’ve been holding. “God, Brooke.”
This time, I’m braced for the hug. Wrapping my arms around him, I hold on tight. My palms rub circles on his back, working to soothe him. To assure him I’m here, no matter what happened tonight. If he’s happy or sad or confused…well, I’m here for it.
Not always. Not if you’re leaving ?—
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He lets go again, then bends to pet Ribsy. “I owe you a run on the beach, don’t I?” He shoots me a guilty look. “You don’t know how badly I want to fall into bed with you and not come up for air until midnight, but Ribsy needs a run.”
“You’re in luck.” Also, I love his plan. “Maxine and Sam took her out. They were gone for an hour, and everyone came back panting and soggy.”
He drags a hand through his hair. “Are they still here?”
“Sam and Max?”
“Never mind—privacy’s hardly an issue in a freakin’ mansion.”
“We need privacy?” For the bedroom antics, or something else? “They’re in Newport at some romantic B&B.” I gave Max the weekend off. “We’re completely alone.”
“Thank God. There’s stuff I want to tell you. I need—God, Brooke.” He drags a hand through his hair, looking hungry and wild. “All I could think about on my way here is opening up about everything. But seeing you now, I want you so badly. So much I can’t see straight.”
“I want you, too.” The clinician in me wants to point out the connection between arousal and deeply emotional catharsis, but that isn’t necessary. “Take me to bed.”
His mouth crushes mine in a kiss as he steers me down the hall. My hands find their way to his back, and we kiss as I stumble in reverse down the hall. I laugh and nip at his bottom lip, tripping on the rug. “Sorry.”
“Fuck it,” he says as our legs tangle up. “This is faster.”
“What? Oh !”
I gasp as his left arm hooks under my knees, and he scoops me up. “We’ll get there quicker like this.”
“Kaleb, you’re nuts.” I laugh and hold on for dear life. “I highly doubt this is faster.”
“Maybe not,” he says, pausing to kiss me. “But I don’t have to take my hands off you this way.”
I can’t argue with that. “This throwing me over your shoulder thing is becoming a habit.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No.” Not at all, though I’ve never been one for the caveman approach. Kaleb’s making me love it. “You’ve got great arms.”
“Thanks.”
He shoves through the door of my room, tossing me back on the bed. Lying beside me, he brushes the hair from my face. “You wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”
“You want to tell me about it now?”
“No.” He kisses his way down my throat. “Not yet.” He’s at the collar of my shirt now, working the buttons like it’s an Olympic sport. “I will, but after.”
I gasp as he kisses my belly. My hands find the hem of his shirt. “Do we have time to undress, or is this more urgent?”
“Naked,” he says, and yanks off his long-sleeved tee. “You, too.”
I’m out of my jeans in a heartbeat. When I reach for my bra, he stops me.
“Let me.” He touches the silk with wonder in his eyes. “Another new one?”
“Yes,” I breathe as his hands cup my breasts. “Hayley said it’s—” Never mind. “I’ll stop talking about your ex when you’re about to be inside me.”
He laughs and lays me back on the bed. “For the record, it’s never been like this with anyone else, Brooke.” He kisses my breasts and I lose my mind. “There’s no one like you.”
“Same.” It’s true, but I can’t wrap my mind around that now. Whatever he’s doing with his tongue paints flickers of light on the back of my eyelids. “Don’t stop.”
Kaleb stops anyway, eyes searching mine. “You’re sure this is okay? I don’t want to use you as some emotional outlet.”
“Use me,” I say, kissing him hard. “You have my enthusiastic consent.”
We kiss for a few minutes more. Maybe hours. Time stops meaning much. I’m lost in sensation as his hand dips inside my panties. I’m slippery and hot as his fingertip coaxes me open.
“You’re so wet.” He kisses me again. “So wet and ready for me.”
“Are you trying to make me come?” I arch my hips up. “Because it’s working. Wait.” Panting, I pull back from the edge. “How was yesterday’s checkup?”
He blinks and then smiles, aware I’m not asking about cholesterol. “All clear,” he says, kissing his way down my stomach. “You?”
“Healthy as an ox.” Maybe not the sexiest image. “Does it count as foreplay to show you my birth control implant?”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Hooking my thighs over his shoulders, he smiles. “Let me taste you first.”
I’m not one to argue with that. He’s licking and swirling, making me dizzy with his mouth. I ball up the sheets in my hands.
“Kaleb,” I pant, knowing I’m close to the edge. “Please. Inside me. I want—I’m so close.”
He somehow makes sense of that jumble of words. Naked and bold in the glow of my bedside lamp, he crawls up my body. Bracing himself on his forearms, he searches my eyes. “I’ve never done this before.”
Lust makes my brain go unfocused. “Um?—”
“Without a condom, I mean.” He offers an uncertain smile. “You’re sure about this?”
“I’m sure.” God, am I sure. I open my legs, using a hand to guide him inside me. “Kaleb. My God .”
He curses and starts to move slowly. Eyes locked with mine, he looks like he might not be blinking. Or breathing, except I just felt his chest rise. It’s pressing against me, our bodies wound tightly together.
“You’re perfect.” He drives deep inside me and my heart flips sideways. “So fucking perfect.”
“Kaleb.” I claw at his shoulders, legs wrapped around him to contain all this power. “You feel so good.”
We’ve had sex before, obviously. Dozens of times, but it’s never felt like this. It isn’t the condom thing, either. It’s something else, maybe Kaleb himself. He’s ragged and raw, but so filled with life I can feel it.
“Brooke,” he breathes, feeling it too. “Honey, I can’t hold out. I need to slow down or?—”
“Do it.” Locking my legs at his hips, I drag him deeper. “Please.”
I don’t really think I can come this fast, but he needs this. I see it in his eyes, the desperate urge for release.
“Oh, God—Brooke.”
Something shatters inside me. The orgasm catches me off guard, snatching the breath from my lungs. Pleasure rips through my core, making me howl. I call out his name, clutching his back as he drives in again and again.
It goes on forever, this synchronized swell and then ebb. I lose track of each pulse, each stroke of his body, until we both lie breathless and spent.
“Jesus,” I pant, curling one hand on his chest. “Whatever happened tonight, remind me to send a thank you card to your family.”
I’m trying for cheeky, but the truth?
That was the best damn sex of my life.
Kaleb turns his head and looks at me. “I love you,” he says, and my heart stops.
Holy shit.
Of all the things I thought he’d say, that never made the list. I open my mouth with no clue what might come out.
“Don’t say it back,” he says quickly, fingertip skimming the edge of my lip. “I don’t want this to be some forced thing.” He brushes the sweat-sticky hair off my forehead. “I just needed to put that out there before I tell you the rest.”
“The rest of what?” My mind’s still reeling from the sex and the words he’s just said. “What happened tonight, Kaleb?”
Peeling my hand off his chest, he kisses my fingertips one by one. “I knew all along that my mom wasn’t dead.”
I blink.
Here I thought “I love you” was the most shocking thing he could say. “Explain.”
He lets go of my hand, turning to cup the side of my face. “For years, she sent hints.”
The other shoe drops, and I open my mouth. “The rocks.”
“Yes.” His forehead creases. “You guessed?”
“It makes sense.” I’m still not sure I understand. “So she…what? Showed up in town, leaving rocks for her kids?”
“Not for her kids.” The pain in his eyes says this isn’t some sweet little story. “Just me. I’m the only one who knew.”
“Oh, God.” I can’t imagine that burden. “Kaleb, honey…” I’m at a loss for words.
“Yeah,” he says softly. “And I kept it from my siblings.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” I can’t even imagine. “Tell me the rest.”
So he does, starting with the childhood tale of running away to Gold Beach. To the place he imagined would sparkle and gleam. To his mother’s struggle with demons she couldn’t beat. Her own delusional daydreams, shared only with her second-born son, of running away from home. How she’d see her sweet boy in the place where everything glittered.
“I believed it at first, when Owen said she’d died.” He sounds almost guilty. “Some small, awful part of me felt relief.”
“That’s understandable.” I hope he knows that’s normal. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of for that.”
He’s stroking my back, letting his fingertips trail down my shoulders. “Then the rocks started showing up and my God, Brooke—I can’t describe the relief. The anger and sadness and confusion and joy and all these other feelings I couldn’t name. It’s been like that for years. Literal years of holding this in.”
He's not holding back anymore. “It sounds like it felt good to get that out. To finally talk with your mom.”
“Yes.” He traces the shell of my ear with a fingertip. “I didn’t know how awful I felt until—” He laughs a little sheepishly. “Until I didn’t feel awful anymore.” He kisses me softly on the lips. “You’re a big part of that.”
“Me?” I’m more inclined to credit his mother. Or Kaleb himself, really. “I’m just glad you got answers. That you finally spoke up and told her how you feel.”
He kisses the tip of my nose. “If it weren’t for you, I’m not sure I ever would have found the balls to talk to her. I’d have held it inside, festering and eating me up.”
“Don’t give me credit.” He did the hard work himself. “That was all you, Kaleb. I can’t imagine the courage it took to have that conversation.” How hard it must have been, dealing with his mother’s abandonment. With the burden she placed on just him.
“I feel so relieved.” He looks in my eyes and one edge of his mouth quirks up. “Everything feels different. Everything.”
The words I love you hang in the air. Did he say it for real or in a surge of emotion?
I can’t think about that right now. We’ll sort it out later, after things settle down. What Kaleb needs now is safety and calm.
I can do that.
I snuggle in closer, wrapping my arms around him. With my head on his chest, I feather my fingers through his hair.
“Do you feel it?” he asks, and I nod.
“Yes.”
I’m not sure we mean the same thing.
It’s Tuesday at two and I’m working at Weirdoughs. I know it’s odd to take my laptop to a coffee shop when my publisher rented a freakin’ mansion for me to write in, but I like the energy in this place.
I love how I recognize the elderly couple in the corner, sharing a cranberry scone. Or the dark-haired librarian with an extra-large latte, her two little boys speaking Spanish.
Erika runs in and scoops up a four-pack of coffee, waving to me as she heads for the door. “Caffeine emergency,” she calls with a wave. “Good luck with the writing.”
Guess everyone knows who I am, what I’m doing here. It’s nice, in a way. This must be what Grace loved so much about travel. Not the places, but the connections. These colorful threads binding people together.
“Hey, Brooke.”
I look up and see Kaleb’s cousin. “Hazel, hi.”
She’s in dark jeans with a chic cashmere sweater coat and her hair pulled back in a waterfall. There’s a plate in her hand and a gracious expression on her face. “We missed you at family dinner.”
“I missed you, too.” I tip my head toward the opposite bench. “Have a seat. I don’t need to take up a whole table.”
She looks around at the mostly empty café. “I think you’re okay.”
But she slides into the booth on the opposite side. She sets down a small china plate piled with three perfect petit fours. When she sees me looking, she nudges the plate to the middle. “Want one?”
“I’m good.” I grin in spite of myself. “I’ve been here an hour and already put down a cinnamon roll and two snickerdoodles.”
“Good for you.” Hazel pulls the plate back in front of her. “How’s the book coming?”
“So great.” I don’t mean to brag, but it’s true. “I can’t believe how well it’s flowing. I’ve been reading my editor’s notes, and she loves it. Really minor feedback instead of major edits.”
“That’s not how it normally goes?”
“Some books are more of a struggle.” How much does she know? “Especially one about grieving my sister.”
“That must be hard.” Hazel looks up as a waitress delivers her coffee. Caramel soy latte, which Hazel confirms and then thanks her.
As she turns back to me, she looks thoughtful. “I read How’s That Working for You .”
“Thank you,” I say automatically, though she didn’t actually say she liked it. “For reading it, I mean. I hope it was helpful.”
“It was.” She pauses, picking at one of the petit fours. “I’m not sure how much you know about our family.”
“I know your father’s in prison.” No sense pretending otherwise. “That must be painful.”
Hazel looks down at her plate. “My dad made some poor choices.” She picks at a petit four without taking a bite. “I understand some of those choices prompted Aunt Sarah to make her own choices. Hurtful things that affected her kids.”
So Kaleb must’ve told her. I knew he called each of his siblings, but he didn’t mention Hazel. “How do you feel about that?”
“It’s not really my place to have feelings about it.” She picks up her mug and takes a slow sip.
“It’s always your place to have whatever feelings you have about any family situation.” Does she really not think so? “You’re impacted, even if Sarah wasn’t your mother.”
Glancing away, she sets down her coffee. “When your father’s the one who created the drama, you don’t really get to be the victim. It’s okay. I know what he did hurt everyone else.” With a pensive expression, she looks out the window. “I still love him.”
“Of course you do. That’s completely normal.” The dip of her brows says she doesn’t believe me. “I’ve worked with clients whose loved ones committed horrible crimes. We’re talking assault, murder…” I trail off when someone looks up from the table beside us. “Family’s family. Just because they do terrible things doesn’t mean you don’t feel deeply connected to them.”
“I suppose.” She sounds like she’s not quite sure. “Aunt Sarah’s struggling. So is Kaleb, I think.”
I need to tread carefully here. I can’t betray Kaleb’s confidence. “What makes you say so?”
She shrugs and looks out the window. “I think it might help if they talk to my father.”
“Help whom?”
“Everyone.” She flutters a hand like she’s flustered. “I know the whole family hates him, and they have every right. But holding on to that—” She stops and shakes her head slowly. “I don’t know. My father’s sorry. He says he regrets what he did.”
I don’t see that making up for much. “I saw footage from the trial.”
That wasn’t a regretful man in those clips. The local news played it last week for some Where are they now? segment. I was curled on the couch beside Kaleb and instantly felt him go tense.
He shut off the channel two minutes in.
Hazel nods curtly. “I know at the trial he seemed unremorseful, but he’s had time to think. I—maybe. I don’t know. I just thought it might help with the closure. For them. For my dad. I—you know what? Forget I said anything.” She shakes her head and looks down at her plate. “It’s silly.”
“It’s not silly.” I reach over and cover her hand with mine. “Does your dad want to see Sarah Lou?” That’s something she’d want to clear with her sponsor. “Or the rest of the family, for that matter?”
“I can’t honestly say about Jake and Mason and Lucy and the others.” Curling a hand on her mug, she doesn’t pick it up. “But I think Sarah’s hurting. Kaleb, too—more than the others, you know?”
I do know. He’s seemed tense since the chat with his mother. As much as he thinks he’s found closure, I’m not sure he’s there yet.
I’m a little surprised Hazel noticed.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say. Maybe she’s right. “I’m leaving town Thursday. That might be a good time for them to make the trip.” I’m assuming the prison is near Salem or Portland.
Hazel tilts her head. “Where are you going?”
“Back to LA.”
She blinks. “For good?”
“Eventually, yes.” Something twists in my chest, which is silly. My stay here has always had a time limit. “I have meetings with my publisher that can’t be done virtually. We had a podcast go viral, and there’s talk of setting a new book tour.”
“That’s exciting.” She hesitates. “Kaleb’s quite fond of you.”
“And I’m fond of him.” Where is this coming from? “We agreed from the start that this couldn’t be serious, but I’ve come to care for him a great deal.”
Hazel looks at me a long time. “Okay,” she says softly, looking down at her drink. “I’m glad you’re both on the same page.”
For the first time, I’m not sure we are.
My suitcase lies open on the bed. I’ve got the phone to my ear, since I’ve already packed all my earbuds.
“I miss you,” Kaleb says, and I smile.
“I miss you, too.” Will I need this sweater in LA? Better pack it anyway. “Lousy timing on our part, huh?”
“Yeah.” There’s a tinny sound that might be a tent zipper. He’s camping with Parker on the McKenzie River. A fishing trip they do every fall. “If I’d known you’d be flying out Thursday, I’d have postponed the trip.”
“Don’t be silly. I know you don’t see Parker enough.” He looks forward to this trip every year. “He has to get back to Alaska, so it’s really your only shot.”
“Still.” He’s quiet a moment, and I brace for another I love you . He hasn’t said it since that night, and part of me feels relieved. Now’s not the time to go complicating things. “Can I pick you up at the airport?”
“In Portland?” I tuck four pairs of socks in my suitcase. “That’s a long way to go.” More than six hours of round-trip driving.
I can’t ask him to do that, as much as I’d love to see him. “Besides, I’m still not sure when I’ll be back. My agent set up these meetings and?—”
“God, Brooke.” He sighs. “Sorry. Just feeling a little bit raw.”
“I hear you.” I stop packing to give him my full attention. “It’s a lot, what you’ve been through with your mom.”
“Yeah.” There’s a rustle on the other end, and I picture him tucking himself into a sleeping bag.
I’ve never been camping.
“Parker’s pissed,” Kaleb says.
“About the situation with your mother?”
“Yeah. He hasn’t said it in so many words, but he left a minute ago to buy more beef jerky. We’ve already got two bags.” He sighs. “I should have told them sooner. About Mom.”
“And hurt them then instead of now?” I understand why he chose what he did. “You did the best you could.”
“Maybe.” He’s not convinced.
“Would it help to visit your uncle?”
“Owen?” He sounds dumbfounded. “What for?”
“It might offer some closure.” I have to admit, Hazel has a point. “For you, for your mom?—”
“I don’t really think—” He cuts off his own argument. “I guess I could think about it.”
He sounds so down. I can’t give him the same kind of grief release he gave me. There’s no wind-whipped cape I can drive him to that’ll make things clearer in his head. In his heart . “I wish I could give you a great big hug.”
“I wish that, too.” He’s quiet a moment. “I’d kill to have you in this sleeping bag with me.”
“Sounds like a tight squeeze.”
“Probably.” There’s the hint of a chuckle in his voice. “Guess we’d have to take our clothes off to fit.”
I laugh as relief rolls through me. He might sound defeated, but Kaleb’s still with me. He’s processing it all as best he can, just cycling through the stages.
Maybe there is something I can do to help.
“What are you wearing?”
Kaleb pauses. “Sweatpants. Flannel shirt.” Another pause. “Why?”
“Just thinking about phone sex.” Once I move back to LA, that’ll have to get us through. That’s assuming he still wants to connect. We haven’t really talked about it.
“Phone sex?” He sounds intrigued. “I’m listening.”
“You’re alone?”
“Yeah, but—” A pause. “This is like riding in an airplane.”
“What?” I’m lost.
“I’ve never done it before.” He chuckles. “I’m willing to give it a shot.”
“I haven’t done it, either.” Wait. “Hang on.”
I open my laptop and click a few keystrokes. “I just saw this master class online.”
“Huht?”
I flip to the icon I know I saw earlier. Where was that again? “I was uploading my own class this morning.” I should clarify. “Mine wasn’t a sex class.”
“Glad you cleared that up.” There’s amusement in his voice, and something else. “Someone taught a master class on phone sex?”
“I know it’s here somewhere…” There’s one on investing, and another on training your dog. “Found it!”
“Okay.” He clears his throat. “You really think we need a class?”
“I mean, we’re both phone sex virgins?—”
“Right, okay, yeah.” He chuckles. “I guess that’s all right.”
I pull up the online synopsis. “Okay, the first lesson focuses on foreplay.”
“We’re really doing this?” He sounds more intrigued than befuddled. “What’s phone sex foreplay?”
I’m scrolling as fast as I can. “We should work up to it with sexting—emojis and stuff. Saying what you want to do.”
“Nailed it.” There’s a definite smile in his voice. “With our very first text chat.”
“That’s right.” Heat stains my cheeks as I keep reading. “Okay, we can also use words, either texting or voice.”
“Let’s go with voice.” There’s a rustle and I picture him shifting the phone to his other ear. “Might need our hands for other stuff.”
“Good point.” I scroll through a section with examples. Picking one at random, I read it out loud. “‘You should have your pants off when you get home.’”
“I’m riding with Parker,” he says. “I don’t think he’d like my bare ass on his seats.”
“No, that’s the example here. Except I read it wrong—I was supposed to say you should have your pants off when I get home.”
“Shouldn’t we both take our pants off?” He’s definitely smiling. “I’m no expert, but generally sex works best when no one’s wearing pants.”
“Maybe we’ve got foreplay covered.” I move to the next section. “Okay, it says here we should talk about specific sex acts that have already happened.”
“Between us, presumably?”
“Presumably.” I scroll to the set of examples. “‘I loved when you sucked my cock last week.’”
“Um—”
“Sorry, I read the wrong one.” I touch the screen to track my place in the list. “‘It feels so nice when you squeeze my ass.’”
“Yeah?” He sounds charmed. “Or is that just on the list?”
“Both.” I picture Kaleb’s big hands on my butt and get squirmy. “It says we should be specific. Name body parts and what we’d like to do with them.”
“I need to blow my nose.” He sniffs. “Maybe not what they meant?”
“Probably not.” God, he’s adorable. “We’re supposed to watch the video for examples with this one. I’m guessing it’s more than a list of body parts?—”
“Elbow,” he says. “Thumb. Knuckle. Forearm. Are you hot for me yet?”
I look up from the laptop. The hoodie he loaned me on our beach walk last night sits on top of my dresser. Pulling it on, I breathe in the scent of Kaleb. “Yes,” I say. “I am.”
“Yeah?” He chuckles again, and I want him so much it’s insane. “I miss you, Brooke.”
“I miss you, too.” I know I shouldn’t. A thousand miles separate his home from mine, even after this trip. “How about we have sex for real the next time we’re both in the same zip code?”
“Deal.” He pauses, maybe waiting for me to say something.
I love you.
But I can’t say that. We agreed at the start we can’t go there. What he said the other night was just emotions running high. That’s all. He didn’t really mean it.
“Good night, Brooke.”
“Good night.” Hugging his sweatshirt around me, I close my eyes. “Hurry home.”