As sexy as I found the cool and confident Caleb, I liked this side of him even more.
He pushed me onto my back and pulled at my pajama shorts, ridding me of them and my panties in one fell swoop. With his head between my thighs, he grinned up at me with a wicked twinkle in his dark gaze.
“Caleb,” I said breathlessly. My skin tingled with anticipation. I squirmed.
“Shhh, baby,” he murmured, his breath warm on my sensitive skin. “Let me make you feel wanted.”
~000~
Caleb was different. He never got jealous. Or cocky. Or angry. Mark was always flirting and making suggestive comments, and he’d roar with laughter anytime he made me blush. Caleb would merely smile or laugh along.
It’s not that I wanted him to be jealous or act like a possessive caveman. I just didn’t know where I stood with him. We’d agreed on “no promises”. But what did that really mean?
He was tender and affectionate. Even when I was clearly nursing a broken heart from my ex.
“What’s wrong, Parker?” Caleb asked me. “Your brow is all puckered up.”
I focused on his handsome face and bit my lip. Before I could stop myself, I blurted out, “Why are you never jealous?”
Oh god. Serious word vomit.
I wanted to shove the words back in my mouth, but Caleb just grinned at me and quirked a dark eyebrow.
“You want me to be jealous?”
I shook my head. “No, that’s not—” I sighed. “Nathan. He—”
Caleb stood from where he sat on the opposite side of the table and moved to stand in front of me. Leaning down, he took my chin between his thumb and index finger and tilted it up.
“People get jealous when they’re scared of losing,” he said seriously. He bent down and took my lips in a soft sweet kiss, then whispered, “I’m not worried about that.”
I swallowed hard. “You’re not?”
“No.”
Confidence. That’s what it was. Not arrogance or cockiness. Just smooth, simple confidence oozed from every word, every look, every kiss, and every pore.
He kissed me again, a little deeper this time, parting my lips with his top one. His fingers slid up the side of my jaw and he cupped the back of my head, tangling his fingers through the long strands of my hair.
He pulled away and disappointment tugged at my insides.
“I’m not worried about losing you,” he said, then he winked and disappeared into the back of the bus.
Stunned and confused I fell back against the booth style seat. What the hell did he mean by that?
~000~
The next day I was more than ready to get off the tour bus. Our next show was just outside Chicago. Nervous excitement buzzed through me.
This was guaranteed to be a big show. Probably my biggest yet.
I was stretched out on the couch reading a book when Caleb walked in a plopped down next to me.
“Hey,” Caleb said, nudging me with his shoulder. I looked up from my book. “Will you come with me somewhere when we get to Chicago?”
I pursed my lips. After his comment yesterday—which I dissected with Katie over the phone—I was still feeling confused and unsure about where I stood with him.
“Sure,” I said slowly. “Where are we going?”
“Dinner,” he said. “With my family.”
My eyes widened. “Your family?”
For once Caleb’s unflappable calm looked rattled. His face turned a light shade of red, and he squeezed the back of his neck with one hand, looking down at the floor. He looked up at me through his lashes and my heart picked up.
“Yeah, uh...it’s not, I mean,” he sighed. “I just thought you’d like a home cooked meal. It’ll just be my dad and stepmom and my two little brothers.”
Surprised by this invitation and his reaction, I tried to act nonchalant, cool and calm and unaffected like he was usually so good at being. I shrugged, then forced a smile. “Okay, sure. Sounds great.”
He flashed me a gorgeous smile. The kind that made his eye crinkle, showing true emotion. For three beats our eyes stayed locked. Then he cleared his throat and turned his eyes to the television.
I was left reeling, not sure what had just happened.
~000~
Caleb’s parents’ house was actually a little outside Chicago in a quaint and quiet suburb. We took a cab there. As we traveled along the jam packed freeway, Caleb reached across the small space between us and intertwined his fingers with mine. I looked up surprised, but his eyes were focused on the window.
Despite all my reservations—and there were many, starting with the fact that he had said he made no promises when we’d started this thing, whatever it was, between us—my heart went all gooey soft.
I studied the strong line of his profile. He seemed different today. Contemplative. Thoughtful. I looked down at our intertwined fingers and watched as he stroked my thumb with his calloused one.
There was a sudden, unexpected depth to him. To us. It was like I’d jumped into a pool expecting the water to be sloshing calmly around my ankles. Instead, I was completely emerged, struggling to keep my head above water.
We exited the freeway and followed a few winding streets until we came to a stop in front of a large house with pale blue shutters, a giant maple tree in front and perfectly trimmed hedges.
Caleb paid the driver and then took my hand again as we walked up the driveway, skipping the front door altogether.
Raucous laughter rang out from the backyard. Caleb looked over his shoulder and grinned at me.
When we walked through a small gate into the large backyard with a huge redwood deck, my eyes widened. There was definitely more than just his stepmom and dad and two little brothers. At least fifteen or twenty people milled about, laughing, talking, and eating.
“Caleb!” an older man with a very round belly and an even bigger smile bellowed when we entered.
I realized this must be his father. They had the same smile and same dark eyes. Caleb let go of my hand and the man engulfed him in a bear hug.
“Okay, okay, old man,” Caleb chuckled, pulling away from his dad’s embrace.
Unbidden, a lump formed in my throat. Pressure, hard and unrelenting, squeezed my chest. My throat was burning and my eyes stung with unshed tears.
Seeing his embrace with his dad made something deep inside me crack open.
I drew in a deep breath and then released it slowly. You can cry later, I told myself.
This had become my mantra. My calming little phase to say when the grief over losing my father became too much. I’d let myself cry later. Alone.
“You must be Ashley,” Caleb dad said, snapping me from my brooding. “I’m Connor,” he introduced himself and when stuck my hand out to shake, he pulled me in and hugged me just like he had Caleb.
Panic clawed at my gut and I felt flushed and sweaty trying to keep it all together. I swallowed against the now giant lump in my throat and blinked back the tears as fast as I could.
I looked at Caleb from the corner of my eye, just as his dad began to release me. There was fine crease between his brows, and a slight frown on his ample lips.
“Okay, okay,” Caleb said, his voice light and joking. Totally at odds with the concern in his dark eyes. “Hands off my girl, old man.”
Connor roared with laughter. Caleb pulled me away, an arm slung over my shoulders. He bent his lips close to my ear and whispered, “Was that jealous enough for you?”
I giggled, the effervescence of my laughter, warmed my chest and pushed away the sadness. That same gooey softness that captured me when he’d held my hand in the car enveloped me again as I registered his words.
His girl.
I was then introduced to every person there. His stepmom, Tammy, his two younger brothers, Chris and Craig. A myriad of friends and aunts and uncles and cousins, most of whom gave me warm hugs and smiles like they’d known me forever.
It felt good. I missed my family.
And
then we ate, until I was so stuffed full of chicken and pasta and various casseroles I thought I would burst at the seams.
Caleb was vibrant and alive, even more so than when he was on stage. And more openly affectionate than he’d ever been before. His hand almost never left mine. It was strange and wonderful.
And dangerous, my mind whispered. Trouble.
After all the guest had left and we’d said goodnight to his parents, we sat out on the steps of the deck together. The midnight sky was smattered with bright yellow stars.
“Did you have a good time,” he asked me quietly after several minutes of silence had passed.
I leaned back on my elbows and lifted my head towards the sky. “Yes, thank you for bringing me.”
Caleb leaned back on his ink covered elbows next to me.
“Hey,” he whispered and I turned my head towards him.
In the low light he looked all smudgy, like a charcoal drawing. The strong straight lines of his jaw and nose, the generous curves of his lips, the strength in his brow and the bottomless pit of his eyes were all that I could see.
He was handsome. He was terrifying.
A perfect dream I knew would end.
The tiny pulse of beating wings flapped against the inside of my chest as he leaned over and kissed me with soft silky lips. Unhurriedly, he pulled back and then kissed me again. Tender. Measured. Deliberate. Brushing his lips over mine again and again, firm pressure with slow steady movements.
I didn’t breath. I didn’t want to break the spell, the magic that was happening between us.
Something was so different about this kiss than every other we had shared. Tears pricked my eyes, and I wasn’t sure why, except there was something bittersweet about the moment, something in his expressive eyes. Tender and agonizing and affected.
“Ready to go back?” he asked, pulling away, whatever moment had been building between us instantly stopped. I frowned in confusion, but swallowed the questions on my tongue. I nodded slowly.
By the time we got back to the bus, Caleb felt further away than ever. I wasn’t sure what had happened. But the magic and allusion of the night had been shattered. I felt cold in the wake of its absence.
Still smoking, Caleb stayed outside while I climbed onto the bus. I crawled into my bunk after a brief shower. Hugging my pillow, my mind replayed the day and eventually I gave into the tears from earlier.
This wasn’t about Caleb or even Nathan. These tears, this pain, this moment was what they had only managed to distract me from. To lessen for brief moments.
Minutes or hours later, Caleb slid into bed next to me, and wrapped his muscled arms around me. I turned in his arms and buried my face in his bare chest. I ugly cried until my voice was hoarse and my sobs dissolved into hiccups.
The whole time, Caleb held me close, stroking my hair and pressing his cheek against my head. I didn’t understand his mood swings. But it was clear in that moment Caleb Mathews was broken just like me.
I pressed my lips together and snuggled into his warmth.
It was these tender moments, between the sex and the music that had me falling for him. Or maybe just the idea of him. It made me wish for more.
I wished for promises I knew he wouldn’t make.
And I wasn’t sure I could keep.
Chapter 20
“Where are you now?” Katie asked.
With my phone wedged between my shoulder and my ear, I struggled to wiggle into my tight jeans as I talked to her. “Portland. Today’s the last day of a three day festival. We’ll be in LA tomorrow.”
“Wow, Ash,” she responded. “I can’t believe just a few months ago I was begging you to sing at Mike’s.”
“I know, right? This whole thing is crazy. I even hear people in the crowd singing my songs now!”
“When will you be home?”
“In a couple of days. But only for a couple of weeks. Then I’ll be back in LA to record my album.”
That statement sounded crazy to my ears. I shook my head in disbelief.
“So,” she said, and I could hear both the hesitation and curiosity in her voice. “Have you talked to Nathan at all?”
I tensed. “No, why?”
“No reason,” she said quickly. Too quickly. My suspicion instantly rose. “I was just curious. How’s Mr. Hot and Sexy Guitar Player?”
Caleb. I wasn’t sure what was going on between us. He was sweet and tender one moment but mysterious and so unconcerned about anything the next, I wasn’t sure where his head was. But he’d said in the beginning no promises. Those two words were on repeat in my mind every time I felt my heart opening up.
And memories of Nathan didn’t help. He’d been sweet and tender. He’d also been reluctant. I closed my eyes and tried to clear my head. There was something altogether different about this thing with Caleb than my relationship with Nathan. I wasn’t sure I could even pinpoint that difference.
I groaned.
Katie chuckled. “That good, huh?
“I don’t know. It’s just…I don’t get him or us. I don’t know what we are or how to act,” I confided.
“Why don’t you just ask him, Ash? Talk. To. Him.”
I sighed. “I’m scared.”
Katie sighed. I was grateful I didn’t have to explain why I was scared. I didn’t even know how to properly articulate it. Especially without bringing Nathan up. And I did not want to do that.
~000~
In LA, Caleb cornered me backstage right before we were supposed to go on. He pulled me out of sight and back me up against the wall, caging me between his arms.
“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, looking intensely into my eyes. The swirling dark depths of his were like melted chocolate. My stomach fluttered.
“Maybe,” I said sheepishly.
Caleb quirked an eyebrow at me.
I didn’t answer his silent question. Instead I stared at him, chewing my lower lip and searching my mind for the right words to say. I kept coming up blank.
“Well,” he said finally. “Maybe we should talk after the show tonight?”
I didn’t move or respond. Caleb leaned in and took my lips in a scorching kiss. His lips moved over mine with fervor. Firm and unyielding, passionate and deep, his mouth claimed mine. I moaned and he growled, eliciting tingles up and down my spine.
I moved to wrap my arms around him, but he grabbed my wrist and held them against the wall next to my head.
He kissed me harder, sliding his tongue against mine and then pulling back to gently tug my bottom lip between his teeth.
He shuffled forward, pressing the length of his body against mine. Letting go of my wrists, he reached down to grab my ass and lifted me up.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as he ground his hardness against me through the thin blue cotton of my dress.
I dug my nails into his shoulder and threw back my head as Caleb kissed a hot wet trail down my throat.
He let go of my ass with one hand, letting the wall support my weight, and started slowly skimming his fingers up my thigh, under the hem of my dress.
“God,” he said roughly against my pulse. “You make me so—”
“ASHLEY!”
I heard my manager screaming. She came into view and Caleb dropped me to my feet. I stepped away, avoiding his eyes and the disapproving eyes of Johanna Pitt as I tried to straighten my dress and finger combed my hair.
“You have to be on stage,” Johanna hissed. She shot Caleb a death glare. “And you do too. Right. Now.”
I peaked up at Caleb and he winked at me, a smirk tugged at the corner of his full lips and those deep dark eyes twinkled with wicked promises.
Caleb patted my butt as he passed me and leaned down to whisper in my ear, “Tonight, okay? We’ll talk.”
“Is that what we were doing?” I shouted to his retreating form. He turned around and continued walking away backwards, grinning like the big bad wolf he was.
“Nah, Parker,” he said. “That was just a w
hisper.”
~000~
On stage, I was on fire. I sang my heart out and the audience ate up the chemistry between me and Caleb.
We might as well have been having sex on stage or confessing our undying love. Every time I walked over to him and he harmonized with me, the crowd went crazy.
The Best Kind of Trouble Page 13
