by Kait Nolan
A man further down the aisle looked up. “They’re down here.”
“Oh, thanks, man.”
As they got closer, the guy frowned. “It’s Caleb, right?”
He focused in, knowing he recognized the face but not quite able to place it.
“Wyatt Sullivan. We met last year at Joan’s funeral.”
The lightbulb went off. “Right. Sure. You were one of the adoptees that predated me.”
Something flickered over Wyatt’s face. “Yeah. I’d been gone a long time, but you never really forget your time with Joan.”
“True enough. I didn’t realize you lived in Hamilton.”
“I sort of bounce around, living wherever my current flip is. I’m a contractor. Flipping houses is what I do for a living.”
“You’re DIWyatt,” Emerson announced.
Caleb glanced down at her. “He’s what now?”
“DIWyatt. He’s got this whole channel on YouTube with episodes on how to do home improvement stuff. My friend Paisley is a big fan.”
“Oh yeah? Is she into home improvement?” Wyatt asked.
Her lips quirked, her eyes sparking with the first hint of humor Caleb had seen all night. “She’s into men in tool belts.”
“Ah.” Clearly at a loss for how to reply, Wyatt rocked back on his heels. “Are you going to the family reunion in a few weeks?”
Caleb had been so tied up with Emerson, he hadn’t even thought about it. But the idea of getting out of town, taking her with him to meet the family definitely held some appeal. And maybe, if they managed to get out of town, they’d break this streak of interruptions at every turn.
“Haven’t decided yet. Kinda depends on work.”
“I hear that. I’m hoping to be done with my flip. Maybe I’ll see you there.”
“Yeah, maybe so. It was good to see you again. We gotta get home to fix a kitchen sink.”
“You need any help, let me know.” He dug out a card and passed it over.
“Appreciate it, man. You have a good night.”
They made it back to Emerson’s without further incident. After fueling themselves with bucket chicken and biscuits, of which Mooch only managed to beg a tiny piece, they had another hunt for a secondary shutoff valve to the main water line. Caleb finally managed to locate it under the deck. Knowing she’d feel better once everything was done, he dove in. Like all home repair projects, it took longer than they wanted. But hours after he’d showed up, he turned the water back on and tested the new faucet.
“Good as new,” he pronounced. “And didn’t even need to call in family favors.”
“Joan’s kids get around, don’t they?”
“She was a foster parent for twenty-five years. She helped a lot of kids.” He hesitated, shutting off the faucet and starting to gather up tools. “Would you like to meet some of them?”
Emerson studied him. “You want them to meet me?”
He couldn’t take her to meet his parents, but this—showing her where he came from—felt important. “Yeah. The girls—Joan’s actual adopted daughters—are keeping up the tradition of an annual reunion of former fosters. They’ve turned the house into an inn and spa. We could go. Have a weekend away, just the two of us.”
Her smile was wry. “You sure you want to risk going anywhere with me? We could end up with multiple flat tires. Or run out of gas. Or be beamed up by aliens. That’s starting to feel not outside the realm of possibilities for interruptions.”
Closing the toolbox, he slid his arms around her, lacing his hands at the small of her back. “There is nobody I’d rather have flat tires or run out of gas or face down little green men with than you.”
“You’re sweet. And yes, I’d love to go. We might finally manage to make it to bed if we’re out of town.”
He angled his head, studying the tired lines of her face. It was beyond late. He could let it go. But he had a feeling that if he let another night go by, she’d start finding ways to convince herself that there really was some kind of cosmic plan to keep them apart, and he didn’t want to lose ground.
“The night’s not over yet.”
Her brows drew together in consternation. “But everything was ruined. Dinner. My outfit. You had to do plumbing, Caleb. That’s not a date.”
“I got to spend the evening with you, so as far as I’m concerned, nothing important got ruined.”
“I wanted everything to be perfect.” Her lip rolled out just a little in a pout.
Caleb nipped it gently. “You’re here. I’m here. The flood was averted. That’s all the perfection I need, Emerson. Let me take you to bed.”
Chapter 10
Despite Paisley’s lecture, Emerson’s doubts had festered for days. Worry that all the interruptions and chaos were simply a precursor to the inevitable. That she wouldn’t be enough. That she’d somehow disappoint him. She’d wanted all the trappings of romance, all the things she’d thought she could control, so that there’d be something to distract from her imperfections. The thighs that still jiggled more than she wanted. The breasts that weren’t quite as pert as they used to be, with one a little smaller than the other.
But she hadn’t been able to control anything. Every single effort had gone straight to hell. The perfection she’d been chasing clearly didn’t actually exist. Not for them.
As she stared up at the naked yearning in Caleb’s eyes, she understood he meant every word. He didn’t need perfect. He just wanted her.
Would that ever stop seeming like a miracle?
He skimmed his fingers over her cheek. “Do you want me to go?”
She could only shake her head. This wouldn’t be the frantic, mindless passion she’d imagined. This was something else. Something that scared her more than a little. But she didn’t have it in her to turn him away. “Stay.”
His lips curved before he lowered them to hers for a long, drugging kiss that made her forget about the plumbing and the flooding and the ruined dinner. She couldn’t hold on to anything but the taste of him as his mouth opened over hers, seducing her into languid compliance.
Before he could shut down the last of her brain cells, she eased back. “We should try for a bed this time.”
“I’m on it.” Releasing her, he crossed to the back door, pulling something out of a bag she only just now noticed. “Hey buddy. Hey, Mooch. You want a treat?”
At the magic word, her dog perked up, scrambling off his bed in the living room and dancing at Caleb’s feet, until he brought a big round thing out of the bag.
“What is that?”
“Allegedly, it’s an everlasting dog treat. The ball itself is supposed to be nigh indestructible, and the treat compartment is refillable. I’m hoping it’ll keep him distracted for a while.”
“Have I mentioned that your penchant for thinking ahead is a really attractive characteristic?”
“I’m extremely motivated.” He led Mooch back over to his bed. “Lay down. That’s a good boy. Here you go.”
Mooch’s nose twitched as he investigated the toy, then looked back at her.
“It’s okay, baby. That’s for you. You can have it.”
Stub tail wagging, he began to gnaw.
They made it upstairs without being followed. As he stepped into her room, she shut the door, leaning back against it with a sigh of relief. “Mission accomplished.”
His gaze slid over the space. Here, at least, things weren’t chaos. Other than the discarded dress and apron that trailed out of the hamper, nothing was out of place. She’d planned for tonight. The bed was made up with clean, soft sheets, and candles were scattered on the dresser and side tables. Caleb picked up the lighter on the nightstand and began to set them to flame.
Emerson stayed where she was, watching him. He’d never been up here before. The room felt smaller with him in it, a big man moving with purpose through her space, setting the mood she’d wanted. She liked seeing him here. Liked knowing she’d soon have him in her bed. Over her. Under her. Inside
her. And the knowing made her heartbeat quicken.
He came back to her, the flickering glow casting his face in semi-shadow. She’d chosen candles more for the flattering lighting than for romance, but he was looking at her, in her damp t-shirt and old jeans, as if she were Helen of Troy. Anxious again, she tensed against the door.
She was no goddess. She was just Emerson.
Cupping her face in his work-roughened hands, Caleb took her under with more of those languorous kisses, until the nerves abated and his clever hands had stripped her down to nothing but the lacy bikini briefs.
“Oh, I really like these.” He slid one finger just inside the waistband, skimming along the elastic and sparking awareness along her belly and lower.
Emerson’s breath hitched. “Really? I was thinking they were awful and really needed to go.”
On a low chuckle, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. The mattress dipped beneath his weight as he joined her. His mouth came back to hers, and she reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it up.
“You’re getting a bit behind here, Caleb.”
Reaching back with one hand, he tugged it off and tossed it to the floor. “I’m right on schedule.” He began to kiss and stroke his way down her body, lighting little fires along every inch. “I made you a promise the other night. I intend to keep it.”
Emerson’s breath hitched as he began to slowly drag her underwear down. She’d replayed those heated words from his truck over and over, imagining, anticipating exactly this. Her imagination had let her down. The sight of Caleb’s big, broad shoulders between her legs, his hooded eyes taking her in with a reverent curse was better than any fantasy. Slipping his hands beneath her, he dragged her closer and rubbed one stubbled cheek along the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. Just the rasp of it almost sent her over the edge.
“So fucking beautiful. I’ve wanted you for so damned long, Emerson. I’ve dreamed about how you’d taste, how you’d feel. I’m not going to be in a rush here.”
“When I die of anticipation, it’ll be on your head,” she managed.
Chuckling, he closed his mouth over her.
On a gasp, she bowed up off the bed as the stunning pleasure whipped through her. He just used his hands to pin her in place as he drove her completely out of her mind with slow, ruthless precision. He made her scream, and after the first brutal orgasm, he whipped her to a frenzy again, until she was limp and gasping, hoarse from begging and cursing him. Only then did he strip out of the last of his clothes, roll on a condom, and crawl up her body, settling in the cradle of her hips.
He paused there, his heavy cock nudging her entrance. “You okay?”
“I’m pretty sure you killed me and this is the afterlife. But maybe you’d better try again to be absolutely certain.” She figured death by orgasm was a pretty great way to go. Paisley would definitely approve.
He was grinning, his eyes full of warmth and affection as he began to slide inside her. She held that gaze as it sharpened, as her body stretched around him, until the humor fell away and she was so deliciously full of him, she had to close her eyes in an effort to hold onto every moment of pleasure.
She’d wanted perfect, and this was it. He was it. Impossible. Improbable. Hers.
“Look at me.”
At the unmistakable order, she opened her eyes, focusing on his face as he hovered above her, noting the mix of fierce concentration and tenderness. Needing closer, she arched up, taking his mouth and squeezing her legs tighter around his hips to pull him deeper. Deeper. Until he was buried to the hilt.
Caleb shuddered, dropping his brow to hers as he groaned her name. He began to move. With every slow, deliberate stroke, it felt as if he stripped away her defenses. But she couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop the exquisite sensation of being taken by him, cared for by him. Sex had never been this good before. And as they crested the peak together, she knew it never would be with anyone else again.
Caleb woke tired and happy.
Emerson let him stay. He hadn’t expected that. But sometime after round three, they’d both essentially passed out. In truth, judging by the sun slanting across the foot of the bed, that hadn’t been all that many hours ago. Now she slept tucked up against him, exactly where she belonged. They’d need to get up soon, let out the dog, start their day. But he didn’t want to budge from his position as big spoon. Not yet.
Last night had been…everything. Even with the plumbing disaster. Or maybe because of it. That probably made him a perverse bastard, but he liked the domesticity of it. There’d been no pretension, no artifice of special occasions or romance. Just real life that had bled straight into raw needs and wants. They were incredible together in bed, eager and insatiable. But they were equally good out of it. He enjoyed taking care of Emerson and loved that she was starting to let him. They fit on every level, exactly as he’d known they would. It was so easy to imagine what it would be like to be by her side for every day, not just when they could carve out time. A unit.
God, he wanted that.
Now that he had her, it was so damned hard not to reach for everything. She’d left the starting line but she was still a long damned way from the final stretch. Patience was vital at this stage. He wasn’t playing the short game here. He was in it for the long haul. The certainty of that gave him pause. Maybe on some level he’d always known Emerson was it for him. It was why he’d bought the house, wasn’t it? To be closer to her, make her a part of his world in the only way he could? He’d earned her friendship, her trust, and now her intimacy. As she stirred, stretching against him so his cock was nestled firmly against her backside, Caleb told himself he could be content with that. For now.
At the testing flex of his hips, she arched further on a sleepy moan, and he found her already wet. Yeah, he could definitely be content with this. Palming her breast, he slipped through her folds, slowly working his crown against her clit.
“Inside me, ” she murmured.
He started to obey, sliding one precious inch inside her tight, wet heat before he froze.
“Don’t stop.”
“Condom,” he choked.
“It’s fine. IUD.”
Caleb didn’t move. He’d never been with a woman without protection. Had never wanted to risk it. But this was Emerson. His Emerson. If ever there was someone he wanted to take that risk with, it was her.
“Sure?”
In answer, she pressed back, taking him in.
Perfect. She felt so fucking perfect. They moved together in a lazy, easy rhythm, drawing out the pleasure of the slow rise. Every day. He wanted to start his day making love to this woman every day for the rest of his life. The thought of it had his balls tightening on the edge of release. Holding on to his last sliver of control, he slipped his fingers between her legs, circling her clit, until he felt her walls begin to flutter around him. Losing the battle, he surged into her one last time and emptied himself in wave after wave of pleasure.
They lay quiet for a long time after. Was she as wrecked as he was? He sure as hell hoped he wasn’t the only one this far gone.
“You were right,” she rasped.
“About?”
“This is definitely better than coffee.”
He rumbled a laugh, rousing himself to press a kiss to her bare shoulder. “After that, I might sell my soul for coffee and some kind of food.”
“Given I lost count of the orgasms last night, I feel like the least I can do is feed you.” She patted his arm, and he could hear the smile in her voice. “We have to keep up your strength.”
“I really love how insatiable you are.”
“I really love that you can keep up with me.”
I really love you.
But he held the words in, knowing it was too soon. Instead, he released her and rolled out of bed to retrieve a towel. With a playful snap, he tossed it at her. “C’mon, woman. Get moving. You promised me breakfast.”
After a quick clean up, they opened the door to
head downstairs and all but tripped over Mooch, who’d taken up position as a rug in the hallway. He hadn’t made a peep all night. At their appearance, he bounced to his feet and raced down the stairs.
“I’ve got him. You get coffee.” Trotting down after the dog, Caleb opened the back door and let him out.
When he came back in, Emerson was moving around the kitchen in nothing but his shirt. Damn but he loved that.
Enjoying the view, he kicked back against the counter while she measured grounds. “So you answered a question of mine last night.”
“Oh? What was that?”
“I’ve listened to all these books you’ve narrated, including all the sexy parts, and I always wondered if that’s how you really sounded when you came.”
She went brows up. “And?”
“It’s different.”
“Well, I’d hope it would be different from the best sex of my life.”
Caleb couldn’t hold back the smug grin. “The best, huh?”
“I mean, you were there, so…” She shrugged, unabashed. “Stroking your ego at this point seems superfluous.”
More than satisfied with that, he snagged her around the waist and tugged her close, skimming a hand up the back of her thigh to squeeze her bare ass. “Just out of curiosity, have you ever…you know…when recording one of those scenes?”
On a snort, she batted his hand away and moved to the sink. “No way. That mic picks up the barest stomach noises. There’s no way I could or would do that. That would be totally weird. It’s a When Harry Met Sally all the way.”
“A what?”
“You know, when Meg Ryan’s character gets into that argument with Billy Crystal about women faking orgasms and she does right there in the middle of the diner?”
At a loss, he just stared at her.
“You have no idea what I’m talking about.”
“I do not.”
She dumped the water in and started the coffeemaker. “Oh my God, I keep forgetting you’re a baby.”
