Chapter 28 #2
“Your young man called us last night. He was so upset. We came over, but the doctors said only a few people so Marco and Rafael stayed with me. Rafael, tell everyone she’s awake. They can come see her.”
“Mamá,” I protest, but she ignores me.
“They’ve all been calling. Gabriella was crying all night. You scared us, mija.”
My mother strokes my hair, and her eyes are wet. “Does it hurt? Should I call the doctor?”
“No, I’m fine. I’ll take some more pain medication, but I’ll be fine. Caleb shouldn’t have called you. You guys got worried for no—”
“He absolutely should have called us. He did the right thing!” My mother says fiercely. “What if something happened to you. You lost a lot of blood, Eve. Marco donated his blood.”
“They wouldn’t let Mamá give hers,” Marco whispers. “She was ready to fight them.”
My lips twitch. “I’m really okay. I promise. I’m sure I’ll be out of here in no time.”
“Then you come home, and I will look after you till you are fully healed,” my mother says firmly.
“Mamá,” I begin.
“I will not argue on this. You need to be looked after. Look at how thin you’ve gotten.”
I meet Rafael’s gaze, and he tries to hide his grin. I guess there’s no point in reminding my mother that getting stabbed didn’t end up with me shedding a couple of pounds.
“Okay.” It’s easier to give in. It’s easier because I kind of like my mother fussing over me. “You all should go home now. Caleb said he was fetching the nurse. I want to rest for a while.”
“I’ll stay,” my mother says but Marco shakes his head.
“She needs to sleep, Mamá. Caleb will be with her. You also need to rest.”
“But—”
“I’ll be fine, Mamá.” I smile at her. “Once they discharge me, you can take me home.”
My words make her relax. “Okay. He’s a good boy, your Caleb. I like him.”
“I’ll be sure to let him know.”
I watch her leave, and when the door closes behind them, I close my eyes, allowing my body to relax.
The nurse slips in, and as she adjusts the pain medication, I feel myself fading away.
As the darkness wraps me in its embrace, I think I hear Caleb’s voice, and then the mattress dips and something warm and familiar is holding me.
I feel safe and protected, and for once, I’m grateful for everything.
* * *
The afternoon sun slants through the living room windows, casting golden rectangles across the hardwood floor.
I’m stretched out on the couch, my body still tender from the injury but finally healing properly.
With my eyes half-closed and my mind adrift, I’m in that perfect state between sleep and wakefulness when I hear the front door open.
“Eve?” Caleb’s voice carries from the entryway, followed by the soft thud of his keys landing in the bowl by the door.
“In here,” I call out, not bothering to open my eyes.
The doctor said I needed rest, and I’m taking that prescription seriously.
Maybe a little too seriously, judging by the pile of fashion magazines and half-eaten snacks littering the coffee table after returning here only just this morning.
This last week of being cared for at my mother’s has really turned me into a slob.
I sense Caleb before I see him—the slight shift in the air, the faint scent of his cologne. Then the couch dips as he settles on the floor beside me, his back against the couch near my head.
“How’s the patient?” he asks, his voice soft.
I crack one eye open. “Bored out of her mind. If I read one more article about which shoes are ‘in’ this season, I might stab myself again just for the excitement.”
Caleb winces. “That’s not funny.”
“Too soon?” I smile, reaching out to run my fingers through his hair. It’s become my favorite thing to do—his hair is ridiculously soft, and the way he leans into my touch makes my heart do stupid little flips.
“It will always be too soon,” he says, tilting his head to give me better access. “I was thinking...”
“Dangerous,” I murmur, twirling a strand of his hair around my finger.
He ignores my jab. “I was thinking that once we come back from our trip, would you be interested in looking for another job?”
My eyes fly open, and I sit up so fast my side protests with a sharp twinge of pain. “Why? What’s wrong with my current job?”
Caleb turns to face me, his expression carefully neutral. “Nothing, nothing at all.” His hand slides under my shirt, warm against the skin of my stomach, carefully avoiding my healing wound. “It’s just that I won’t be there, and I’m worried you’ll miss me.”
The tension drains from my shoulders, replaced by amusement. “I’ll see you every evening, so I think I’ll manage just fine.”
“What about me?” he pouts, and it should look ridiculous on a grown man, but somehow he makes it work. “I’ll be miserable all day without you.”
I roll my eyes. “Don’t be clingy, Wilder. It’s not a good look.”
“I can’t help it,” he murmurs, his fingers running over my skin. The innocent touch sends shivers up my spine. “Besides, you could find a better job, one that will actually challenge you.”
I narrow my eyes, studying his face. There’s something he’s not telling me. “I’m listening.”
“There’s a position for director available,” he says, a little too casually.
“Keep talking,” I say, my curiosity piqued despite my suspicion.
“The salary is amazing,” he continues, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. “Benefits are stellar. Corner office with a view of the park.”
“What’s the downside?” I ask, crossing my arms.
“Why do you think there would be a downside?” he replies quickly—too quickly.
“Because you’re trying to seduce me into this job for some reason,” I point out. His hand is still under my shirt, now resting on my waist, and it’s extremely distracting. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
“What look?”
“The one you had right before you convinced me to try that ridiculously spicy dish at the Thai place,” I remind him. “I couldn’t feel my tongue for two days.”
He laughs, then hums noncommittally. “There’s no downside, really. You might just have a boss you’ll find... slightly annoying.”
My eyes widen as it clicks. I sit up straighter, ignoring the twinge in my side. “Oh, my god. No. I am not working for you!”
His face falls, but he immediately starts pleading his case. “Eve, come on! It would be perfect. You’d be amazing at it. And we’d get to see each other every day.”
“No! Absolutely not!” I shake my head vehemently. “We work fine together when we’re on equal footing, but as my boss? The power dynamic would be all wrong.”
“I’d make it worth your while,” he says, his voice dropping to that low, seductive register that usually makes my knees weak. Not this time, buddy.
“Caleb, be serious.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Mixing business with pleasure isn’t always the best idea. What happens when we disagree about work?”
“I’m completely serious,” he insists, shifting to kneel in front of me. “And I promise there would be clear boundaries.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Remember when we were cooking dinner last weekend and you insisted on showing me the ‘proper’ way to chop onions?”
“That’s different,” he protests with a laugh. “That was about knife skills and safety. This would be professional.”
“Right,” I say, unconvinced. “Like you were so professional when you consulted at Thalvyn?” Instead of answering, he pushes my shirt up just a little and presses a soft kiss to my stomach, just below my ribcage. My breath catches.
“That’s not fair,” I whisper.
“Never claimed to fight fair,” he murmurs against my skin, placing another kiss slightly higher. “Just think about it? Please?”
My fingers find their way back into his hair, and I tug gently, forcing him to look up at me. His eyes are impossibly blue and pleading. But I have to stand my ground on this.
“Caleb, I appreciate the offer, I really do. But I can’t work for you. I need to keep my professional life separate. I don’t think it would be healthy for our relationship.”
His face falls, and he sits back on his heels with a dramatic sigh. “Fine. But I still think you’d be amazing.”
“I know I would be,” I say with a confident smirk. “That’s not the issue.”
He lets out a huff and stands up, looking genuinely disappointed as he drops into the armchair across from me. His lips press into a line, and I recognize his sulking expression. The one he thinks makes him look brooding and mysterious but really just reminds me of a frustrated puppy.
“Are you seriously pouting right now?” I ask, unable to keep the amusement from my voice.
“I’m not pouting,” he mutters, even as his lower lip protrudes slightly. “I’m contemplating.”
“Contemplating what? How to change my mind?” I laugh. “Because that’s not happening.”
He folds his arms across his chest. “Maybe I’ll just find a different director then. Someone who isn’t so stubborn and unreasonable.”
I shake my head, smiling despite myself. “Go ahead. Hire whoever you want. I’m still not working for you.”
“You’re impossible,” he grumbles.
“I know,” I say with a grin. “But you love me anyway.”
The corner of his mouth twitches, but he’s fighting the smile. His blue eyes are stormy with frustration, but there’s something endearing about how much he wanted this to work. How much he wants me in his life, in every way.
I push myself off the couch, and cross the small space between us. His eyes follow me, curious and still a little grumpy, as I carefully lower myself onto his lap, straddling him.
“You know,” I say, running my hands up his chest and looping my arms around his neck, “just because I won’t work for you doesn’t mean we can’t find other ways to spend time together.”
His hands automatically find my waist, steadying me. “Is that so?”
“Mmhmm.” I lean in, brushing my lips lightly against his. “In fact, I think having separate workplaces might be better. That way, you get to miss me all day...”
“Which is torture,” he interjects..
“...And then we get to have very enthusiastic reunions every evening,” I finish, nipping gently at his lower lip.