OLIVIA
"Don't make me go in…" I say softly, smiling at him like he's the father figure and I'm the rebellious teen who refuses to submit. I like talking with him, and right now under the moonlight, it's peaceful. I feel like we're connecting.
"If you're gonna make me stand out here and talk with you, the least you could do is offer me a seat." Caleb's voice is less stern now, gentler than it has been the last few times we spoke.
"Come on over. I have an extra chair on my back patio." I wave him over and walk to my patio while he meanders down the fenceline. For some reason, my heart skips a beat.
The idea of sitting out here late, speaking with such a ruggedly handsome man, feels like the most exciting and rebellious thing I could be doing.
I've been hiding from the nosiness of my ex-husband for so long, I think I forgot how to live a little.
And I've been lonely because of it. In three years, I haven't been on a single date or even entertained the attention of a man.
Meanwhile, Derek has one woman or another at his home every week and it's hard to keep track of who he’s with.
As I sit to wait, I think of how badly that might affect Ethan and how Derek twists it to make me look abnormal or unstable.
I'd rather have no man in my life and be a good mother than expose Ethan to a dozen men in as many months and confuse him like Derek does.
It sours my mood significantly so when Caleb sits next to me, I'm the one who feels grumpy.
But I paste a plastic smile on my face and angle my body toward him as he adjusts his posture.
Instead of sitting on the patio chair, he chose the bench, and we're close enough that our knees touch.
But he looks very stiff, almost uncomfortable.
It's hard for me to decide whether he's not ready for interpersonal connection or he is and he's fighting it, kind of like I've been for a few weeks.
"So, you sit out here a lot?" he asks, breaking the ice.
"Only when I have a lot on my mind, and this week has been a doozy.
" My drink has gone cold, but I still hug it between my palms as my eyes sweep out over the lawn.
Ethan didn't put his bike in the garage again.
I'll have to get after him for that. Someone could steal it.
And gosh, my lawn needs to be mowed again.
My mind wanders as I realize that I'm now getting a little nervous.
Caleb is sitting right next to me, making my heart flip a little.
"What do you have on your mind tonight?" His low baritone rumbles through me, drawing to my mouth the things I don't really want to say but that I’m prone to oversharing sometimes.
"Oh, Derek… He's just really pushing my buttons lately." The last thing Caleb needs to hear is me complaining about my ex-husband, but he has to have seen the way Derek talks to me in the driveway at drop off and pick up time for his visitation schedule.
"Seems like you two don't get along well…" He's leading me, but he's not prying.
"Well, he cheated on me—twice. So there's that.
" I feel the bitterness rising, but I try to smile through it and it's just not working.
I'm thankful it's dark out right now. I don't want him to think I’m purposefully harboring bitterness.
I really am trying to let it all go. Derek just makes it impossible.
"Wow, that sounds painful." His fingers curl and flex, and his body shifts, angling toward me more now too.
I sigh and set my mug on the patio table, then pull my knee up onto the bench between us and turn to face him fully.
"Yeah, I forgave him when he said it was a foolish mistake, but the trust was gone. I snuck into his phone and stuff because I couldn’t let it rest, and it wasn't six months later I came home to him in bed with another woman—in my bed.
" Now my heart is hammering. I'm oversharing, but it's been so long and with no friends to vent to, I sometimes feel like I'm an island to myself.
"I'm really sorry that happened to you, Olivia," Caleb says, and this time he puts his arm up across the back of the bench until his fingers brush my shoulder, and trail up my neck.
The touch sends a sensation of tingling over my skin.
I turn toward him to see his eyes locked onto mine.
"And to think how strong you've been for Ethan this whole time. "
"I don't feel strong. I feel like I have no choice but to keep putting one foot in front of the other—"
Before I can even finish my sentence, Caleb's hand is on my cheek, thumb brushing my cheek bone, and he leans forward. His lips seal over mine in a heated kiss that takes me by surprise and steals my breath, but I don’t pull back.
His mouth is insistent and hungry, opening to tempt me, so I reciprocate hesitantly.
I haven’t kissed anyone but Derek in ten years, and I feel awkward and out of my comfort zone, but when Caleb reaches over and pulls me toward him, I melt. The fire between us is electric, warming my whole body in seconds until I'm clutching his shirt, leaning into the heat.
The kissing escalates quickly, and I lose myself in it.
Caleb’s hand slides from my cheek to the back of my neck, pulling me closer as his other palm finds my waist, fingers pressing into the soft curve there.
A low rumble escapes his throat and it makes heat rush through me like wildfire.
My body responds before my mind can catch up.
I push closer to him, my hands fisting tighter in his shirt.
The muscle under his shirt is hard and solid.
His touch grows bolder. Those strong, callused fingers drift under the hem of my shirt, brushing bare skin at my lower back.
The warmth of his palm makes me shudder and I gasp softly against his mouth when his hand slides higher, tracing my spine.
It’s been so long since anyone touched me like this—like I’m wanted, like I’m desirable.
Caleb shifts on the bench, pulling me until I’m nearly in his lap.
One of his hands cups my hip, guiding me closer, while the other trails up my side, grazing just beneath my ribs.
My breath hitches when his fingers brush the underside of my breast outside of my bra.
I should feel embarrassed by how quickly my body reacts, but instead I arch into him, craving more. It's insane how badly I want him.
His lips leave mine to trail hot kisses along my jaw and down my neck, and I tilt my head to give him better access. Suddenly, all my inhibitions are gone. We went from light talking to making out in a heartbeat and my body is telling me I want more. I don’t want this to stop with just kissing.
“Is this okay?” he murmurs against my skin. His hand squeezes my hip possessively, pulling me flush against him. I can feel how much he wants me. The hard evidence drags along my inner thigh as I wind up straddling him.
"Mmm, yes," I sigh, and it makes my head swim. Am I really doing this?
My own hands explore his chest, shoulders, the strong line of his neck. Everything about him feels solid, safe, and dangerously exciting all at once.
He pulls back just enough to look at me, eyes dark and intense under the moonlight. His thumb brushes my swollen lower lip. “Olivia…” he says quietly, almost restrained, “we should go inside.”
My heart pounds so hard I can barely think.
Part of me wants to say yes immediately, but the other part—the cautious, wounded part—hesitates for just a second.
Getting involved like this is risky, not just for my scared, broken heart, but for my son.
And Derek already doesn’t like the idea of a tattooed neighbor.
What would he say if he knew I slept with Caleb too?
Still, the pull between us is undeniable. I nod, barely trusting my voice. “Okay.”
This time, there’s more urgency, like the decision to go inside has unlocked something in him. He stands, pulling me up with him without breaking the kiss. My legs feel shaky as we stumble across the patio together, mouths still fused, hands grasping whatever we can reach.
We barely make it through the back door without falling.
I fumble with the handle behind me to open the door, and it clicks shut just as Caleb presses me against the wall in the hallway.
A soft laugh escapes me at how clumsy and desperate we both are, but it melts into a moan when his hips roll against mine, reminding me of how rock-hard he is.
Then his hands are everywhere—my waist, my ribs, the sides of my neck—as we move blindly down the short hallway.
I tug at his shirt, needing to feel more of him.
We turn the corner too fast and bump into the edge of the console table, knocking a picture frame crooked, and I'm nervous we'll wake Ethan.
“In here,” I breathe, guiding him the last few steps toward the small downstairs powder room.
The moment the door shuts behind us, his mouth claims mine again while his hands slide under my shirt.
In one smooth motion, he tugs it up and over my head.
Cool air kisses my skin as the fabric drops to the floor.
I feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way his eyes darken as they rake over me chases away any instinct to cover myself.
His palms are warm and slightly rough as they settle on my bare waist, thumbs stroking over my stomach.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs as he leans in, kissing along my collarbone, then lower, his stubble grazing my skin and sending sparks through me. I'm grateful for the nightlight that lets me see him but too scared to turn on the full overhead light and blind us both in such an intense moment.
My fingers tremble with nerves and excitement as I reach for his belt.
I work the metal buckle open slowly, hyper-aware of every small sound, terrified Ethan will wake up.
But Caleb’s breath catches when my knuckles brush against his lower stomach and he kisses me harder, like he’s trying to hold himself back and failing.