Chapter 5 Caleb
FIVE
CALEB
Sleeping on the sofa isn’t nearly as comfortable as I’d made it out to be, and it has me seriously considering whether I need to buy a new one.
The lumpy cushions, as well as the fact that I’m much taller than the actual seat itself—and wider when lying on my back—has me tempted to put my blankets on the rug in front of the fire and sleep there.
I’ve done worse. There are no mattresses out in the wild.
Eventually, I just give up and make sure the fridge and pantry are replenished for the days to come. The night hadn’t slowed down the storm at all. Instead, it continues to wage on like Mother Nature is angry and we need to be punished. Maybe we do. I’m not about to question the wrath of nature.
I manage to get the supplies before Cassidy makes her way out of the bedroom; the door closing softly behind her.
She’s still in the tights and sweater from yesterday, though she has on a pair of thick wool socks now.
Her hair is up in a messy bun at the top of her head, with dark circles under her eyes.
She looks as exhausted as I feel, and for some reason, that makes me want to fix it.
“You should go back to bed,” I say, barely looking at her. “Relax.”
Cassidy makes a sound in the back of her throat, shaking her head as she moves towards the kitchen. “No, no. I’m fine.” As if to call out her own lie, she yawns. “I’ll let them sleep. Unless you need to use the bathroom?”
The only bathroom is the ensuite to my bedroom—at least, that she’s aware of.
There’s a second, albeit barely used, toilet in the basement.
I’m pretty sure the old man who owned the cabin before me had a workshop down there whittling figurines or something, because I sometimes find them hidden in the walls when I’m down there.
I shake my head, watching her as she moves slowly into the kitchen. “No coffee maker. Just instant and a kettle.”
Her deep blue eyes find mine. “That’ll do.”
I go to the pantry as she refills the electric kettle, and I pull out the tin of coffee I keep just in case. It’s not something I prefer, but I keep it for sister-shaped emergencies.
Our fingers brush when I hand her the tin, and for a moment, it feels like electricity sparks when we touch. It makes me shiver and pull away, but my heart…my heart doesn’t want logic.
For a moment, all I can think about is seeing her like I did yesterday and feeling all of her. Not just her hands. Not with clothes between us.
Quickly, I shake myself of those thoughts and take a step back, putting distance between us. Cassidy clears her throat and turns away, but before she can hide it, I catch a flush darkening her cheeks.
“Thanks,” she mutters, grabbing a mug from the top shelf. “I ran out of my own yesterday. I was going to go into town, replace what we’d used, get some of our own stuff…”
“But you never got the chance,” I finish.
Cassidy shakes her head as she heaps two spoons of instant into her mug, then adds a heaping of sugar. “No. Unfortunately not. Otherwise, I’d be drinking this with vanilla.”
“Unfortunately, that’s not something I can summon up from my stash,” I half joke.
When she looks over her shoulder and smiles, it’s like another nail in the coffin that is my resolve. It continues to crack, to shift. And I don’t know what it is about Cassidy, but she has a power over me I can’t ignore.
The sound of footsteps has me backing into the fridge, putting distance between us again. The twins come to a stop in the entry of the kitchen, first looking at their mom, then at me.
“Good morning, Mr. Caleb,” the boy, Arlo, says. His twin mutters something similar, though I can’t make it out with the way she hides her face shyly. “Mom, do we have any more cornflakes?”
Cassidy mutters a curse under her breath and turns to look at her children. “I’m sorry. I think we finished them yesterday.”
Both kids hide their disappointment well, which doesn’t sit right with me.
I don’t blame Cassidy; it’s not like she purposefully put herself in this situation.
She was lied to; she’s done everything she can to provide for her kids, and it sounds like her ex doesn’t help at all if what Winnie implied is true.
The house they were all relying on isn’t anything more than a piece of land with the ruins of what might have been their home on top of it.
And anyway, cornflakes are a necessity in my house.
From the pantry, I pull out an unopened box and set it on the counter. “Go for it.”
Arlo’s eyes light up, and even Cleo looks surprised, but they don’t reach for the box.
When I look at Cassidy, her eyes are wet. “I can pay you back,” she says quietly, finding my stare. “But we’ve got other—”
“Please. Don’t,” I say, getting the milk from the fridge. I keep a stock of long-life milk in the basement. “Go for it. It’s cereal. It won’t break my bank.”
I can tell she wants to say more, but not in front of the kids. Instead, she takes two of the bowls she’d washed up yesterday and sets them on the counter, completely forgetting her coffee.
“I’ve got the breakfast,” I tell her, putting myself between her and the island. “You make your coffee.”
Tears brim her dark eyes as they meet mine. “Caleb—”
“Don’t worry. I’m making myself a bowl, too,” I reassure. “You want one?”
She gently shakes her head, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. But she doesn’t fight me on it. Instead, she steps back, moving towards the boiled kettle, and resumes making her coffee hesitantly while I turn to the kids.
They both eye me warily. Arlo is a little more open with his scepticism, especially as he slides onto the stool.
His sister, on the other hand, hides her emotions a little better.
It makes me wonder why. My nieces and nephews are loud.
My sisters are great parents, and I think I see a lot of them in Cassidy. But those kids?
They’re wild. It probably comes from living together in close proximity. The kids feed off each other’s energy, and that’s just a mess waiting to happen.
Cassidy obviously raised these two well, but what about their father? What role does he play in their lives? And is he the reason Cleo is so quiet, Arlo so protective?
I hate being curious about them. But I can’t help myself.
“What do you do for work, Mr. Caleb?” Arlo asks as I grab a third bowl and start pouring cereal into all three.
I glance up, brows raised. “Lumber,” I tell him. “And I take certain people on tours through the mountain so they can pretend to be cavemen, if you ask Winnie.”
Arlo snorts, leaning forward. “You chop wood and you let rich guys be mountain men?”
“Arlo,” Cassidy warns, but I just shake my head with a laugh.
“Smart boy.” I push a bowl towards him and open the milk. “Say when.”
The blonde-haired kid watches me pour and nods when he’s satisfied. When I turn to Cleo, I take in the dark flush of her rosy cheeks.
“Say when,” I repeat, keeping an eye on her. She doesn’t even look at me, only nodding when there’s a small amount of milk in her bowl. I match the amount in my own. “I also prefer my cereal to have a less soupy texture.”
Somehow, that pulls a small smile from her, but not a word. I actually don’t think I’ve heard her speak since she greeted me yesterday.
And somehow, that both has me concerned and a little determined to get her to like me.
The day is long, and there’s very little to make it go by quicker.
The kids do some schoolwork, though they complete it in record time and restart a puzzle for apparently the third time since moving to Willow Ridge.
Meanwhile, Cassidy moves around the cabin, cleaning whatever she can get her hands on, and also running the washer and dryer with promises to pay me back, even though I keep telling her not to worry about it.
Meanwhile, I try to do some work, figuring out when to rebook the three city folk who want to come back and resume their…hunting, or whatever. But I’m too distracted. Not in a bad way, though.
Eventually, when Cassidy allows screen time, the kids move into the bedroom, leaving their mother and me alone in the living room where she folds laundry.
I move to sit beside her, the smell of her perfume filling my lungs with each breath I pull in. Outside, the storm has broken, the wind finally settling, but the snow remains heavy. I’d already tried the front door, and if I want to get out, I’ll have to climb through a window. Not the best look.
“Thank you,” Cassidy says again, though she doesn’t look at me as she goes through the children’s clothing. I’m almost tempted to offer my help, but I don’t want to come off as weird, so I just sit back.
“For what?” I ask, though I have a feeling I already know the answer.
This time, she looks at me, the corner of her lips quirked. “For everything. Even though you didn’t want us here. Thank you for letting us stay.”
I shrug, heart pounding. “Like I said, I’m not a monster. I wasn’t about to leave the three of you homeless.”
“Then you should have a talk with your sister, because she most definitely thinks you would have,” Cassidy replies. Something about that makes my stomach twist, even though she’s right.
I made myself out to be an utter asshole, and there’s no one to blame but myself.
“You know, I don’t think you’re as big an asshole as either of you think you are,” she says quietly, drawing me out of my thoughts. When I glance over at her, I find Cassidy facing me, hands in her lap.
“You don’t?” I ask, sitting up.
She shakes her head slowly, and I can’t help but be drawn to her. Her scent is overwhelming, making my chest ache for something I can’t identify.
“Why’s that?” My gaze drops to her lips, pink and plump.
“You could ignore us—the kids especially—but you don’t,” she murmurs, leaning towards me. “And you made Cleo smile.”
“Is that a feat?” I ask.
“It’s a whole damn battle you won.” She stops, eyes flickering toward the bedroom. Concern bleeds into her expression. “I don’t think you realise the impact that has.”
I don’t think she realises the impact she has on me. I’ve been alone so long that this feels foreign. Uncertain.
And yet I can’t stop myself from closing the distance between us.
Cassidy doesn’t move away as I brush my lips against her cheek. Featherlight and yet, too much that it makes me pull away.
“I’m sorry—” Before I can finish, Cassidy presses her lips to mine, tasting like coffee and sweet desire.
She’s all soft movements, but there’s little resistance as I deepen the kiss, moulding my mouth to hers.
Sweet desire quickly turns to utter devastation at the small sound she emits, one that goes right to my dick.
She’s got me wrapped around her little finger, and she doesn’t even know it yet. But maybe I can make her mine.