7. Cale #2
My head doesn’t feel any less messed up by the time I step into the kitchen, finding Oakley and Melanie sitting at the breakfast bar, eating toast. They’re talking quietly, their heads close together and mouths curved up, looking a helluva lot better than they did last night.
I expect things to be awkward—stilted conversation, limited eye contact—and I run through what I need to do or say to get us back to neutral territory when Melanie glances over at me, and blood immediately surges into my dick.
“Morning,” she says, tone all casual and friendly, like I don’t know what her pussy tastes like when she comes. “I made coffee. It should still be hot.” She tips her chin toward the coffee pot.
Feeling more than a little off-kilter and wondering why I like the fact that she’s here and making enough coffee for me, I latch onto the excuse to get behind the counter, hiding my body’s traitorous reaction to her. “What’s your plan for the day?”
Melanie lifts a shoulder. “I’ve emailed my clients from my phone, letting them know there’ll be a delay while I get everything sorted.
” She grimaces lightly. “I’ll get on the phone with the insurance company after I drop this guy”—she ruffles Oakley’s already messy hair, ignoring his complaints—“at school.”
“They’ll need a list of the damage,” I say, sipping my coffee. “I’ll come over with you, help assess everything.”
Something slips across her expression, but it’s gone before I can get a read on it.
“You don’t need to do that. You’ve done enough.
” The words are right, but there’s a coolness to her tone that grates.
I just made all kinds of promises to myself about keeping my distance from her.
Now she’s doing exactly what I want, and I’m changing courses faster than a soldier dodging gunfire.
I don’t answer straight away, taking in the set of her jaw that warns me that arguing won’t get me anywhere. I turn my focus to the kid. “You good?”
He bobs his head, finishing his mouthful before asking, “Can we play Mario Kart when I get back from school?”
Melanie eyes him, and something tells me this has already been a topic of conversation this morning—probably one that ended with her telling him not to ask me.
I hide my smile behind my coffee mug. “Sure, Killer. Why would I say no to getting beat some more?”
Over his head, her nose twitches. “Why do you keep calling him Killer?”
Oakley takes another bite as he tips his head back, eyes locking with mine, full of silent warning. I grin back.
“No reason,” I tell her. “Just those excellent karting skills.”
The suspicion glint in her eyes doesn’t lessen, but she lets it go.
“I’ve got to take Oakley to school in fifteen minutes, and then we’ll be out of your hair.
” She looks away from me, hiding behind her hair.
It doesn’t have the effect she’s looking for, because all I can think about is the way those silky strands felt wrapped around my fist.
“I’m guessing you’ve got work today, anyway.”
It takes me a few blinks and a couple of deep breaths to clear my vision. When I’m steady, I use the same casual tone she’s using to announce, “Already called in to take a personal day.”
“What?” She shoots me a startled look, and I smile innocently. “Why?”
Before I can answer, Oakley pushes his plate away. “I’m gonna go get ready.” He slides off the stool and stomps toward the door.
She calls him back. “Plate in the dishwasher, bug. You know the rules.”
“Rules don’t count in other people’s houses.”
She narrows her eyes at him. “Am I still your mother?”
He pauses, like he’s sensing a trap. “Yeeeeeah,” he drags out reluctantly, and I see the flicker of humor in Melanie’s expression.
“Then the rules still apply. Plate. Dishwasher. Now.”
He does as he’s told, shooting her the grumpiest scowl I’ve ever seen, and then he’s gone, leaving us alone with the silence stretching out between us, heavy with meaning. I wait Melanie out, watching as her shoulders get tighter, preparing herself to tell me what’s what.
“I appreciate you letting us stay here last night, Cale, but I don’t need your help today,” she starts, her voice polite. “You shouldn’t waste a day off for nothing.”
I finish my coffee, leaning an elbow against the counter, my attention fixed on her face. Melanie is keeping her stare averted from mine, but there’s a faint flush in her cheeks that tells me she’s not as unaffected as she’s pretending to be.
“Do you know what I do for a living?”
Her eyes dart to me, brows drawing down. “You work at the security firm across town. Onyx Protections.”
I nod. “Know much about it?”
She taps her fingers against the counter, watching me like I’m asking her a trick question. “No, except that you go out of town regularly. And someone said they like to hire people from military backgrounds.”
“After years of being deployed, it turns out that more than a few of us aren’t exactly equipped for desk jobs.” I shrug. “It eases us back into civilian life without losing the skills we’ve built over the years.”
“That makes sense.” The lilt to her voice tells me she doesn’t get what I’m laying down. Not yet, anyway.
“Onyx has a few services it provides, including home security.” I lift my eyebrows pointedly. “So, I’ll come with you today and scope the place out for an alarm system. That way, we can make sure this doesn’t happen again.”
Melanie’s face gets this pinched look, the furrows in her brow deepening. I fight off the urge to reach out and smooth them away. She’s going to tell me to butt out, mind my business, but I jump right back in before she can.
“I’m also gonna call Garth. See if he’s got time to come and assess the damage.” Her eyes narrow, clearly remembering how much I’ve already overstepped. “Heard he’s fixing up your bathroom floor. Those YouTube videos not as instructional as you’d thought they would be, darlin’?”
Her mouth tightens just as Oakley shouts from the guest room, “Mom! Where’d you put my shoes?”
“Wrong question, bug!” she calls back, blue eyes never leaving my face. “Where did you put them?”
There’s a pause, and then, “Never mind!”
Melanie leans in close, the scent of her shampoo drifting over me, sending a spark of electricity shooting down my body.
“I appreciate you letting us stay, Cale,” she says sincerely, her voice quiet, like she doesn’t want Oakley to overhear us. “I’ve got this. I’ve been on my own long enough, okay? I don’t need you coming to save the day. And last night—”
“This has nothing to do with last night,” I cut in quickly. “We both know what that was, and this”—I wave a hand between us—“has nothing to do with that.”
Her eyebrows lift like she doesn’t quite believe me. “Right.”
“I’m being neighborly, alright? This is a small town, and we come through for each other.
” My smile feels unnatural on my face, but I fumble my way through, something in my chest pushing at me, knowing I can’t just let this go.
“Let me help, Melanie. I’ve got the resources and the know-how.
And if I don’t, I’ll know someone who does.
” I grab Mel’s hand with mine, stroking my thumb over her knuckles.
She drops her eyes, watching the movement.
“I don’t know,” she murmurs, so I nail the final point home.
“You know, you won’t be able to stay at home tonight. Or even tomorrow. Not unless Garth’s got no other jobs going.”
“He’s not the only construction company around,” she retorts, eyes flashing back to mine. “I could ask Hennessy Builds.”
I squeeze her fingers. “Melanie, it’s okay to take help when it’s offered. I know that this whole thing is gonna set you back in a lot of ways, including financially.”
Mel’s eyes are burning with anger, her mouth pursed into a thin line. Before she can call me out, Oakley marches back into the kitchen, bag already hooked over his shoulder.
“Fine,” she hisses out, teeth gritted. “You can come over with me when I get back, but you let me handle this how I want.”
The tension leaves my shoulders, and the smile that tugs at my lips is easy—and just slightly smug. “Whatever you say, darlin’.”
Her eyes flash with a mixture of annoyance and desire, and it’s enough to know that Melanie isn’t quite as finished with me as she’d like to be.