by T. S. Joyce
Brian snorted and jutted a thumb at Caleb. “You sure you want to go out with a guy who takes you to a bar for your first date?”
I was so relieved he wasn’t treating me like a pariah that I found my voice. “Technically, this is our second date.”
Caleb looked at me questioningly. A confused smile lingered on his lips.
“He took me for breakfast a while back,” I explained.
“Oh, yeah?” Brian asked. “Where?”
“The bar,” I said through a smirk.
The brothers barked laughter, and Brian shook his head in mock disappointment. “All right, Romeo, we’ll be at the old McCall farm if you guys get bored. Booze, a field, cows to tip. Should be a good time.” He turned to leave. “Make good decisions,” he called over his shoulder.
“That’s the first party I have ever been invited to,” I admitted out loud.
Caleb draped his arm over the steering wheel like he was in no hurry to leave. “We can go if you want to.”
“Do you want to go?” I asked.
“Not really my scene. More than likely, there will be a lot of people there.”
“Okay good, because that sounds terrifying.”
Caleb waved to a couple of hecklers sitting on top of the hood of the darkest colored jeep who made kissing sounds in our direction. A smile still lingered on his lips as he pulled out of the parking lot.
Rooney’s Bar was quiet with only a few older men sitting at the bar. A couple of tables were occupied, but the booth in the corner was wide open and beckoning us. It was also the farthest point from the pungent veil of smoke that hung over the bar top.
“What made you decide to work on the rig?” I asked as the waitress put two sweet teas on the table between us.
Caleb rubbed the knuckle on my hand thoughtfully and leaned back. “At first I wanted to work it because of my dad. I wanted to make him proud. But eventually, I figured out that I really liked it. I like the challenge. I like learning the different jobs on it. I work well under pressure and with deadlines. I even like the crazy shifts.” He shrugged self-deprecatingly. “Can’t imagine working a different job.”
“Is it dangerous?”
Caleb smiled mischievously. “Why, you worried about me?”
My poker face was pitiful thanks to minimal contact with other humans. Unfortunate. Caleb’s grin only grew wider, so primly, I said, “I’m sure you’re completely capable of handling yourself at your job.” I took a long, sobering draw of tea from the straw. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“Yes, it is. But that’s included in the challenge part that I love so much.”
He liked his job. I’d worry in silence and spare him my concern.
Achy Breaky Heart blared out of the dusty, old jukebox in the corner. I groaned internally but Caleb grabbed my hand. “Come on,” he said.
We took our time choosing the perfect song. He fed the machine a quarter and I pressed J-14. Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers sang to the uninterested bar about how waiting was the hardest part.
“Burgers are ready,” the waitress called.
Caleb waved and led me back to our booth. He waited until I was seated to take his own. I thought it sweet that, for all his rough edges, he still had the manners that were probably expected in our grandfathers’ day.
“You ever had a boyfriend?” Caleb asked. His cheeks flushed and the mortified look on his face told me he didn’t mean to wonder out loud.
My face was probably scarlet, too. I tried to ease his discomfort by answering. “Once. I was twelve.”
Caleb’s eyes danced with relief. “What was his name?”
“Jeremiah Prichard. He was short and brainy, but he didn’t ask me too many questions, and he talked enough for the both of us. I let him hold my hand once.”
Caleb passed me an onion ring off his plate. “Scandalous.”
“I thought so. My foster parents would have whipped me good if they found out. That particular couple had a distinct paranoia about their foster kids getting knocked up on their watch.” I giggled at the memory as I shoveled a forkful of cheese fries onto Caleb’s plate, but he stared at me with ghosts in his eyes.
“Do you ever wish things would’ve been different?” he asked.
I shrugged as if it would lift the unease at dredging up old memories. “No use crying over spilt milk. I’ll be right back,” I said, excusing myself. The gritty bits and stories from my past left me raw and exposed, and I didn’t want to ruin the night with them. I needed a minute to put the screaming demons back in their boxes before they came tumbling out for all to see.
The bathroom mirror was a judgmental little beast. As I stared at my pale face, I could all but hear the scritch scratch of little claws tearing at my chain-locked memories. Things I had long ago put away for a day when I was strong enough to deal with them. The locks rattled, thunking softly against memories of my whiskey-shootin’ stepdad, and I took a deep breath to steady myself. Thinking about him now would undo me. Maybe I really was crazy like everyone said.
Caleb deserved better. I didn’t disagree, but I could sure as hell justify going straight back to that table and trying to be better for him.
Rooney’s had changed during my short-lived escape. Minutes ago, it had been a barren landscape with only a few men drinking or snoring softly against the bar top. Now, it was another planet entirely. Every square foot of space was taken by a body. The air stank of cigarette smoke and grease. My gaze fell on Caleb, like a paperclip to a magnet. He sat at our booth, and through the gyrating, raucous crowd, I could see that our table was now full. Becca plucked a fry unapologetically from my plate.
I hesitated. A slow fury burned in me, and I couldn’t bear down on them in such a state. They would see me as a starving dog defending a meal. Caleb scanned the crowd and lit up with obvious relief when he saw me. The crowd pulsed as we tried to reach each other. Everyone was lost in their own world, dancing to a rhythm that was more internal than to the barely audible jukebox music. I laughed at the ridiculousness of our effort as Caleb reached me. I didn’t know if it was the energy from the crowd or his frustration over Becca, but his lips crashed down on mine.
I was shocked into stillness, but as the masses around us kept dancing, I gave into him. I was reckless to be closer to him. I splayed my fingers against the expanse of his chest and felt the hard planes there through the thin cotton of his shirt. A delicious desperation fed his kiss. I touched the long scars that ran down his neck, and he shuddered and dragged my waist closer to him. I wasn’t concerned with hurting his healing wounds. I wanted him to feel me. My mind had stayed stubbornly on those beautiful marks across his flesh for weeks, and I couldn’t wait any longer to feel them beneath my touch. “Caleb,” I said, raggedly. I would lose my mind if he didn’t stop.
He pulled away, panting. “Dance with me.”
It was a natural transition from touching him to dancing with him. I had never danced with a man before, but my body didn’t seem to care. I wondered where my shyness had gone as I moved and laughed and spun. Caleb didn’t take his eyes off me, and when the song was through, we giggled our way off the dance floor.
“Caleb! Mira!” someone yelled over the crowd.
I turned to see Brian waving us back to the table. Tempting if Evan weren’t there watching me like a tiger watches a mouse, and if Becca wasn’t shooting me with flaming death daggers from her eyes. I shook my head at Caleb’s questioning look and waved to his brother before I darted out the front door. Caleb paid for our meal and joined me a few minutes later.
My blood hummed with the high of dancing with Caleb, and I couldn’t quite stop myself from smiling. His hand was warm and strong in mine as he led me to his truck, and an unfamiliar warmth spread to unknown depths inside of me. We dodged comers and goers, and Caleb jerked the tailgate of his truck down and set me easily upon it. I leaned back on locked elbows, the palms of my hands griping at the contrast between the cold metal and Caleb’s absent warmth.
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He put his hips between my knees and talked easily. “Sorry about the crowd. Apparently somebody called Sheriff Clancy and warned him about the party going down at the McCall farm. Brian thinks it was Becca who blew the whistle. So, they peeled out as soon as they saw the flashing lights and moved the party to Rooney’s.”
“I don’t mind,” I said quietly, my shyness returning little by little. “It was actually kind of fun.”
“Yeah?” He donned a slow smile. “For me, too.”
The moon sat full and low in the sky, and I scrunched my nose. “It’s getting late.”
“Yeah, I’d better get you home.” He helped me down from the tailgate and closed it while I scrambled into the cab of his truck.
The remnants of recklessness clung to me as he pulled into first gear. Desperate to cast away the creeping shyness that seemed determined to overshadow the remaining high from dancing, I slid over the bench seat and pressed into his side. He tossed me a quick smile that said he liked me this close and pulled out of the lot. At the one stoplight in town, he leaned over and kissed my temple, and I rested my head on his shoulder. The radio played a soft country song, and Caleb’s fingertips stroked the palm of my hand until my heart raced. My traitorous knees opened for him, and his eyes churned as he watched their movement. He ran a light touch up the inside of my knee, and I closed my eyes against the shiver that shook my spine and shoulders.
When I opened them again, the light was yellow and we’d definitely missed our chance to go. No one was behind us, though, so it was really hard to care. Caleb’s mouth covered mine, and my cheek caught fire where the pad of his thumb rested. Parting my lips, I tasted him and ran my fingers down his stomach. I wanted to feel all of him. His breathing became ragged as he dragged me closer still. The red glow changed to green against his cheeks as the light turned, and he hit the gas and pulled away as I ran kisses down his neck. His breath came unsteady, and a fierce look of concentration took his face as he stared at the road in front of us. His mind was on me, though. I knew it with certainty. I ran my hand down the length of his erection, rock hard under the tight fabric of his jeans.
“Dammit, woman. You have to stop.” His voice was rough like gravel, and he bucked against my hand.
This was too fun to stop. His knuckles shone white against the steering wheel. A muscle ticked under his right eye, and his neck strained with every stroke. He made it all the way up Dark Corner, past my gate, and into the woods before he slammed the truck into park and cut the lights.
I was on fire, burning from within, and the only thing that would save me was his skin against mine.
I loved him. I loved him. I adored every single thing about him.
“Mira,” Caleb growled. “You’re making it really hard to be a gentleman.”
Gentle sounded overrated. “Caleb,” I breathed, laying back on the bench seat, “I already know you’re a good man, but so does everyone else. I want more. I want to know all of you.”
My mind was gone. All logic had fled me at the stoplight, and now the only thing that would satiate me was Caleb’s to give. His eyes never left mine as he rose above me and lowered himself against my hips. He was big, strong, and captivating, and just when I thought I would suffocate under his power, he reached back and shoved the driver’s side door open. Cool air assaulted us, and I gasped as he rubbed against my pelvis. A desperate sound clawed its way up the back of my throat as I fumbled with the button on my jeans.
“Stop,” Caleb said.
“But—”
He shook his head, cutting off my complaints. “We’ve got time.” His able fingers plucked the button where I’d failed, and the slow rip of my zipper filled the cab. He peeled my jeans from me, but the red, lacy underwear I’d picked up from Bealls last week stayed irritatingly on my hips. He studied my pout, and a smirk took his lips. “I told you the first time would be special, Mira.” He made a show of looking around, one golden eyebrow winged up. “This ain’t it.”
“Damn you, Caleb.” My voice had dropped to a whisper, and I crossed my arms over my chest like a shield. “I feel like I’m falling apart.”
He leaned down with a smirk, and his kiss was slow, languid, and teasing. I wanted to bite him. After he moved his hips to the side, the lightest brush of his fingers trailed up the inside of my bare thigh. Nuzzling my neck, he murmured, “Don’t damn me, woman. I haven’t let you fall apart yet.”
Cool air hit my moist skin as Caleb pulled my panties to the side. He blocked the breeze by cupping my sex, and I gasped at the feel of his hand against me. As I drew my knee up, I uttered, “Please.”
His lips moved against my throat, and he rubbed torturous circles against me with the softest touch. The man was going to make me beg, and sadly, I wasn’t above it. And just as I opened my mouth to plead, he slid a slow finger inside of me, drawing a shudder from me as I bore down. The moan that came from my throat overshadowed the cicadas and crickets of the night woods. Frantic for more, I slid my hand over his and pulled him into me again.
The shake of his head was unrushed. “No.” Prying my palm away, he pushed it above my head with his free hand and held it there. “Tonight you’re mine, and I’ll go as slow as I like.”
He pressed into me again, and I trembled, desperate for more. Long, languid strokes built pressure I was insane to banish, but still, he held me there, just on the edge. I pulled my hand from his wrist and clenched his shirt, arched back against him until my stomach brushed the fabric of his black, thermal sweater. Caleb hunched in on himself at my touch, letting me see that he wasn’t as in control as he played at. He was hanging by a thread, too, and when he dragged his hungry, inhuman gaze back to mine, I whispered, “I like you.”
Oh, he knew what I meant, and his eyes turned to blazing gold flames. Cursing, he bucked against my hip and dropped his head until his teeth grazed my shoulder. I rocked, and he let me set the pace now. Clutching onto him, digging my nails into his skin through his shirt, three more fast strokes and I shattered, yelling his name as he pressed into me and held.
His chest heaved as he squeezed his eyes closed against whatever urges he was fighting, and it all became so clear.
He said I was his tonight, but now, he was also mine, too.
****
I thought it was Caleb who knocked on my door after our night was through. Who else would be at my place at such an hour? Who else was brave enough to travel my haunted woods at night? He must have forgotten something. His hoodie still clung intimately to my torso, and he probably needed it back. I hummed as I made my way to the door, but my old mangy dog, Brady, growled out his warning just as I reached for the handle. Too late.
“Evenin’, Mira,” Evan drawled as he leaned against the frame of my doorway.
“No,” I said, as if he’d asked a question. “You are not invited in.”
“I’m not a vampire, Mira,” Evan said, shoving his way past me. “That shit doesn’t work on me.”
I scuttled behind the kitchen table and held onto a chair with a steely grip, as if doing so would give me the strength I needed to throw it at Evan if I felt so inclined.
“What are you doing here?” I demanded.
“Pipe down, Crazy Mira. I’m not going to murder you or anything. I came to pass along a little information, is all.”
He leaned across the table, and I backed up, the chair in my hands shuffling loudly against the grain of the wooden floors as I dragged it with me.
“Look, I came here to tell you, you should forget about my brother. Just let him alone.”
“Why would I do that?” I asked shakily.
“Because from the way you look at him, I can tell you care about him. And if you care about him like I think you do, you won’t hold him back.”
I stared at him, completely at a loss to what he was going on about. He may as well have been speaking in pig latin, which I didn’t happen to know the formula for.
Evan growled with impatience. “Look, you crazy skank. If y
ou know anything at all about my brother, you know his job is his life. And he just turned down the chance of a lifetime to work on a big rig as a supervisor because he’s all hung up on staying close to you. He would be the youngest man at that position for fuck’s sake. And that idiot turned it down flat. Your fault, Mira. Fix it.” Evan turned and left the house without another word.
I closed my mouth and wondered abstractedly if it had been hanging open the entire time Evan had lectured me.
“I’m not a crazy skank,” I grumbled as I slunk down into the chair I had used as a barrier the moment before.
Evan’s motivation for bestowing such information on me was unimportant. I didn’t have any doubts that it was for some dark reason, but if what he said was true, I couldn’t let Caleb give up his dreams for me. He had a future. An important one. He was going somewhere while the rest of this sleepy town was frozen in place. I couldn’t rob him of that.
The selfish parts of me argued. He had made his choice. He had come after me. He had scaled that wall at the parade and invited everyone to watch him choose me. I could keep him.
Damn Evan for not telling me at Rooney’s before I gave my heart completely to Caleb in the front seat of his Ford. In a wave of fury, I picked up the ceramic vase that sat idly on the table and threw it against the wall with a tremendous crash. I screamed and put my head in my hands. Why? Why couldn’t I, for once in my entire, miserable existence, have something that made me feel happy? That made me feel safe?
I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, knowing every day I took something from him—something so vital to his happiness. I wanted to give him things, not take them away.
I would never want anyone else. I had chosen to give my heart to the only man it found worthy, and now I would have to rip it away from his protective grasp. It was too late. The damage had been done.
His lips against mine, his secret smile, our dance, his touch. It would have to be enough to last my entire life.
Chapter Nineteen