by Iris Morland
“I can’t remember exactly, but the man was chasing me. I couldn’t move. You know those dreams where you want to run or scream, yet you can’t? It was one of those. He kept getting closer and closer and I wanted to yell for help. I couldn’t do anything. I was just stuck.” She shivered. “I hate those dreams. Then I heard what I thought was a crash, but when I woke up, I realized I was dreaming. I guess I dreamed that he crashed into me?”
Caleb considered her. She could just make out his expression with the bright light of the TV backlighting him.
“We’ll find this guy, Megan. I can promise you that.” His voice was low, consoling, and when he touched her hand, she didn’t pull away. “He’ll fuck up, and we’ll catch him.”
“What if he does something worse next time? And you’re not there? You can’t be with me twenty-four-seven, Caleb.” Her voice trembled, and she hated herself for it. When did she become so weak? What had happened to the Megan who could take care of herself?
“I won’t let that happen. If I have to sleep on your couch for the next month, I will,” he vowed. He squeezed her fingers, and she squeezed back. “I’ll never let anything or anyone hurt you. I already lost one friend…” His voice trailed away, and he pulled his hand from hers.
She felt bereft—and curious. Who had he lost?
“Do you think of me as a friend?” she couldn’t help but ask.
His lips quirked upward. “A friend who drives me crazy? Yes. I know we haven’t always been our best around each other, but I hope you consider us friends. In some twisted way.”
She wished the butterflies in her stomach hadn’t started to flutter quite so madly at his statement. He considers you a friend and nothing more, she cautioned herself, but it didn’t matter. This was a step in the right direction. If he thought of her as a friend, that meant he cared about her, and if he cared about her…
“Thank you.” She rubbed her arms, and those butterflies only fluttered more when Caleb wrapped a blanket around her. “Thank you, for a second time,” she said with a little laugh.
Maybe it was the darkness, or the time of night, or the feeling of safety sitting next to this man who’d just vowed to keep her shadows at bay. Maybe it was that no matter how hard a person tried to keep everything locked inside, inevitably, the need to share, to confide, overpowered those protective walls around one’s heart. Or maybe it was that Megan felt a cord of communion between herself and Caleb, and with every breath and beat of her heart, it only strengthened between them
“When I was a kid, I didn’t always feel safe,” she admitted. “You know about my mom…”
He nodded, but he didn’t say anything.
She inhaled a breath. “Well, when she drank, Sara and I didn’t have a parent. Our mom was passed out drunk on the couch or at some bar, and we had to fend for ourselves. Sara did her best—she ended up being the mom our own mom wasn’t. She went to the grocery store, she went to Goodwill to get me clothes for school.” A sad smile touched Megan’s lips. “She tried her hardest, but she was a kid, too. But for so many years, I would lie awake at night and listen for my mom to come home, hoping that she would and also hoping she wouldn’t come back. I was terrified that a police officer would come knocking to tell us she was in the hospital or, worse, dead.” She swallowed against the sudden tightness in her throat. “It was hard to concentrate in school. I couldn’t invite friends over. Sometimes I would get so scared that I couldn’t breathe.
“I don’t want to feel like that ever again,” she said as she caught Caleb’s gaze. “I don’t want to feel helpless. I vowed to myself I would never be in that position again. I hate that this person has made me feel like this again, like a little girl who can’t do a damn thing for herself.”
Tears spilled over, but she wiped them away with a brusque gesture. She refused to cry in front of Caleb—again. I can’t be weak. I can’t break down. She swallowed until the tears seemed to disappear, her sniffling the only sound in the darkened room.
When Caleb didn’t say anything, she let out an awkward laugh. It was a cross between a giggle and a sob, and she was infinitely glad the room was dark enough that he couldn’t see how badly she was blushing right now.
“God, I’m a mess,” she muttered as she started to get off the couch. “I should try to get some sleep.”
“No, don’t. Stay.” He touched her arm.
She gazed down at him. Her heart thumped, and she was surprised he couldn’t hear it as well. The movement also jostled Gary enough to awaken him. Hopping down from Caleb’s lap with a yowl of annoyance, he hopped onto the nearby chair to sleep un-accosted.
“You’ve lost me my cat, so now you definitely have to stay.” His voice curled around her body like tendrils of silk. “So you owe me.”
She sat down, smiling a little. “I’m not sure how that logic works, but okay. I wouldn’t want you to get bored.”
“Around you, Megan, I’m never, ever bored.”
Memories of their kiss—the first one, the second one, the third one—filled her mind. Heat licked at her limbs, and her blood rushed through her veins.
She didn’t know who moved first. She only knew that Caleb had his hand on her cheek and she had her hand on his thigh, and then their mouths met in what felt like a sort of inevitability.
His lips were soft but insistent, and she gladly opened to him. She moaned breathily as he kissed her—kissed her so thoroughly that her body was practically melting—and he hauled her onto his lap. Her legs around his hips, she couldn’t help but notice the hardness pulsing against her. She shivered in his arms.
At least I know that he still wants me. The thought thrilled her, and she kissed him harder.
He sifted his fingers through her hair, and the messy bun she’d put it in earlier collapsed. He wrapped tendrils of it around his fingers as he licked inside her mouth. The bristle on his chin and cheeks rasped her skin. Humming delightedly, she threw herself into the kiss, not caring that this would probably end badly, that he hadn’t come here to kiss her but to do his job, that Caleb Thornton was like a drug she’d never gotten out of her system.
No, she didn’t think about any of those things.
He broke their kiss, but only so he could kiss down her throat. She felt the warm silk of his tongue laving a trail, and she tipped her head back to give him better access. When he nipped her, she gasped. Her breasts ached, and her nipples peaked under the thin cotton of her tank top. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and when Caleb cupped one breast in his palm and realized this fact, he let out a tortured groan.
“God, you drive me insane. Why couldn’t you wear oversized long underwear or something?” He sounded deeply disgruntled by this.
She laughed. “Because it’s summer and I don’t own any?” She pushed against his palm, and the sensation of his warm hand on her breast made her shiver. “Touch me, Caleb. Please.”
He grunted, which she took as assent. He pulled the straps of her tank down her arms to expose her breasts. She couldn’t see his expression well in the dark, but she couldn’t help but tremble as he stared at her, like he couldn’t believe this was happening.
She couldn’t believe this was happening, either, yet it also felt right. She wanted this. She wanted him.
His thumb brushed over one tightened peak. It was barely a touch, but she felt it through every nerve of her body. She panted as he thumbed one nipple and then the other, rubbing them until they were aching buds, desperate for his attention.
He kissed her on her sternum. “Fuck, you smell good,” he rumbled. “I wish I could see these beauties better, though, but I’m sure as hell not getting up off this couch.”
She grinned, running her hands down his broad shoulders, feeling the tight muscles of his arms. What would Caleb look like without a shirt on? Magnificent, she decided. He had a lean strength, almost wiry, but deeply masculine. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling his heart thumping beneath the fabric of his sweater.
When he tipped her b
ackward onto the couch, she let out a squeal of surprise. He kissed her like a marauder, taking complete control, and she loved it. She’d had more than one boyfriend in her past, and sex had always been enjoyable. Some guys were better than others. But she’d never liked having any guy try to take over, mostly because that meant they would get their pleasure while neglecting her own.
But with Caleb, she knew that wouldn’t be the case. As he scattered kisses along her collarbone before circling a nipple with the tip of his tongue, she didn’t move to stop him. She only arched toward his mouth, begging for more.
He sucked one nipple, muttering her name, and she touched his hair. When he stripped her of her pajama shorts and panties, she only let out a moan. She was desperate for his touch, for release, and as he played with her breasts while his long fingers sifted through the curls covering her sex, she thought she might die if he didn’t go faster.
She tugged on his hair, which made him nip her below her left breast. He moved down until his face was right above her sex, and he watched her in the darkness as he parted her folds and petted her. She knew she was wet already, and his light strokes only made her wetter. She felt swollen; she pulsed against his fingers. She didn’t even realize she was begging for more until she heard a voice, seemingly distant, in her ears.
“You’re so gorgeous.” He dipped a finger into her sheath, and she clenched around the invasion. “I’m going to make you come so hard that you’ll never think of any man but me. Every time you touch yourself here, you’ll think of me.”
Her eyes widened, but she only undulated faster as he pressed a second finger inside of her. “Caleb…”
“Because you’re mine, Megan. Mine, and mine only. You know it and I know it. Say it. Say you’re mine.”
She gasped. She bit her hand to stop from screaming, and then she cursed when he withdrew his hand.
“I’m yours,” she whispered. It felt like a vow.
“God, baby.” He kissed her on her sex, his tongue delving through her folds, and she lost her mind.
Pressing her legs apart so he could rest between them, Caleb laved her sex, the sound of his licks and groans of appreciation mingling with her own desperate sounds. She was so close already. He thrust his fingers inside her again, and when he sucked her clit inside his mouth, she exploded. Like powder to match, she detonated, and she shook so hard that the couch shook underneath her.
Caleb continued to kiss and lick and suck, drawing her orgasm out as long as he could. She gasped for air, and she felt like she’d died. Euphoria and terror took over in equal measures within her heart.
Caleb drew her up and into his arms, and she clung to him like a sailor lost at sea.
I think I’m in love with him was the last thought in her head before she fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.
9
The morning following their night together, Megan struggled to stay focused in the bakery. She was infinitely thankful that Jubilee had the day off, otherwise she knew the girl would interrogate her mercilessly about her brother staying the night. Not that Megan would’ve volunteered that information, but nothing in Fair Haven stayed a secret longer than maybe one day, if not two, if you were lucky.
Megan glanced outside to where Caleb stood on patrol. Her body heated—only from looking at his back!—and memories assailed her with such thoroughness that she didn’t hear the customer clearing his throat the first time. Or the second time.
“Ma’am,” the man said. “You okay?”
She almost dropped the pastry in her hand, and a bright blush bloomed on her cheeks. Flustered, she muttered, “I’m fine. Sorry. Here’s your Danish.”
The man nodded slowly. “Great. How about that coffee, too?”
Megan restrained herself from hitting her forehead against the counter. Get it together!
Although she continued to peer at Caleb from the corner of her eye all morning, she was busy enough that she was able to convince herself that she wasn’t bothered by his presence. Or that she wasn’t thinking of how he kissed her last night. Or how he said her name, or how warm and solid he’d felt, or how he’d smiled that smile that could melt any girl’s panties when they’d awoken in the early hours of the morning. Or how he’d made her scrambled eggs that were burnt and tasteless and yet they’d somehow managed to be the best eggs she’d ever eaten.
By lunchtime, her nerves were slightly more settled. After cleaning the tables in the front, she heard the front door bell ring.
“Welcome!” she called over her shoulder. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”
Megan wiped the last of the crumbs and headed to the register. She smiled with genuine happiness when she saw who it was: Abby Davison, a nurse at the local hospital in Fair Haven. Short and plump with light brown hair, Abby exuded a warmth that Megan rather envied. Abby understood people, and she was the type of woman you could confide in after meeting her only recently. When she saw Megan, her lips curved into a smile.
Abby wasn’t traditionally pretty, but she had a fresh-faced kind of beauty, with her bright complexion and dark-lashed brown eyes. As far as Megan knew, Abby was single, and the wheels in her mind started to turn.
Just because I can’t get my love life together doesn’t mean I can’t help other people’s, right?
“Abby, so nice to see you,” Megan said. “How are you? It’s been a while.”
“I know, I’m sorry. It’s been crazy at work, but today I woke up craving one of your cinnamon rolls. Can I get one of those and an Americano?”
“Of course. Coming right up.”
As Megan made Abby’s coffee, she asked, “How’s work? Last time we talked, you were looking at a promotion.”
“That’s right. I got the promotion. I’m the head nurse in the ER, which basically means I get to tell every other nurse what to do while I get to go to boring meetings with administrators.”
Megan laughed. “Sounds fun. So I guess you don’t have to empty bed pans or do sponge baths?”
“No, thankfully. Those things are for the LPNs.”
Megan handed Abby her coffee and, after Abby had paid, they chatted for a bit longer. Megan realized with an inner grimace that she really should’ve messaged Abby earlier about getting lunch or coffee. She’d been so wrapped up in work that she’d neglected friendships as a result.
Abby cocked her head, gesturing at Caleb standing outside. “I heard about what happened. How’s it going? And with that guy hanging around all day?”
Megan considered, but she needed to confide in someone. Sara was too busy with Harrison and James, and Megan didn’t want to upset her. So Megan told Abby everything—the man following her, Caleb staying over. Well, except for the heavy petting on her couch. Some things a girl needed to keep to herself.
Despite the fact that Megan didn’t say anything about what had happened on her couch, Abby sensed there was more to the story. “I wouldn’t blame any woman going after him, even if he is a Thornton. He’s yummy in that uniform. And everybody knows that he’s had a thing for you since the dawn of time.”
“He has not,” Megan said automatically. Because if she denied it out loud, then she wouldn’t obsess over him. Or something. Her mind was so twisted up that sometimes she didn’t know what was up or what was down.
“Yes, he has. You know he has. Don’t act like you don’t know. I know you think you guys have this hatred for one another or something, but it’s all foreplay.” Abby sipped her coffee while pinching bites of cinnamon roll to pop into her mouth. “You should get on that, otherwise somebody else will.”
“What, like you?” Megan almost growled.
Abby laughed, a bright sound that filled the bakery. “No, not me, only because you’ll murder me in my sleep. I like being alive, thank you very much. Besides, I’m tired of men. I’m on a man-Sabbatical.”
Megan knew vaguely that Abby had had a boyfriend, but nothing about the particulars. She almost asked her what had happened, when the front door bell rang and in w
alked not just one, but three Thornton men: Harrison, Caleb, and another brother who Megan had only seen a handful of times. Mark Thornton? She thought that was his name.
Seeing that trio of pure testosterone entering her bakery rather felt like her world tilting on its axis. It was no wonder the men were popular with the opposite sex: with their good looks and sex appeal, they were a sight to behold. Yet only one Thornton drew Megan’s eyes: Caleb, whose dark-green-eyed gaze held her own until she was rather afraid flames were licking up and down her body.
Her attention was only diverted when she saw the look in Mark’s eyes when he looked at Abby. Megan knew when a man was interested, and Mark’s eyes seemed to spark with it as he took in the pretty nurse.
“Ladies,” Harrison drawled, his handsome face creasing into a smile. “Megan, I don’t believe I know your friend.”
Thankful for the respite from Caleb, who looked apt to carry Megan outside and lock her up in his tower, Megan replied, “This is Abby Davison. She works at Fair Haven Memorial.”
Abby shook hands with Caleb and Harrison, yet Mark stood behind, his hands in his back pockets.
“Have you met our younger brother?” Caleb asked. “This is Mark. He only comes to civilization twice a year. Or is it just a once a year now?”
Mark’s lips curled. “I try not to leave my ranch more than I need to.”
“You own a ranch?” Abby asked.
“In Milltown. Ever heard of it? No? Most people haven’t. It’s a dot on the map. Most people drive past it on their way to Portland.”
“I have heard of Milltown, actually.” To Megan’s surprise, Abby seemed…flustered, but only if you paid attention. Otherwise, her aplomb was remarkable, and Megan attributed it to her working in a fast-pace environment like the ER.
“Maybe I should visit your ranch on my next trip to Portland,” Abby said. “What do you do? Raise cows? Horses? Chickens?”
