Seduced in Secret

by Shiloh Walker

  The big black man was married to a woman just a couple inches taller than Tessa’s five foot three and Amelia’s voice was a match for Jerome’s.

  At an office picnic, she’d seen the two of them get into an argument—it had sent birds screeching from the trees. Five minutes later, they’d been wrapped around each other.

  The idea of him handling the unhappy parent Tessa had dealt with was more than a little amusing—and appealing—but that was Tessa’s job.

  Fortunately, though, one she wouldn’t have to deal with until next week.

  “Go on, you all,” she said. “Get out of here.”

  She had a few more phone calls to take care of then she was going to do the same.

  Maybe, if she were lucky, her mystery man would call her tonight.

  ∞

  As she drove into her drive, she saw Caleb in the yard next to hers, his lean body tanned, gleaming lightly with sweat. His gloved hands gripped a tree as he carefully eased it into a hole in the ground.

  Tessa told herself she didn’t need to feel guilty as she stood there and studied his muscled back. His body was far from perfect. At least, society’s idea of perfect. He was lean and hard with muscle, but there were scars, a number of them. The worst one was low on his back, just left his spine, disappearing below the waistband of his low-slung khaki colored work shorts. The light coat of perspiration made him look that much more tantalizing and she swallowed, told herself to look away.

  But then her eyes drifted back and she let herself stare.

  After all, she’d given the ring back.

  Although, okay, it was still kind of odd to be ogling her best friend.

  Caleb had been her best friend for years. His grandmother had lived right across the street from the house where Tessa that had lived all her life. She’d bought the house from her parents when they decided to move to Florida. Caleb’s father had died when he was twelve and both Caleb and his mother had moved in with his grandmother, leaving the two of them to spend the rest of their childhood growing up together. They’d gone to school together since kindergarten, but while she’d gone to college, he’d joined the Navy.

  Contact had been sporadic then.

  Caleb had always been focused on one thing—becoming a SEAL, just like his father.

  He’d done it, too.

  That life had a left a mark on him, although she didn’t see how it couldn’t.

  His laughing face had become more solemn and his eyes rarely smiled. Infrequent visits home, sporadic letters, none of that changed their friendship. He’d come home, they’d visit and laugh and talk and it was like the time since they’d last seen each other faded away.

  But soon enough, he was gone again and she’d be left to wonder if that time would be the last time. The last time she’d see his slow, almost reluctant smiles, or the last time she’d tease a laugh from him, or the last time they’d sit outside talking until the moon rode high in the sky.

  And then he took a bullet in the thigh.

  He’d been working an op—he wouldn’t tell her what or where, so she didn’t bother asking. He’d just sent her an email out of the blue one day. It was short, simple and to the point.

  Dear Tess,

  Please don’t worry, but I’m in the hospital. You made me promise to write you if it ever happened, so I’m keeping my promise. I took a bullet in my back. Don’t panic. I’ll be fine. But it looks like I’m getting an early discharge. Maybe you can pick me up from the airport when they finally spring me. I’ll call you.

  Months passed before the call came and when it did, she was there to pick him up from the airport. His mother had long since left and moved. But to Caleb, home was the house across the street that sat empty…like it was waiting for hm.

  He’d limped out of the airport, using a cane to help him walk and she’d looked at him and known.

  He’d told her not to worry, but she had and she knew she’d been right.

  He’d almost died.

  He’d never tell her and she wouldn’t ask, but she’d almost lost her best friend.

  It had been close to two years since then, and he’d been working on rebuilding his strength and going to school.

  After a moment, he drove the shovel into the ground and called out, “You going to keep staring at me or come over here and talk to me?”

  Heat flushed her face, but she managed to respond levelly. “Just making sure you don’t overdo it over there, old man. You finally got to getting around without that cane after all.”

  He slid her a glittering look, a half smile curving his mouth up.

  “You come over here and say that to my face, sweetheart. Calling me an old man?”

  “Well…if the shoe fits.” She shrugged and made a face at him. Then she darted inside.

  As good as it might feel to unload on Caleb, it was a two-edged sword. She could tell him anything. But if she did, he’d see far more than she wanted him to know. Because he saw everything.

  She wasn’t quite sure she was up to that today.

  ∞

  When the door shut behind her, Caleb braced his wrists over the top of the shovel and tipped his head, staring up at the sky.

  Tessa was good at neatly placing him in her organized little world. He was in the space she’d set aside for friend and as far as she was concerned, that was the only space he’d ever occupy.

  He had no problem proving her wrong, but there were days when he thought it just might take a battering ram to make her see it.

  It hadn’t been enough that he’d asked her to the prom.

  Hadn’t been enough that he’d written her every week while he was gone in the Navy.

  With a smirk on his face, he lifted up the shovel and caught some dirt, dumping it back in around the base of the tree he was planting. His grandmother had always wanted a dogwood right in this spot. He hadn’t been able to plant it for her while she was alive, but he always figured, better late than never, right?

  Of course, that theory wasn’t always a good one. It definitely wasn’t proving to be a good one when it came to Tessa.

  Tessa.

  Brooding, he slid a look toward her house and then grabbed the shovel, went back to shoveling dirt back into the hole.

  Better late than never.

  Yeah.

  Right.

  His mother hadn’t understood why he’d insisted on keeping the house after Gran had died. She’d remarried just a few years ago, moved to South Carolina, happy—really happy—for the first time since Dad had died. She wanted the same thing for Caleb. What she didn’t understand was that Caleb’s happiness was here, living in the cottage-style house across from Gran’s old Cape Cod.

  It had always been Tessa for him.

  He’d come back to find her involved with some stiff-necked doctor who couldn’t appreciate that the sky was blue, much less the woman he had in Tessa.

  Ol’ Tyson, the idiot couldn’t appreciate the sweetness of her, or the sharp attitude that slid out on occasion. He couldn’t appreciate the wry sense of humor or the loyalty or the brains or the determination.

  Caleb could. And he had, for what seemed like all his life.

  Maybe if he’d told her that before he’d left for the Navy, things would be different.

  Still brooding over it, he went to his knees and tamped down the earth. His back twinged and his left knee stiffened up, but he ignored it, pushing through the lingering, familiar pain as he scooped, patted, pressed.

  He moved on to the next tree and continued to work through the heat of the evening, his eyes adjusting easily to the fading light, his muscles warmed, body finding a rhythm. Sometimes he wondered why he’d elected to go to law school at all.

  He was happiest outside.

  A bottle appeared in his line of sight.

  He smiled and dragged a forearm over his brow. “Haven’t you heard you’re not supposed to drink and plant?”

  Tessa chuckled. “I think you’ve planted enough.”

 
; “Well, maybe.” He looked up and studied the yard. “Maybe. For now.”

  The four trees he’d bought were down, along with about half a dozen flowers and a couple of shrubs.

  “Knock off already and sit down, have a beer with me.”

  He rose, tipped back the bottle, and drained half of it in a series of short, thirsty pulls. Then, after giving Tessa the bottle to hold, he stripped off his dirty gloves and tossed them into a heap near the rest of the gear he used in the yard.

  “Miss Betty would have loved this,” Tessa said softly.

  “Yeah.” He ignored the ache in his throat as he held out his hand and took his beer back.

  She held up her bottle and they clinked the neck. He saw hers and grimaced. “I thought we were having a beer together, Tess. That shit you drink isn’t beer.”

  “No.” She smiled at him and took a dainty sip of her cider. “It’s much, much better. I don’t know how you can stomach that crap you drink. Even the smell is repulsive.”

  “Puts hair on your chest.” He winked at her. It was an old, familiar argument.

  She glanced at his bare chest. Save for a scattering of hair that started at his navel and ran down, Caleb couldn’t really boast a lot of chest hair. “Clearly, it’s slow to work.”

  He chuckled and started up the cobblestone sidewalk.

  She followed him and they settled on the porch, side by side. She’d changed out of her pretty little pink suit into a pair of capris—pink again—and a white T-shirt that read Automatic doors make me feel like a Jedi. He’d brought her the shirt from Seattle when he’d had a weekend’s leave.

  She probably had two or three hundred odd little gifts laying around her house from places he’d visited over the years.

  Every single one had been a silent I love you.

  She hadn’t seen the message.

  But Caleb was patient, always had been. She’d been the one to sneak into Christmas presents early, while he would take his time with each and every one come the big day. He understood the value of taking his time and he was going to wait.

  She lifted her bottle to her lips, took a slow, lingering drink and he looked down, as he always did, to stare at the ring.

  But it wasn’t there.

  He grabbed her hand.

  “Hey!”

  Cider splashed on both their hands as he unbalanced the bottle. He barely noticed.

  “Damn it, Caleb!”

  “Your ring.”

  She stopped trying to pull her wrist away and an odd, strange silence fell around them.

  Slowly, he looked up.

  Tessa was looking off into the west. He’d worked so late into the evening, the sun was starting to set. It painted her skin with the softest of golds and the colors of the sky reflected in her eyes.

  She was so damn beautiful it hurt to look at her.

  She remained silent and he had to fight not to do anything.

  Patience.

  “I gave it back,” she said, her voice rough.

  She tried to tug her hand away, but his grip instinctively tightened.

  “You gave it back.”

  Finally, she looked at him and managed a weak laugh. She shrugged and this time, when she pulled away, he let go. He didn’t have much choice because if he kept touching her now, he’d do something stupid.

  “Yeah.” She lifted the bottle, but put it down without taking a single drink. Then, with shaking hands, she shoved her hair back. “I gave it back. You kept telling me it wasn’t right, Caleb. You were right. But when aren’t you?”

  She shoved upright and paced away, folding her arms around her middle.

  He wanted to beat his chest, wanted to grab her.

  But she looked fragile and shaken.

  He opened his mouth, searching for something to say. He’d been waiting for this. Hoping for it. Planning for it. Planning for it ever since he sent her that damn basket. Yeah, he’d been planning. He was the one who knew Tessa, understood her, loved her. He knew things about her that would probably surprise the hell out of her, had learned things that drove him crazy, and waiting for her was killing him.

  If he’d had any sense at all, he would have just told her the day Tyson had proposed and fuck being the good guy.

  But he’d waited. Because he was used to doing the right thing and the guy had proposed and she’d said yes. It had thrown him for a loop and Caleb hadn’t known what to do.

  Sending her the basket had been equal parts desperation and dismay. She’d agreed to marry a man she didn’t really love—and Caleb knew she didn’t love Tyson. She was going to marry a man who’d never make her happy.

  He’d never tease her. Never play with her. Never make her burn up inside the way Caleb knew he could.

  She needed to know that.

  So he’d started a half-ass plan to make her realize it.

  The basket, phone calls, letters.

  It was a case of obsession, plain and simple, and he knew it. He could get his ass locked up and if he was caught, he’d never practice law. Granted, it wasn’t likely he would be caught—he’d broken in the small, private practice where she worked as a manager of a pediatrician’s office and it was child’s play compared to all the other places he’d broken into.

  He called her, late at night, using technology or just plain old subterfuge to disguise his voice. Again, child’s play.

  The hard thing was waiting…and lying to her.

  Because that was what he was doing and he knew it.

  Waiting was the hard part.

  The waiting was driving him insane. But now the ring was gone.

  Mouth dry, he went to take another swig from his bottle only to find it empty.

  Blankly, he stared at the bottle.

  “Back in a minute,” he said, shaking his head.

  He stood up but on his way inside, she got up and followed him.

  He mutely held the door open and she followed.

  On the way into the kitchen, he asked, “So what happened?”

  “I just realized you were right—you told me a dozen times I didn’t love him. Lately, I’ve been thinking the same thing and…” She stopped and looked away, a blush settling over her cheeks.

  He studied her for a minute, running his tongue across his teeth.

  Then he headed into the kitchen. He rummaged through it and came out with a bottle of beer. Twisting off the cap, he sent it spinning through the air, hitting the trashcan dead center. Slowly, he looked back at her.

  She had her arms wrapped around her middle.

  And she was still blushing.

  “Is it because you figured it out?” he asked, dread knotting inside him. “Or because your secret admirer got inside your head?”

  What’s it matter?

  Tessa slid him an odd look, clearly puzzled. “You know, you’ve been on me for months to wisen up over Tyson. Now I have.” She made a show of scratching her head. “But unless I’m imagining things, it almost sounds like you’re irritated.”

  Now, head cocked, she lifted her cider to her lips and took a drink, staring at him, a dare in her eyes.

  “What gives?” she asked after she lowered her bottle.

  Blowing out a breath, Caleb stood there. He couldn’t answer her. Not for the life of him.

  ∞

  Tessa had left.

  Alone in the quiet of his house, he locked himself in his bathroom, taking another beer with him. He was hot and tired; the muscles in his leg screamed and his back on fire from the exertion. They hadn’t bothered him earlier, but he knew the kind of tricks the mind could play on a guy. Now that he wasn’t distracted by Tessa, now that he was alone, now that he was brooding, the physical pain was going to creep up on him.

  He’d spent nine months renovating the house and getting it the way he wanted, and the bulk of that had been focused on the kitchen, the bedroom and the master bath. The sunken tub had provided untold relief for his messed up back and the heat from the shower jets soothed the muscles he
continued to abuse.

  Now, with his shoulders braced against the wall, he closed his eyes and let the water beat down around him as he thought about Tessa.

  She’d given the ring back.

  She had seemed…fine.

  Almost happy, really.

  No strain in her eyes and no tension lingering to stiffen her shoulders.

  Happy, her soft mouth smiling…

  Her mouth.

  Caleb groaned and tipped his bottle back, taking another deep drink. He didn’t need to think about her mouth.

  Although how could he not?

  Absently, he put his beer down on the built-in shelf.

  His cock pulsed and he closed his hand around it, his thoughts still centered on Tessa and her mouth. Her smile. Fisting his hand around his penis, he drew it up, then down. His cock jerked demandingly, his balls drawing up.

  Here he was again, about to jack off again, while he held a picture of her in his mind. It was familiar territory, something he’d been doing since he was…hell. He couldn’t even remember how old he’d been the first time he fantasized about the pretty blonde across the street. Too young. But old enough to know she was the one he wanted. Pumping his hand up and down, the engorged head of his cock bobbed in time with his movements; he pictured her spread out on his bed.

  Naked.

  Her hands tied.

  Tessa would like that.

  It was beyond fucked up that he knew that, but he did and the knowledge tormented him.

  He knew way too much about her reading material, and way too much about the things she fantasized about. All the things he wanted to do with her, she was already dreaming of having somebody do them.

  He’d fist his hands around the rope stretching between her bound wrists, stare down in her wide, hungry eyes, and come inside her.

  She’d moan.

  She’d shudder and wrap her legs around him.

  “Soon,” he muttered and then he shuddered as he started to come, his cock jerking. The shower washed the semen away and he stared through the spray of water.