Chapter 26
CHAPTER 26
CALLIOPE
Arlow’s parents are such sweet people, it’s easy to see where he gets his kindness from. It’s heartbreaking that he avoids any loving connections and I hope the day comes when he realizes that’s not the answer. He deserves so much more than he’s let himself have.
His mother questioned me about our relationship and didn’t seem to quite believe we were only friends, but she didn’t press the subject. I’m not surprised. It seemed like every time I looked at him today, his eyes were on me. Every time he passed by me, his hand would land on my back or my side. It isn’t the behavior you’d see between platonic friends. I’m sure she also noticed I slept in his room.
They’re leaving in the morning, so I excuse myself and head to bed early to give Arlow more time with them without my intrusion. After a long hot shower, I crawl into his bed and lose myself in a romance book. It’s nice to read about love that always somehow finds a way. It’s too bad real life isn’t like that.
I’m so wrapped up in the book, I barely notice when Arlow heads to his bathroom to shower and get ready for bed. The sex scenes are off the chart hot. Arlow walks out just as I’ve finished a particularly scorching scene. My mouth dries up at the sight of him and my words fall out without a moment’s thought. “Oh, you’re doing that on purpose.”
His brows dip in confusion and he freezes in place, looking down at me. “What?”
“Gray sweatpants and bare chest? Have some mercy. Your parents are right down the hall.”
His grin is equal parts pleased and embarrassed. It only turns me on more. That the same man who said he wanted to fuck me and fuck me, who had no problem dirty talking while making me come until my ears rang can look so flustered at a compliment is the most adorable thing ever.
On the night we slept together, the dark helped obscure the scar on his chest that’s well hidden in the branches of his tree tattoo. It’s no wonder I didn’t notice it before.
He shakes his head, grabs a shirt from his closet and pulls it on. “I hooked up my old DVD player if you want to watch a movie.”
It’s too early for either of us to sleep. Before the trouble started, we would’ve been out at the firepit, or he would’ve been working in his barn this time of night.
“Sure. Do you want to sneak out and smoke first?”
“I’ll just crack the window a little.”
A few minutes later, we’re lounging in his bed, high and watching a goofy comedy. Arlow wraps his arm around me, and I cuddle close to him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
As my high fades and the movie nears its end, my fingers play on his collarbone. Relaxed and content, I’m starting to zone out when his husky voice surprises me.
“Calliope, if you keep touching my neck, I’m going to fuck you.”
My breath catches in my throat as my hand stills. Do I want this to happen again? It broke my heart that he regretted it last time, but I know now this isn’t going to lead to anything more. Soon I’ll be back in my cabin, without the temptation of having him right beside me, or I’ll be moving again. If he wants this, I’m not going to pass up another chance to feel him inside me.
I slowly run my fingertips up his neck to caress his jaw. He turns toward me, cupping my ass to pull my body against his, and I slip my tongue through his lips with a little moan of satisfaction.
Our kisses are long and slow and blistering hot as we strip off our clothes, our mouths unable to part for more than a second or two. God, why is it like this with him? So intense and all consuming. His touch is all I can think about.
His thoughts seem to be similar when we break the kiss, and he catches my earlobe between his lips. “I’ve never struggled so hard to keep my hands off someone.”
“I love your hands on me. Your fingers…”
“Yeah, is that what you want?” he murmurs, his hand slowly descending. “My fingers?”
Heat bursts across my skin, my only response a small shuddery breath.
“I’m going to need an answer, Calliope,” he teases, running his fingertips over my inner thigh. “Do you want to come on my fingers?”
“Yes,” I breathe, closing my eyes in preparation.
One gentle sweep of his finger reveals how he’s affected me. “You’re so wet already.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
His chuckle is low before he orders, “Look at me.” The firm edge to his voice is so fucking hot. The way he watches my face as he slides two fingers deep inside me has my cheeks set on fire. It makes me feel so vulnerable. The involuntary groan I let out brings a wicked smile to his lips.
“They’ll hear us,” I whisper, remembering his parents are right down the hall.
“You’ll have to be quieter then.” He strokes his fingers in and out, finding that perfect spot that has my head falling back, my eyes closing.
It’s hard to stay quiet, especially when his thumb joins in, stroking over my clit. His lips close over my nipple and the pleasure of it all has me writhing under his touch. As the feeling grows overwhelming, I fold into him with a whimper, “Arlow.”
His deep voice croons softly in my ear. “I know, darling.”
The sharp orgasm hits me so suddenly that I press my mouth to his shoulder, trying desperately not to cry out. His rumbling curse seems to reach my ear from the far end of a tunnel.
It isn’t until I recover some of my senses that I realize why he made that sound. The little indentions on his skin send heat straight to my cheeks. I can’t believe I bit him.
“Oh shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to?—”
“Don’t you fucking dare apologize,” he growls. In a matter of seconds, he rolls me onto my back, wraps one of my legs around him and thrusts his cock in deep. My hands grasp at his back from the sudden invasion and the firm strokes that quickly follow, while his kiss captures my euphoric moans.
He’s wild, unleashed. His mouth travels from mine to my neck and back again, devouring me. His large hand grips my ass tightly, lifting me off the bed to pull me toward him as he fucks me. He’s everywhere. All hands and tongue and driving cock. I’m drowning in him with no desire to save myself.
It doesn’t take long for the pressure to build again, and he fists my hair, tilting my head back to look at him without missing a stroke. “You’re getting ready to come. It feels so fucking good.”
“Yes,” I gasp, my body inching toward the edge that I know is going to be a steep fall. “Oh, harder.”
His eyes blaze, and he grabs my hands and pins them above my head. I wrap both of my legs around him, holding on to him the only way I can as he drives into me.
His lips land on mine just in time. The pleasure takes over, shoving me out of my head and into a blissful fog, the spasms going on for what feels like forever. By the time I’ve regained control, he’s lost his.
He releases my hands and grabs my hips, roughly pulling me onto his cock hard and fast. His ravenous expression reaches into my chest and squeezes the air from my lungs. The intense look in his eyes, fervent and primal as he pounds into me, stuns me into silence while I watch him lose control.
Nothing better than this can exist in the world. His thrusts become erratic, vulnerability seeping into his eyes as he’s overtaken. He buries his cock deep, coming inside me with a low gravelly moan.
After a moment, he lowers his body on top of mine without pulling out and plants a kiss on my neck. He keeps his face hidden there as I run my hands over his damp back while we catch our breath.
Fucking hell, I’ll chomp on him like a zombie next time.
The man fucked me into a coma, apparently, because it’s nearly noon when I wake. The bed is empty, and the house is stone silent. My body aches as I get dressed, reminding me of the incredible night we had. Sex has never been like that with anyone else. I love the way he can go from sweet and softly passionate to rough and untamed.
The guest room door is open, and the bed stripped. New sheets sit folded on top, waiting to be put on. I wander downstairs to see what everyone is doing. Arlow sits on the couch, wearing jeans and a soft looking sweater, his bare feet propped on the ottoman. He grins up at me over the sketch pad in his lap. “Good morning, sleepy.”
“Good morning. Did your parents leave?”
“Early this morning. Dad always wants to beat the traffic.”
“You should’ve woken me up to say goodbye.”
The tiny smirk on his lips doesn’t sneak past me. “You were pretty worn out and dead to the world. They said to tell you how much they loved meeting you and they hope to see you again.”
“I liked meeting them too.” I rub my hand over my face, still trying to wake up. “I’m going to grab some coffee and a shower. Don’t let me interrupt your drawing.” He hasn’t been doing much of it lately with everything we’ve had going on.
“There are cinnamon rolls on the stove for you, and towels are in the dryer if there aren’t any in the bathroom,” he advises, going back to his work.
Something about that moment feels so…domestic. From the time he said good morning, to making coffee and unwrapping the foil around the cinnamon rolls, to pulling a warm towel from his dryer. This is what our mornings would always be like if he loved me.
It settles over my heart and puts an ache in my chest. He’s such an easy person to love, no one could fault me for falling so fast. That doesn’t mean anything has changed between us. We may have trouble keeping our hands off each other, especially trying to share a bed, but he’s been clear that he doesn’t want feelings involved.
As if that ever stopped anyone from drowning in them.
After a shower, I make up the bed in the guest room and move my stuff back into it, then text Silver to see how she and Mona are doing. Instead of texting back, she calls.
“Hey, were you busy?” she asks.
“Nope. Not at all. How’s your mom?”
“About to get that bell her friend gave her to ring for me shoved up her ass if I hear one more ding, but otherwise, she’s good.”
It feels good to laugh with her again. We talk for a few minutes about how things are going with Mona and the diner. “Actually, that’s what I needed to talk to you about. Mom has decided to retire a little early and I’ll be managing Lucky’s.”
I’m not sure whether to congratulate her or if she sees this as bad news. “How do you feel about that?”
“It’s great. I’m excited. Mom seems to be too. She said she wants to travel a little to see some stuff, and I quote, ‘Before that idiot Gary kills me.’”
“Congratulations, I’m happy for both of you.” I can’t imagine why she wants to talk to me about it unless she’s trying to get me to come back to work.
“The only thing is, for her to have the retirement funds, she’s going to sell the cabin.” Silver quickly adds, “Not until your lease is up, of course. We aren’t trying to throw you out or anything.”
“Of course, I understand.”
“If you’re interested in buying it, you can have first dibs. If not, Arlow will likely want it since he tried to get that piece of land before. Anyway, you have plenty of time to think about it, but I wanted to let you know as soon as possible.”
“I appreciate it, and yeah, let me give it some thought.”
For a while after we hang up, I consider it. If we figure out who’s giving us all this trouble, would I want to stay? When it means living next to the man that I’m struggling not to fall too hard for? I love the cabin and the woods. It’s a perfect place to start trying the new gardening and homesteading type hobbies next year, not to mention learning beekeeping from Arlow.
One thing at a time. Right now, I’m just trying to keep it together while we wait to hear back from the cops and for the internet to get restored so we can get my cameras working.
When I return downstairs, Arlow asks me to go with him to swap out the memory cards in two of his trail cameras and to check on the bees. I don’t think to bring my gun until we’re already outside, but Arlow has his, and I feel safe with him as we start into the woods, the beekeeper suits tucked into his backpack.
“Look at this new app I’ve been playing with,” I tell him, showing him my phone. “It’s called Merlin. You record the birds singing and it tells you which species they are.” I hit play on my last recording. “See, last time I heard a cardinal and a chickadee.”
“That’s great. It’ll teach you to recognize them pretty quickly.”
“Yeah, it’s fun to try to tell them apart.”
“Turn it on, let’s see what it picks up,” he says, as we head down the trail. It catches a few songbirds and a mourning dove. After a minute, Arlow leans over and starts tweeting and chirping into my phone.
“You can’t trick it,” I giggle, stopping the recording. “Oh wait, it says you’re a dodo.”
For a split second, I see his eyes dart toward the screen before he realizes I’m kidding. “Very funny.”
Another bird I already recognize starts to sing. “That’s a grackle,” I tell him. “Grackles are easy to recognize. They sound like a rusted gate squeaking.”
We pause to listen, then he grins down at me. “That’s a perfect description of it.”
“I’m going head-on into becoming a bird nerd. This is your only warning.”
“Just please don’t send your crow army after me.”
“We’ll see.”
One of the trail cameras is right in front of us. Arlow pops off a cover and switches the memory card inside, then starts leading me toward the next one.
“The app will be a lot of fun in the spring, when I can catch them migrating. There aren’t very many species this time of year,” I point out.
“It’ll be interesting to see what passes through,” he agrees. “But if you want more species, I know how to do some bird calls.”
What? “You know how to do bird calls? To attract birds?” Doubt fills my voice. This is one of those times I can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
His face is serious and his voice sincere. “Sure, get your app ready.”
We keep walking as I open the app again, then look over at him. He nods, pauses his steps and pulls in a deep breath. “Hereeee birrrrdy. Birdy birdy birdy! Psspsspss.”
He cracks up when I shove him back. “I can’t believe I fell for that. Asshole.” His laughter echoes through the forest. “Psspsspss. You idiot,” I scoff, laughing along with him.
We stop at the second trail camera, then head over to the beehives, pausing to put on our bee suits. “Is that insulation?” I ask, gesturing to the thick material he’s wrapped around the hives in strips.
“Yes, to help them keep warm. The winters here are unpredictable. We could have weeks of ice and snow, months of frigid temperatures, or it could barely dip below freezing once or twice. I've seen it be seventy degrees on Christmas one year and below zero the next.”
“It’s already freezing,” I point out, and he nods.
“True, which probably means we’re in for a colder winter, but that’s okay. They’re ready.”
“Do you need to open the hive?”
“No, we don’t want to do that and let the heat they’ve generated out. Look.” He points out a couple of entrances where a few dead bees lie.
“Oh no.”
“That’s actually a good sign. They’re active, removing their dead like they should. Come here, I want to show you something.”
When I approach, he takes my hands and presses them on either side of the hive, keeping his hands over mine. A faint vibration tickles my fingers and I’m shocked how warm the box feels under my palms. He beams down at me when I look up at him. “They’re clustered together, vibrating their wing muscles to keep the colony warm.”
“That’s so cool,” I whisper, trying to picture them inside. It’s wild to think about the whole tiny world that exists for them.
“Isn’t it?” The genuine joy on his face is beautiful. I adore that he finds happiness in things like this, how much he loves it.
We check on the other hive, then tuck our suits into his backpack to walk back. At the top of our hill, a spike of panic spears through me, and I grab his hand, pointing toward our houses. “Arlow! I see smoke!”