Chapter 5 #2
“Oh God.” He laughed. Caleb sat up straight and rested his elbows on his knees to offer his hands to hers. His back rounded, those handsome muscles showing subtly through his shirt. It was attractive to her, those shadowy arcs on his back.
She stood before him and asked, “It’s not too cold outside for you? Where’s your sweater?”
He looked down. “I didn’t want to bother with it. I wanted to get here as quickly as possible. It ain’t too bad outside.”
To his surprise, she didn’t sit next to him.
She knelt on her knees right in front of him on the floor.
His face changed. As she opened the bottle and squirted the shea butter on her palm, one shoulder cocked playfully, and she smirked at him.
It wasn’t meant to be sexual, rather endearing and affectionate.
His eyes wandered to see how her light-brown hair cascaded down her full breasts that were kept snuggly lifted by a gray lounge bra, and her pink tank top allowed him to see the beauty of her collarbone and the curvature of her narrow shoulders.
Even though her belly had a few rolls and hung over her lap, the silhouette of her pear-shaped hips complimented it perfectly.
His ex-wife was a lot thinner than Evie was, and he had never found bigger girls attractive before, but there was something divine and welcoming about her fuller figure. That belly would be an amazing pillow to rest his head on. Her hips would be amazing to hold.
No. To grab. Caleb’s skin flushed as his pelvis felt hot.
Her feminine face was caring with those large, expressive, and deep-brown eyes.
There was no hint of aggression or anything.
His ex in the recent years had been a notorious monster with being bossy, quick-paced, and cold.
If only he could muster up the bravery to kiss her.
He would take her down to the floor and completely ravage her.
Though it wasn’t the time to do it, considering what she just went through.
The skin of his shaft grew tighter, and the head became sensitive. She needed to stop looking at him with those bedroom eyes.
Little did he know she wasn’t trying to. That was how Evie always looked when she was trying to be kind. To most people it looked sweet and endearing, but to him it looked seductive.
But Evie was a frequent flyer at the Songbird Café in town, as well as a monthly visitor at the nail salon. He knew those places sang with gossip, all ready to be used as cannon fodder against him. So, he shuffled on his butt and tried to contain the feeling.
Evie began massaging the butter onto his cracked and calloused hands. “I know how you feel. My hands get ridiculous in the fall and winter.”
“My hands are ridiculous all the time.” The massage wasn’t helping his situation.
And the heavy sigh he let escape his lips wasn’t helping hers.
“Is it because of your job?”
He smiled, something they did often around each other. “Yeah. It’s from all the things. I worked on cars a lot growing up. I like to have fun with my truck. Then there’s the never-ending yard work. And the horses.”
“What about the Navy? Tell me about your job in the Navy.”
He smiled. “I’d rather not at the moment, if that’s okay.”
She looked back down at her work and started to massage the muscles in between his fingers and wrists.
There was pain and ache there he never knew he had.
She whispered, “You’re okay. I won’t pry.
But you did something so nice for me, so I at least wanted to do this for you.
And if you ever need to talk, you can reach out to me. ”
“I appreciate it, but you don’t know what you’re getting into. I told you, I’m fine. I’ve learned to live with it.”
Evie looked at him and protested innocently, “I don’t believe it needs to be that way though. I mean, even when we get cut deeply, the scars still remain, but doesn’t the pain eventually go away? So, when we go through trauma or hurt, we can have scars, but can’t the pain be healed?”
He hated to give her a reality check, but it had to be done. “Not always. Physical scars can cause nerve damage and adhesions, and in that case the pain will never go away.”
She looked down and then turned his left hand over to massage his palm with both of her thumbs. The ache shot up into his forearm at first until she nurtured it away. He adored her innocence of how cruel life could really be. Well, life had been unfair and cruel to her in different ways.
Wait a minute. It dawned on him. He had looked over her entire Facebook profile, and life had been rough for her.
Homelessness, loss of parents, sexual abuse, familial neglect, mania, body dysmorphia.
But there Evie was. So what if she had an anxiety attack?
She was still calm, loving, happy, and peaceful.
Or so she seemed in his eyes. How the hell did she manage to do it without whiskey and other… things?
He didn’t know her until about three or four months ago. She was a lot worse before that.
She finished and sat next to him then. “I guess you’re right. I never thought of it that way. But maybe on an emotional or psychological level, we can heal. I think we can.” A soft chuckle trickled out of her lips, and she looked down at her fingers. “I know we can.”
He looked at her. God, he wanted to dominate her completely. What a dumb thing to think at a time like that, but he couldn’t help it.
She smiled again. “If there’s anything I can do to thank you for what you did for me tonight, let me know.”
A better idea came into his mind. “How about I stay the night, and you can make some of that fabulous French toast you’re always posting pictures up online of?”
At once they both laughed, and she nodded in a wide grin. “Yeah, I do post a lot about that, don’t I?”
He leaned over and nudged her in a little flirt. “Yeah, you kinda do. And it’s unfair I haven’t had it yet.”
She lifted her chin with a proud smirk. “Then I would be honored to make it for you in the morning.”
She led him to her room, and she was incredibly thankful that she had kept it cleaner those days. “I’m sorry about the stuff that’s still kind of everywhere.” She moved a few boxes to the side. “I need to have some shelves put up or get a bookshelf to get these things out of the boxes.”
He grinned with his hands in his pockets. “You’re fine. I’ve been there before. I have kids and understand messes and piles.”
They both stared at the bed. It was only a full-sized bed. “If you’re uncomfortable, um,” she stammered, “I have another room.”
He looked about. “I think I’ll stay in here with you.”
She smiled and held her mouth, for the look he gave her indicated he knew she wanted him to sleep by her.
“After all,” he added, “sleeping alone sucks after you’ve had a panic attack.”
She crossed her arms filled with giddiness and nervousness.
Caleb looked out the window and approached it, leaning over the bed to do so.
The bed was tucked into the corner to allow more room.
Then Evie’s eyes widened in embarrassment.
All her stuffed animals were on the bed still!
What would he think of a forty-year-old woman having stuffed animals?
While he looked out at the tree line, Evie stealthily grabbed the animals and chucked them into the closet.
“Stephen King and stuffed animals?” he asked with a grin. “You’re a woman of many hobbies, Miss Morgan.”
She turned to face him, rubbed her hips and took in a breath. “I’ll be in the bathroom changing and-”
He pulled away and approached her. Her heart started to pound again. Luckily this time it wasn’t because of panic. In the amber light of that room, in the still of the night, his eyes met hers.
It made her heart beg for a kiss; her body beg to be held. Her lower lip visibly trembled. She could not compose herself at all around him!
“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go out and you can change.”
A few minutes later, she was lying in bed, and he came in after a knock wearing nothing but his boxers.
Immediately, her eyes peeled back to the ceiling to avoid staring at him like a horny lecher.
She swallowed hard. His tall presence could be felt in that room with every slow step and every gentle breath.
Lifting the covers, the bed creaked as he slid in next to her. Right up next to her. The warmth of his body graced her cool skin. His feet hung off a bit, and it was hilarious to him. “I think we’ve got a bit of a problem here.”
She leaned her head up to look then laid back down chuckling. “I’m sorry.”
He heaved a loud groan and rolled over to face her. “It’s okay. I can do this.” He bent his knees, but they were still prodding into Evie’s legs.
She glanced at him. The moonlight bathed the softness of her face, casting dark shadows around her eyes. Her throat was bare and tempting to him.
She joked, “That’s probably not any better, is it?”
The air was hushed around them. He softly blinked before whispering, “It would be if you turned to face the wall.” He was trying to hint that he wanted to hold her from behind.
When he first came into the house and hugged her, her body was pleasantly plush, and it made him realize how much he longed for that sensation again.
How he could curl his fingers deeper and grasp her like hell.
Her throat clenched, and the sensation rolled downward to her chest, then her stomach, then her pelvis and then even deeper within.
But that wasn’t what she wanted. She had thought about this man for over a year, and looking into his eyes she found some sort of solace she didn’t expect to find.
That was the peace she longed for. So instead of doing what he asked, she turned to face him and tucked her knees enough into her stomach so that it gave him a little more leg room.
His brow quirked lightheartedly. “That’s literally the opposite of what I told you to do.” The room filled with soft giggles between them. When he was with her, he found himself smiling and laughing more than usual.
She was going to confess something that probably was dramatic and dumb, but it was in Evie’s spirit to be as affectionate and tender as possible, so she confessed it shamelessly, “But I want to see your face. You have such pretty eyes.”
He responded with a rolling drone from his stout chest, “I don’t know if I can do that.”
She laughed sweetly. “Do what?”
“Face you.”
“But why?”
A smile crossed his face. He spoke so softly, like a faint whisper barely heard, “Because with the way you look right now, I don’t know if I can control myself.” He smelled her Armani perfume lingering softly in the room, her hair smelling like rosemary mint.
She reached out and cautiously touched his unshaven face, being cautious in case he had some serious boundaries.
Immediately, her breath quickened while she stroked his jawline.
The roughness pricked her palm wildly and perfectly.
His masculine and rugged features drove her completely fucking insane.
Then she trembled breathlessly and asked, “Why wait?”
The moon’s glow faded and within minutes the only light in her room was from the amber back porch light. The autumn rain came in soft patters against those windows causing black dripping shadows on their faces. It was cold that night, and his body was so warm in the bed.
Please at least kiss me, she thought.
“Evie,” he began regretfully, “I’m technically still married. I’ll hopefully be signing the divorce papers early next year, but…I’m sorry. I can’t.”
That could have been a deal breaker for some, but it wasn’t for her. Yes, her hormones were crushed, but even though Caleb was separated, he was still loyal and faithful enough to a marriage not to cheat on his legal wife.
Evie realized that without him even knowing it, he had prevented her from becoming something she didn’t want to be: a one-night stand or a mistress.
“I respect you so much for that. You’re a hell of a good man, Caleb.” Then she did as he had asked her before and rolled over to face the window.
He scooted up to her and placed his heavy arm around her waist and held her close.
Their embrace was natural, warming, and soothing to them both.
The protection he gave her at that moment was everything she needed and craved.
It was difficult for her not to cry like an emotional Pisces right on the spot.
He let out a long sigh of relaxation as he felt the cushy warmth of her belly. The scent of her hair filled his senses with each breath, and the rain was lulling and steady.
You’re a hell of a good man, Caleb Wright.
Evie had never fallen asleep so fast since before her parents died.
Usually, her mind was a never-ending to-do list of goals missed, impractical schedules trying to make up for the time her depression sucked from her and being alone always making her feel on edge.
But within a few minutes with him, he had to lift his head to see if she really was already softly snoring.
He smiled, because she was. Caleb laid his head back down and thought in the still of the night.
The wind howled its bitter song outside.
He never felt like closing his eyes. He didn’t want to.
Within that moment, he succumbed to the pleasure of rest.
He let his mind wander, looking out at the dark trees that swayed.
Don’t get feelings for her.