Chapter 8
CALEB
I can’t remember the last time I watched a movie with a woman.
Not to say that watching a classic Christmas movie with my parents wasn’t nice. It was, in a comforting, nostalgic sort of way.
But the last time I watched a movie with a woman I was actually interested in? That’s a much harder question.
I’ve dated, of course. Had girlfriends here and there. Certainly, I would have watched movies with at least some of them.
That was years ago, though. Not since I left the Marines, and probably several years before that.
If I’m being honest, my memories of those casual relationships are so faded I don’t remember much of them at all.
My mom used to bemoan her forever single son, as she liked to put it. Or when she really wanted to lay on the guilt, her son who’d never give her a grandchild. After everything in Somalia, she stopped, more concerned about my sanity than giving her grandkids.
Whenever she used to bring it up, I’d toss out the name of some woman I’d gone on a date with, just to make her happy.
But I knew I never had any intention of getting serious with any of them.
I liked my life as it was, with my bachelor’s apartment and a freezer full of Hot Pockets and Tombstone pizzas.
The truth of it was—even though I didn’t know it at the time—I simply hadn’t met a woman I wanted to be serious with.
Vienna sighs and snuggles closer to me. Her hair brushes my chin, soft like silk and smelling faintly of citrus. Her hand shifts from where it was resting on my thigh, moving an inch or so higher.
I don’t think she realizes what she’s doing, since she’s just trying to get comfortable.
But my body does, and it jumps to attention.
The zipper of my jeans digs in as my pants go tight.
Need throbs; low and deep.
My hands itch to peel off Vienna’s shirt to reveal what’s beneath. Which I’m pretty sure is nothing, since she’s still wearing my clothes until I take her into town to go shopping for her own tomorrow.
I glance over at her, my gaze skimming over the swell of her breasts, temptingly hidden by my old Marines sweatshirt.
It’s much too big for her, reaching halfway to her knees when she’s standing, but that somehow makes her look even cuter in it.
And I can’t deny the surge of possessiveness that comes with seeing her wearing my clothes.
Vienna turns her head to look at me, and I quickly shift my attention from her breasts to her face, hoping she didn’t notice. I’m not ashamed to be caught looking, but I don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable or give her a reason not to trust me.
A corner of her mouth pulls up. Amusement sparks in her eyes as she asks, “Is everything okay?”
“Of course,” I reply. “Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Did I get sauce on your sweatshirt? Grease?”
Busted.
“No, you didn’t get any food on it.” I try to look innocent. “I was just checking on you. Seeing if you were still awake.”
“Mmhmm.” The other corner of her mouth rises. “So you weren’t checking out my breasts?”
If we’d known each other longer, I’d come right out and admit it. And I wouldn’t feel bad about it at all. From what I’ve seen and felt, Vienna has perfect breasts—high and plump and from the glimpse I got of her in just a T-shirt, with sweet little nipples I’d love to take into my mouth.
But.
We only met forty-eight hours ago. It’s Vienna’s second night in my house. I don’t want her to feel uneasy about being here. I don’t want her worrying that I might push her into something she’s not ready for.
I should have kept my damn eyes off her body. But shit. I’m a red-blooded male with a beautiful woman cuddled beside him.
A woman I like a lot.
A woman I’ll remember watching a movie with, instead of the memory blurring into vague bits and pieces.
A woman I could see telling my mom about, assuming I want to start the whole grandkid topic up again. Which I don’t, because kids aren’t part of my plan. Not just because I’m in my forties already, but what if I have a fluke flashback one day, and it scares the kid, and then—
Hold up, my inner hermit interjects. What are you talking about? You only just met this woman. And suddenly you’re thinking about introducing her to your parents and having kids? Have you really lost your mind this time?
“I don’t mind,” Vienna says. She leans in and kisses my cheek. “If you look. It’s okay.” Then her gaze drifts below my waist. “As long as you don’t mind me looking, too.”
Well, shit.
She really is something.
And maybe it doesn’t matter how long I’ve known her. Maybe when the time is right…
Cupping Vienna’s cheek, I lower my lips to hers. I keep the kiss light at first, giving her time to get used to it before taking it further.
When she opens her mouth for me, I plunge my tongue inside, mimicking the motions I would make if I were buried deep inside her.
Vienna lets out a soft moan and kisses me back, matching each thrust of my tongue with hers. She twines her arms around my neck and climbs onto my lap, straddling me.
Her breasts press against my chest and her nipples pebble into hard buds. My dick nestles between her legs, prodding at her center.
She wriggles a little, working her body against mine.
My erection throbs harder. More insistently.
I want to roll her over so she’s beneath me, covering her body with mine.
I want to touch her everywhere. Discover the color of her nipples and find out how they taste.
I want to put my fingers inside her and work her to a frenzy.
I want to—shit—I want it all. I don’t give a shit that it’s only been two days. I want to claim her.
But it’s more than that.
I want to protect her.
And that’s what makes me slow things down.
Ending the kiss, I lean back against the couch cushions to put a bit of distance between us. Then I inspect Vienna’s face, searching for any sign of discomfort or regret. But I see neither; only half-lidded eyes glazed with desire and parted lips still damp from our kiss.
Just as I’m brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Vienna frowns. “Did I do something wrong?”
“No. Not at all.” I press a quick kiss to her lips. “Just slowing things down a little.”
Her forehead pinches in confusion. “Why?”
Why, indeed, when she gave no indication of wanting to stop?
Because she’s still recovering from last night, and should be taking it easy. Because she’s been through a tremendous amount of shit, and she’s vulnerable. Because emotions are running high, and the last thing I want is for Vienna to do something she regrets later.
I don’t say all of that, though. I just say, “I just want to take things slow with you. It’s important that I don’t mess things up.” Holding her gaze, I add, “You’re too important to mess things up with.”
Vienna’s eyes widen. “Oh.” A slow smile curves her lips. “I guess that’s okay, then.”
Feeling a little unsettled by the intensity of emotion I’m feeling, I shift my attention from her to the empty plates on the coffee table. Two glasses are set beside them, the soda inside watered down from the melted ice. A couple of napkins sit crumpled off to the side.
“Do you want any more pizza?” I ask. “A refill on soda? Something for dessert?”
Vienna looks a little startled by my abrupt change of subject, but she quickly covers it. “I’m good,” she replies. Patting her stomach, she adds, “I can’t believe I ate that much pizza.”
“Well, it’s been a stressful—” I cut myself off as I realize it’s probably not a good idea to bring up all the shitty stuff that’s happened when it’s taken all day for Vienna to finally relax.
“It’s good pizza,” I add as an alternative.
“Mariano’s is one of the reasons I was looking forward to coming back to Bliss. ”
“It is good pizza,” she agrees. Turning on my lap so she’s sideways across it, she loops her arm around my shoulder. “Mariano’s has been around for a long time, then?”
I nod. “As long as I can remember. It’s family-run. The grandkids are in charge of it now. But when I was a kid, it was Mariano himself working the pizza oven.”
A thoughtful expression moves across Vienna’s face. “I like that. Businesses that carry on from generation to generation. It seems like that happens a lot in small towns.”
“I guess it does. Mariano’s, Breakfast Bliss, Rossi’s Outfitters—that’s Enzo’s store—Ellicott’s… They’re all family-run. Or they were passed down from the older generation to the younger.”
At the mention of Max’s shop, I add, “That reminds me. We should be able to pick up your loaner car tomorrow. If you’re up for going.”
Concern etches across her forehead again. “Are you sure? The insurance company hasn’t approved a rental yet. And I can’t afford—”
I silence her with a quick kiss. “I’m sure. I talked to Max. He’s got some extra cars sitting around, so it’s not a big deal for you to borrow one. If insurance covers it, great. If not, that’s okay, too.”
“You’re sure he doesn’t mind? I mean, he doesn’t know me.”
“But he knows me,” I reply. “Ever since we were kids.”
“One of the perks of living in a small town,” Vienna remarks. “Knowing everyone.”
I wouldn’t have said that a year ago, when I thought I was happier keeping to myself.
But seeing how readily the community has stepped up to help Vienna—from Max offering a loaner free-of-charge to Winter starting up a collection to replace Vienna’s belongings—it brings a fresh appreciation to living here.
“I suppose it is,” I answer. Then I kiss Vienna again.
“So. Since you’re off tomorrow as well, I’m thinking we could head into town for breakfast at Delectable Delights.
Get some more of those heart-shaped cookies you liked.
After that, we can stop by the shelter to visit Zeus, and then swing by Max’s to pick up your car.
Oh, and we need to find a clothing store for you.
Winter said she’s bringing some things over, but I’m sure you’d like to have some new things of your own. ”
Vienna stares at me. “Caleb. You don’t need to do all that.”