Chapter 7 #2
It’s so far from the truth, I actually let out a little laugh.
As if I’d be worried about Caleb taking advantage of me?
Last night, I had to fight myself not to ask if I could sleep with him.
Not to have sex—it’s too soon for that—but as I lay awake, reliving the terror of the fire, I desperately wanted Caleb nearby to help me feel safe.
“Vienna?” he asks, looking confused.
“I’m not worried about you,” I explain. “It’s not that at all. It’s just…”
My throat closes up. My chin wobbles.
Caleb squeezes my hand. “What is it, then? Tell me. Otherwise, how can I fix it?”
“You don’t have to fix it. I should be the one fixing it.
” Blinking away tears, I add, “I feel horrible about what happened. I’m just…
I’m so sorry, Caleb. You’ve been so kind to me, and what did I give you in return?
A burned-down cabin. A hassle you have to deal with.
I wish I had the money to replace it. But I don’t.
I’ll try to save up, and maybe in a few years… ”
“I have insurance,” he interrupts. “I don’t need your money.”
“I should go, though. Get out of your life before I screw it up more. Leave Bliss and try to start over again.”
Caleb stares at me, an unreadable emotion working in his eyes. Then he shifts so he’s sitting beside me and clasps my hand between his. “I want you to listen to me.”
“But—” I start.
“No.” His voice firms. “I’m not trying to be a jerk, Vienna. But I need you to really listen to me. Okay?”
“Okay,” I whisper.
“First off, I don’t give a shit about whose fault the fire was.” Caleb stops. “Well. To be honest, I was blaming myself for it.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
“There are reasons,” he says. “It was my cabin. My responsibility to keep it up. To make sure the fireplace worked perfectly. That the deadbolt didn’t stick.”
“I—”
“But,” he continues. “I’ve learned a lot about guilt over the last few years. I learned how suffocating it can be. How isolating. It can make you think you don’t deserve to be happy, when the truth is anything but.”
My heart stumbles when I realize he’s not talking about the fire. He’s talking about something else.
“You know I was a Marine,” Caleb says. “Three years ago, I retired. But it wasn’t because I wanted to. I had to.”
I’m not sure if I should say anything, so I just nod in silent encouragement.
“I was medically retired,” he explains. “That’s when the military deems you no longer fit to serve. A lot of the time, it happens when someone’s badly injured. They lose a limb, like Gage did. Or they suffer a traumatic brain injury.”
The thought of Caleb injured brings fresh tears to my eyes. “Were you—”
He shakes his head. “I wasn’t injured. Not like that. I’ve had my share of broken bones, bullet—” As my eyes widen, he stops. “Anyway. That wasn’t why. It was PTSD. I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t get over the paranoia. The flashbacks. Just the thought of going back out there…”
His gaze shifts to the window, and he releases a heavy sigh. “I was on an op in Somalia with my team. It was about eight months before I retired. There were fourteen of us, and we were all close. With the time we spent together, we had to be.”
I thread my fingers between his. “And?”
“One of the guys—Trevor—had been struggling, but I had no idea how badly. And one night, he snapped. We were on the way to our exfil—extraction—point, and we’d set up camp for the night.” Caleb’s gaze darkens. “We were asleep when the gunshots started.”
I gasp. “He shot you?”
“Not me. Once we realized what was happening, me and a couple of the other guys managed to stop him. But not before…” Caleb’s face twists. “He killed three men that night. Good men. Men with wives and families and… Shit. It was horrible.”
My heart wrenches at the pain in his eyes. “Caleb. I’m so sorry.”
His mouth presses into a thin line. “Yeah. Me too.” After a few silent seconds, he adds, “Not long after, I started having symptoms of PTSD. I went to counseling, but it didn’t help.
Things just kept getting worse. I couldn’t leave my apartment without having a panic attack.
Everywhere I looked, I thought there were enemies coming to get me. ”
“Caleb.”
“I didn’t want to leave. But I couldn’t do my job, either. Even if, by some miracle, I made it out on an op, I would have been a liability to everyone on my team. So when the doctors brought up medical retirement, I went along with it.”
“Then what?” I ask.
Caleb makes a small gesture with his chin.
“I moved back here. My parents had been talking about moving south for a while, so I bought the place from them. They stayed in Vermont for about six months while I was living here—to make sure I didn’t lose my shit, I’m sure—but once I could convince them I was okay, they left. ”
Hearing his story, Caleb’s claim about preferring to be alone makes more sense. I haven’t known him long, but enough to know the kind of man he is.
He’s a strong man. A proud one. One who wouldn’t want to show any weakness. Of course it would be easier to hide away than face the inevitable questions of why he came back to Bliss.
“I’ve kept to myself,” Caleb says. “The other night, on the road? I was coming back from dinner at my buddy Enzo’s house. He’s been asking me for years, and I only just said yes. Because I didn’t want to face people. I didn’t want them to see what a failure I was.”
“A failure?” I clutch his hand. “You’re not a failure. Not even close.”
He gives me a small smile. “I’ve come around to that. But it took time.” His thumb strokes across the back of my hand. “It wasn’t just that, though. It was the guilt.”
“But—”
“Guilt isn’t always rational. I know that now. But before… I blamed myself for not realizing how unstable Trevor had gotten. I blamed myself for not stopping him sooner. For being asleep when he started shooting. I felt guilty for surviving when my friends didn’t.”
Suddenly, I feel foolish for my own self-pity when Caleb’s been through so much worse. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” I tell him. “You didn’t. And I’m…” My voice shakes with emotion. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know if that helps, but…”
“It does.” One hand comes to my cheek, resting there for a moment.
“I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel bad for me.
I’m much better now. My PTSD is pretty well under control, aside from some nightmares and not liking fireworks much.
Keeping to myself became a habit. One I convinced myself was better. ”
“I understand.” It’s the same reason I avoided close friendships. After being deserted by my mom and shifted from one foster family to the next, I thought it was better—safer—to avoid close friendships than risk being hurt again.
“But the guilt,” Caleb says. “I let it control me. I let it isolate me. And shit, Vienna. I don’t want the same thing to happen to you. Especially when you have no reason to feel guilty.”
It’s hard to let go of it. “But—”
“And.” He presses on. “It wouldn’t matter. Even if we find out it was the extra log. I don’t care. All I care about is that you’re okay. And… I don’t want you to leave. If you really want to, I’ll help you find a safe place to stay. But I’d much rather you stay here.”
“Why?” I ask.
“Because…” Caleb hesitates. “Because I feel something for you. Something I’ve never felt before.
I know it’s still early and we don’t know each other that well.
But I don’t want you leaving Bliss. I want time to see where things go between us.
If you don’t want to stay here until you find an apartment, I’m sure we can figure out another place in town.
The B and B, or Enzo, his company has housing for clients… ”
Hope sparks anew. “You want to see where things go?”
His gaze holds mine. “I do. There’s something special about you. I knew it from the first time I saw you on the road and you gave me attitude—”
I swat his arm lightly. “I didn’t give you attitude. I was trying to rescue the dog. And you were slowing me down.”
Caleb’s lips twitch. “Then you asked me if I was a serial killer.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. “We were on a deserted road. In the dark. During a snowstorm. It wasn’t an unreasonable question.”
“No, it wasn’t.” He leans closer. “It wasn’t. But that you came right out and asked…” His mouth curves into a smile. “I liked it. I thought you were brave and funny and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
The sparks of hope blossom into a fire. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, either. In the car… I wished you were there. I didn’t know why. I just did.”
“Well.” His hand moves from my cheek to the back of my neck. “I’m here now.”
My heart flutters. And I lean closer still. “So am I.”
Now we’re just a whisper apart. So close I can see the faint scar on the bridge of his nose and the tiny freckle above his left eyebrow. Close enough to catch the scent of mint on his breath.
Close enough to see the need in his eyes.
“Tell me to stop,” Caleb says. His gaze burns into mine. “I don’t want to. But I will. Just say the word.”
But I don’t want him to stop.
“Don’t stop,” I whisper. “I want…”
His lips brush across mine. “You want what?”
My breath catches. “I want you to kiss me.”
“V.” His gaze moves across my face, like he’s memorizing me. “I want to kiss you, too.”
Then he does.
His mouth covers mine, first gentle and slow.
His tongue lightly traces the seam of my lips, but he doesn’t take it any further.
One hand stays at the nape of my neck, tunneling into my hair. The other comes to my back, pulling me against him.
And oh, how it feels to be in his embrace.
His arms and chest are hard with muscle, but he’s achingly tender with me.
I can feel Caleb’s heart beating fast, thrumming in rhythm with mine.
He teases my mouth open to dip inside, tasting of cinnamon and maple with a hint of mint.
His tongue strokes mine, tangling with it.
My body ignites, burning hot at my core and spiraling out.
I’ve never wanted a man this much. Like I’d be willing to cast aside caution and risk it all to make love to him.
No, not love, It’s far too soon for that.
But it could be, a small voice whispers. You know it. You’ve known since the first time you met him.
All too soon, Caleb ends the kiss, drawing away from me with a regretful expression. He trails his thumb across my swollen lips as he says, “I could have kissed you longer. But with it being our first time… I didn’t want to push.”
The flames of hope turn into an inferno.
Maybe coming to Bliss was a good idea, after all.
“It was a great kiss,” I tell him. “And I appreciate you wanting to take things slowly. But.” A slow smile lifts my lips. “Maybe for our second kiss, we could do it for longer.”
Caleb stares at me. His eyes light to a bright, sky blue. Then he smiles. “Yes. I think we definitely could.”