by Kim Law
They’d both been so stupid. And so stubborn.
“I suppose it did.” Cal’s jaw clenched as he looked away from her, and though she tried to be patient, when he continued focusing on something behind her, she whispered his name.
She’d been so wrapped up in her own anger all this time, that she’d forgotten what she’d done to him.
“Cal,” she said again, and finally, he brought his gaze back to hers. And he allowed her to see the depth of his anger. She pressed her palms to his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“I was wronged, too, Jill. You hurt me, too.”
“I know I did.”
“Yet all this time, all these years . . . it’s been about you. Your anger. Your punishing me.”
She hesitated. Her punishing him?
He had said he’d entered the competition just to get her to talk to him.
Good Lord, how childish could they have been?
“So you wanted to punish me back?” she asked.
He nodded at her question, and in a blink, the hardness edging his eyes began to soften. “We’re idiots,” he told her.
“The biggest kind.”
Cal’s hands covered hers, where they still rested on his cheeks, and he leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips. When he pulled back, he said, “I’ve held on to this anger for too long, too. I’m ready to move on.”
“Let’s move on together.”
Cal kissed her again then, only, instead of letting him end that one, Jill pushed him back to the mattress. They’d done enough talking for the evening. Enough sharing. It was time for round two—of a different kind of sharing.
Chapter Sixteen
“Never be afraid to push. Friends, family, or lovers. If you don’t want the best for the people you care about, then why bother caring at all?”
—Blu Johnson, life lesson #45
Cal made a left, pointing his truck down Dump Road, and worked his lower jaw to stretch out his cheeks. They ached from all the smiling he’d been doing that morning. It was stupid, really, but he’d awoken in Jill’s bed, her body wrapped snuggly against his, and he’d been wearing a ridiculous grin ever since.
It would remain on his face for the rest of the day, and again the following day, if he had his way.
He passed a slower vehicle, then he glanced over at Jill.
She gave him a teasing smirk. “You’re smiling again.”
“I have reason to be.”
“Surely not because it’s been twelve years since you’ve gotten laid. I’m the one who should be smiling about that.”
“Maybe I’m smiling because it’s been twelve years since you’ve gotten laid.”
That thought had added a lightness to his step. He’d listened to her story the night before, and having been there with her as a teen when she’d made the decision to change the path she’d been on, he’d understood why she’d made the choices she had over the years.
But the testosterone-driven part of him had wanted to strut naked in front of all the girls. Because Jill Sadler hadn’t had sex with anyone since him.
“Males can take pride in the simplest of things.” Jill rolled her eyes at him. “It’s not like you ruined men for me, or anything.”
“Of course I didn’t. You just didn’t want any after me.”
He laughed at her derisive snort, then he held out his hand to her. “Scoot over here, Jilly-Bean. You’re too far away.”
Her brows hiked up. “Calhoun Reynolds. Are you suggesting that I slide over there and practically sit in your lap? As if we’re nothing more than a couple of sex-starved teenagers?” Her hair was pulled back, and with the wind from the open windows whipping it out behind her, she looked almost like a teenager.
“More like my sex-starved grandparents,” he tossed back, and though he cringed at the idea of it, the words made Jill laugh. “Come on.” He patted the seat beside him. “Sit by me. Pretty please? Granny always snuggled up next to Papaw on their Sunday-afternoon drives.”
“But it’s not Sunday, Cal.” Jill scooted over, and as she did, she slid a purposeful hand over his thigh. “So, what did your grandparents do on Saturday-afternoon drives?”
He covered her hand with his—then he pulled it to his groin. “I don’t know what they did on Saturdays. But if their days were anything like mine . . .”
Jill giggled as he’d intended her to, and he closed his arm around her shoulders. His chest swelled as she let out a happy sigh and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder, and he decided he’d take that Saturday over most any other. After waking that morning, they’d spent another hour in bed before taking their activities to the shower. With all the upgrades she’d added, Jill’s house was nice, but it was only a two-bedroom, one-bath, and he’d found himself anxious to bring her back out to his place.
He made a right and leaned into her as he turned, and when he pressed a kiss to her temple, she let out a sound reminiscent of a purr. He whispered in her ear. “Close your eyes.”
She looked up at him. “What?”
“Close your eyes.” They didn’t have the radio on, and the windows were open. He slowed as they neared his favorite bridge. “Listen to what’s around us instead of looking at it.”
Jill closed her eyes.
Cal lowered his speed, welcoming the sounds of the outdoors into the cab with them. The wooden bridge creaking beneath them—while underneath the bridge, water streamed over the rocks. A bird chirping as they came off the other side of the bridge. And along both sides of the road, tall grasses whispered as they passed.
Cal pulled the truck over, shifted into park, then rested his head on the seat back and closed his own eyes. He could hear Jill’s soft breaths right up near his face. She was as quiet as he as they took in the beauty surrounding them. He made out the pounding power of water from a hidden waterfall he knew to be about half a mile away, and another, softer but steady churning from the dip in the stream that occurred two hundred feet off the road. A cow mooed on someone’s farm, and another answered. Bugs of several varieties chittered in the air.
“There’s so much more going on out there,” Jill said after several minutes. “I had no idea.”
“Papaw used to do this for Granny after she started losing her eyesight. She loved Red Oak Falls, but her love affair only increased when she had to see it with her ears.”
Jill turned her face up to his. “How is your granny?”
“She’s doing pretty well. Fully blind now.” She’d begun developing macular degeneration in her early sixties. “Still as sharp as ever, though. Doesn’t let me get away with anything. She turned eighty-five last year.”
“How often do you get out to see her?”
Jill used to visit with him occasionally. His grandmother had asked about her a few times over the years. “I’m heading out there tomorrow, actually. I usually see her twice a week, more if I have the time. And I call her if I can’t make it out.”
“Even after all these years, you still make the drive that often?”
“Of course.” He furrowed his brow. “Who else would go if I don’t?”
“I know Aunt Blu has been out a few times. I assumed Rodney. And I guess I figured others did once in a while, as well.”
He nodded. “They do. People from church, mostly. But not as much these days.”
“And why did you never bring her home with you?”
“You mean for a drive?” He took in the landscape around them. “I do sometimes. She loves it. I will again once the show finishes filming, but she understands that right now my time is limited.”
Jill’s fingers touched his jaw, and he turned back to her. “I meant to live with you,” she said softly. “In her own home.”
“I . . .” He stared at her with confusion. That had never occurred to him.
“You said she still has her wits about her, so why not bring her home? I’m sure there are plenty of people who would love a job sitting with her while you’re out.”
He tho
ught about his and Jill’s argument in Vegas. She’d been screaming at him by the time his granny came into the conversation, telling him that they could move her to LA with them. Had that been what she’d meant? Actually with them?
And why had he never thought about doing that himself?
“Was it because of Rodney?” Jill asked when he didn’t answer. Before last night, Cal had never talked with Jill about his uncle. “Did you not want her to know how much he drinks? I remember you had another uncle—”
“I don’t know,” Cal interrupted, and before she could ask any more questions, he turned his head and looked out the window, effectively shutting her down.
He’d let all these years pass by being no better than his own father. The profoundness of that sat heavy in his chest. His grandmother could have been with him all this time. In the home and the city that she loved. Instead, she’d lived by herself.
It had always worried him that he might be more similar to his father than he wanted to believe. But those worries had stemmed from concern over not having it in him to care enough about a potential wife. A child. Wasn’t that what all the women he dated eventually said when they broke up with him? That he didn’t care enough?
Therefore, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that he’d never thought to take care of his own grandmother.
Yet it did.
“Let’s go to your house.” Jill pressed her lips to his jaw. The touch was more one of comfort than sexual in nature. “Show me your home, Cal. I want to see it.”
He nodded, still discombobulated at the thought that he’d been as uncaring as his father, and put the truck in gear. And as they drove, both of them lost in their own thoughts, his mind shifted off his grandmother, and played through the night before. Specifically, the part after he and Jill first made love.
Jill had confessed that she was still angry with him . . . and he’d admitted the same.
He’d been aware of his anger since she’d moved back to town, but until she’d pushed, he’d never realized that the ultimatum had been his biggest sticking point. She’d gone for the jugular that day, and she’d known it. So he’d lashed back. He’d left. But there had been one thing to come from last night’s conversation that he hadn’t given voice to. Because it only became clear to him at that very moment. And that was that Jill hadn’t loved him enough to choose him. That’s the real reason they’d broken up.
They’d had a plan before heading to Vegas. Yeah, she’d talked about wanting to go to LA for a long time, but that had been about wanting to find her dad. At least, that’s what he’d always believed. Which Cal had not seen as imminent. They could have taken a trip out West at a later point. Spent time in California instead of moving there. He’d even said this to her on occasion. Because his plan had been on track. And his plan would have allowed for them to exist.
Rodney had just promoted him to head foreman, and Cal had already talked to his uncle about buying into the business when the time came. Jill had been on board with all of it. At least, she had until the time came to choose. And the reality was, she’d not chosen him.
He turned into his drive, and as he started over the ruts, Jill asked, “Why does no one know about this place?”
He looked at her. “Because I didn’t want to tell anyone until it was ready.”
“And when will it be ready?”
He’d lied to himself for months now. Just as he’d lied for twelve years, pretending his anger had only been about Jill refusing to speak to him. He crested the hill, and as his home came into view, he answered honestly. “Six months ago.”
Cal led Jill through his house, one room at a time, with each space being more impressive than the one before it. The living room had been massive. Wood-burning stove and rock fireplace, a huge big-screen TV, and a couch and leather recliners, each of which looked large enough to hold a small family.
The kitchen was a chef’s dream. Marble countertops, high-end appliances, tons of prep space. The setup had made her wish she were a better cook.
And then there was his bedroom. Jill stepped inside the masculine space and instantly fell in love. A California king sat against a feature wall painted in navy, which sported matching trim in a diamond pattern to give it a three-dimensional look. There was a seating area in the far corner, and even though they’d passed a library down the hall, there were also built-ins in this room, with several books already tucked away on the shelves.
She moved into the en suite bathroom, and literally drooled. Multiple body jets filled the spa shower, with a panel to control the water temperature, and the space was large enough for four. She slipped beyond the glass door and turned her face up to the rain showerhead and groaned.
“I want to move into this spot right here.”
Cal’s deep rumble reached her ears, and when she looked over at him, she instinctively understood that he was either picturing her naked in his shower right now—or thinking about when they’d been naked in hers that morning.
She wiggled her brows at him and stepped out. “Take me through those French doors I saw in the bedroom, Master Reynolds, and leave your dirty thoughts inside your head.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He wrapped his hand around hers and led her from the bathroom. But before they stepped into the backyard, Cal leaned in and pressed a kiss just behind her ear. “But you don’t know what you’re missing,” he teased. “I have it on great authority that you like my dirty thoughts.”
She shivered at his touch, and let herself get swept up in a kiss. And only when they surfaced for air did she remember they were in his bedroom for a tour—and not for more.
Forcing herself to leave the kissing behind, she stepped across the threshold to the outside world Cal had created for himself, and she shoved all dirty thoughts aside. Because she once again fell in love.
She tried to take in everything at once. The patio was expansive, formed of natural stone, with a dark-stained pergola covering it. It included a daybed swing, a hot tub, and a fireplace. And all of that was nice. Extremely. But the true selling feature was the view of rolling hills, with trees of every shape, size, and color, as well as the pond he’d mentioned her first time out. It winked off in the distance, and Jill could make out deer standing next to it. One even had his head dipped, drinking from it.
She looked up at Cal, feeling as if she’d stepped into a fairy tale. “Why in the world haven’t you moved in here yet?”
He returned his gaze to the view. “I don’t know.”
Those were the same words he’d given concerning why he’d never brought his grandmother to live with him, and her stomach suddenly quivered. What was going on with him?
“Cal?” She said his name as if stepping through a minefield, but when he answered her, he ignored the real question.
“I have plenty of reasons. No kitchen table, for one.”
“But you have a bar top and stools.” She didn’t take her eyes off him. “Try again.”
“There’s also the matter of no towels or linens.”
“Amazon,” she volleyed back.
“The basketball court hasn’t had concrete poured.”
She only harrumphed at that, and he shifted his gaze to stare toward the renovated barn.
“And the cable hasn’t been run.”
She said nothing else, deciding to wait him out, and when he finally gave up and looked at her, she slipped her hand in his. “You don’t actually believe any of those excuses, do you?”
He said nothing.
“Anyone can go without cable, Cal. And honestly, that’s the most valid thing on your list.”
“You’ve gone without it for five years.”
“I have. And yes, I have issues. We both know that. But we’re not talking about my issues right now.”
“And what if I don’t want to talk about mine?”
She kissed his fingertips before letting go of his hand, then she lowered to the swing. “Then I guess we don’t talk about them.” She set the swing in motio
n. “But I wish you would. What’s going on, Cal? Your house is ready, it’s been that way for six months, and it’s gorgeous. What’s holding you back?”
“It’s just not been the right time.”
She patted the cushion, and when he settled in beside her, she slung her legs over his thighs. “I can understand your reluctance,” she told him. “A little, anyway. I know your grandmother’s house holds most of your good memories from childhood.”
“It holds all the good memories.”
She conceded his point. While she’d been busy lamenting the unfairness of her life after her mother had died, he’d shared his burdens concerning the lack of love from his father. She could tell nothing had changed on that front, but something about this situation seemed unhealthy.
“What are you afraid of?”
Cal stiffened at her question. “I’m not afraid of anything.”
“Then set a time to move in.”
His jaw remained hard. “Fine. I’ll do it after filming ends.”
“Great. When after? The following weekend? A month later?” She leaned into his space and forced him to look at her. “Next year?”
“Back off, Jilly. You’re looking for a smoking gun here, and there isn’t one.”
“But I think there is.”
“I’ve just been busy with Rodney,” he told her. “As you pointed out, the man drinks too much. I get calls in the middle of the night on a regular basis. It’s easier to pick him up if I’m not out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“And easier than being alone?”
He eyed her with suspicion. “What are you talking about?”
She stretched out an arm, taking in the vastness around them. “You clearly love this place, and I can see why. I’d love it, too. Yet you bring no one here. You don’t make it a home. You tell no one you’ve got a home.”
“I’ve brought you out here twice.”
