11. Caitlin
CHAPTER ELEVEN
caitlin
Ever since Jake gave me a bucket—well, fuck it—list of items to complete, my mind had latched onto the last item he wrote.
The man told me to buy a fucking vibrator.
To most people, that particular bucket list item would probably be offensive or vulgar, but coming from Jake, it only caused my stomach—and other places—to flutter.
Not that I was planning on using the hypothetical vibrator while thinking about him.
That was a ridiculous thought. Absolutely absurd, and something I had never done.
Yeah, and water isn’t wet.
After looking over the list a few times, I decided decorating the house would be the first item I’d cross off.
I already had a vision for the living room and kitchen, so I just needed to buy supplies and some decor online.
On the off chance I happened to add a vibrator to my online shopping cart, then so be it.
Frame it as killing two birds with one stone.
Plopping myself on the couch, I typed living room decor into my search engine. My eyes scanned the house as I tried to visualize changes I could make for the space to feel more like home.
Maybe I’ll put one of those blanket ladders over there, I thought, imagining a corner with cozy blankets and some potted plants.
I was no interior decorator, so this was much more difficult than I had anticipated.
Adding some floral posters and picture frames to my cart, I closed my eyes and inhaled a deep breath. Then I typed vibrator into the search bar.
The screen took an ungodly amount of time to load, and my face heated, despite the fact I was alone in my own house with my own phone. There was no reason to be embarrassed. I’d bought one of these before, and plenty of women used them, so why was I blushing?
The options that came up were surprisingly overwhelming. The last time I’d bought one had to have been six or seven years ago. Honestly, it was impressive that the one I had lasted as long as it did.
I clicked the first option and immediately backtracked.
I didn’t think I needed whatever this rotating rabbit dual-action vibrator was.
I was sure I’d be asking for overstimulation at that point.
I just needed a simple little bullet to get the job done.
I clicked into a few other options just out of curiosity, amazed at all the different varieties and types of stimulation they could provide.
Before I knew it, I’d been looking at sex toys for twenty minutes, my mind drifting away to all the ways Jake might try to use each one.
“For fuck’s sake. It’s just a sex toy, not a lifetime commitment,” I muttered, finally deciding to just add a regular vibrator wand to my cart.
I was overthinking this whole thing for absolutely no reason.
Like Jake said, there was nothing wrong with a little self-care.
Having a vibrator was empowering, or at least that was what all the social media influencers were saying.
It seemed like every other post I scrolled past recently was someone partnering with a sex toy company to give away free orgasms.
I wasn’t opposed to it, though. In the last ten years, my vibrator had been a more reliable partner than my actual husband, so there was that.
Once I had the whole vibrator debacle out of the way, I realized I needed to go into town to grab groceries as well as some supplies I wasn’t comfortable just ordering online, like paint and wallpaper.
My mom picked up Whitley earlier in the morning, so I didn’t have to worry about bringing her along. The whole arrangement was perfect, because I figured I’d just pick her up when I made my way back from town.
The first stop I made was the hardware store.
Standing in front of the array of paint swatches, I tilted my head, trying to picture what colors would look best. A green accent wall would look nice in the living room, and I already knew Whitley would want to paint her room yellow, but I also thought adding little white roses would be a nice touch.
The problem with painting Whit’s bedroom was that I’d have to move all her furniture out, wait for the paint to dry, then move all the furniture back in.
I supposed she could stay at my mom’s place while I did all this, but we’d only been back in Silver Creek for a month and my mom had already taken care of Whitley so many times.
I didn’t want her to think I was dumping my child and my responsibilities on her the moment I had someone who was willing to provide that support.
Forcing the worries out of my head, I reached for a yellow paint swatch. The sound of footsteps behind me caught my attention, and I spun around to come face-to-face with Bethany, one of the elderly women from my mom’s old church group.
“Caitlin Carson! I thought that was you. Or do you go by Holmes now?” Bethany crooned at the sight of me then tapped her lips as though she was deep in thought.
Eventually, she shook her head and clasped her hands together.
“Anyway, what a surprise! I had no idea you were back in town.” After pausing again to think, she said, “Well, I’d heard rumors of it at least, but now that you’re here in the flesh, they must be true. ”
“Good afternoon, Bethany. I suppose it depends on what the rumors are, but I am living in Silver Creek again. And it’s still Carson.”
“Hmm, I see. Now, you know, Phyllis and Janet were saying you were living with that Flynn boy.” Bethany huffed. “Said something happened between you and your husband, but I told them that can’t be true. Not our sweet Caitlin.”
My eyes squinted, brows furrowing. “Actually, Phyllis and Janet were telling the truth, or at least partially. Adam and I did get a divorce, and I’m living in Jake’s guest house with Whitley.”
By the way Bethany gasped, you’d have thought I told her I was performing demonic rituals in my basement and not just living in someone’s guest house. Once she’d gathered a little bit of her composure, she clicked her tongue, the tsk sound grating on my ears. “That boy is trouble, young lady.”
I shrugged, silently pleading for this conversation to wrap up soon. “He was kind enough to offer me a place to stay since my mom doesn’t have space and Colter and Ellison are about to have a baby.”
Her eyes lit up. “Oh! Do they know if they’re having a boy or a girl yet?”
I shook my head. “They’ve decided to keep the gender a secret.” Even if I did know, it wasn’t my place to tell anyone.
Bethany pouted, obviously unhappy with my response. “Well, back to what I was saying, then. Why on Earth are you staying with that boy?”
Arguing with her would lead nowhere, so I gently explained, “If he hadn’t offered, I wouldn’t have a place to live right now, so I can’t complain about my situation.”
She still shook her head in disbelief, her next words completely ignoring what I’d said.
“I heard from Edith and Charles that he’s been in cahoots with his father.
You know his father went to prison for dealing drugs a few years ago, right?
That family brings trouble wherever they go.
” Bethany took my hand in hers, grasping it as tightly as she could, false worry in her voice.
“You’ll stay away from that boy if you know what’s good for you. He’s nothing but a disappointment.”
Annoyance prickled at my skin, but I bit my tongue. “I appreciate your concern. I’d better be going. I still need to get this paint mixed”—I held up the swatch—“but it was lovely seeing you.”
“Think about what I said, Caitlin. You know the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
God, that woman was still spewing her bullshit about Jake, even as I was leaving. Perhaps her last comment was a dig at me, too. Considering my parents got divorced shortly after I got engaged and my marriage had a similar fate.
I shook my head as subtly as I could, trying to wrap my mind around why everyone latched onto Jake’s past. I loved my small town, I really did, but the people who lived here could be cruel.
A bunch of vultures and vipers ready to strike at any given time.
I attributed it to the population being older and lacking filters, but that didn’t excuse the kind of things they were saying about Jake, a man who took all their criticism and gossip on the nose.
Rudy liked him, so that had to say something, considering the old man was practically royalty in this town. Everyone adored the bar owner, and rightfully so.
As annoyed as I was, I wouldn’t tell Jake about the conversation I had today with Bethany. Some things were better kept a secret. I’d just continue to defend him.
Once I’d completed all my errands in town and picked up Whitley, I took us back home.
Deciding to paint later, I set the buckets in the entryway underneath one of the benches.
I’d have to move them later, but since they were still sealed, I was confident Whitley wouldn’t be able to pry them open and make a mess.
I’d turned on Bluey for Whit and was in the middle of organizing the kitchen when knuckles rapped against the front door.
I could just barely make out a tall, male figure through the window, but I already knew it was Jake by the way the man shifted back and forth on his feet, hands in his pockets.
I wiped my hands on a kitchen towel then rushed to the door, pulling it open with a grin on my face.
Unable to hold in my excitement and offer a normal greeting, I blurted, “I bought paint today!”
Jake raised his brows, his eyes widening, before letting out a small chuckle. “I’ve never seen someone so excited about paint before.”
I rolled my eyes, stepping aside to let him in. “Well, it’s part of one of the items on the bucket list. Decorating the house.” Backtracking, I added, “I mean, if painting is okay with you.”
“Of course. You have permission to do whatever you want to the house, remember?” Ruffling a hand through his hair, he joked, “Just don’t burn it down or do anything illegal. That’s all I ask.”
“Shoot, I really wanted to start up a drug lab in my bedroom,” I teased before giving him a sheepish look, remembering it might be a sore subject for him given his childhood. “I just wanted to make sure. You’re the owner, after all.”
He shook his head. “I’m not worried, Cait. I’m sure whatever you have planned for the house will be better than anything I could do. Besides, I’m sure you already know I had to have Isabelle help me with decorating as it is.”
I laughed, my eyes bouncing to the floor. “I kind of assumed. Not that I doubt your style or taste in decor, but I expected the place to look more like a bachelor pad, if I’m being honest.”
“Nah, that’s what I have the main house for.”
“What, so you’re telling me you’ve got mounted fish and dead animal heads all over your walls?”
“More like cowboy hats, jerseys, and autographed baseballs,” he retorted, amusement shining in his eyes.
“Ah.” I nodded. “So, who has more cowboy hats? You or Colter? I’ve seen their living room.”
Jake didn’t even have to think about his response, answering without hesitation. “Definitely Colter. But if the competition was for baseball caps, I think I’d have him beat.”
“That’s impressive.” I jutted out my lip and nodded.
Colter had to have had at least eight cowboy hats, if not more. At one point, his entire TV stand was storage for baseball caps. Then Ellison moved in and made him at least hang them on the wall.
“So…” I wrung my hands together, twisting the ring on my thumb, a nervous habit I’d picked up over the years. “Did you need something, or did you just come over to say hi? If not, I can put you to work by helping me rearrange the kitchen cabinets.”
I wasn’t actually serious, but he nodded anyway before his gaze flashed down to my fingers, almost all of them sporting a ring, except for the most important one.
“What?” I subconsciously tucked my left hand away.
“Nothing.” Even though his voice was unwavering, a distant look had glazed over his eyes, his normally bright-blue irises cloudy. In an instant, the haze was gone, and he shook his head as though breaking himself out of a trance. “Put me to work.”