Last Call (A Place to Call Home Book 3)

by Laura Browning

  She arched her brows.

  "What? Didn't think I could appreciate the finer points of being back in these mountains again?"

  Leah cast a desperate look behind her. "Jonah. We should probably go back downstairs."

  "He's fine for a couple more minutes, playing with his cars and watching TV."

  "He didn't have much opportunity at my parents' house."

  He opened the slider and stepped aside for her to precede him. "That was obvious."

  The view from the deck was incredible. It was also peaceful and undisturbed. Straight through the woods, this wasn't all that far from her parents, but what a world of difference.

  "This must seem tame after living by the beach," she said.

  Caleb stepped out and leaned on the railing. "It's quiet. It gives you time to think. There's always noise at the beach. The roar of the ocean, the gulls crying, the wind blowing, and the constant sounds of people. I can now appreciate what I've got here. What about you?"

  "Me?" Leah smoothed her hand along the wood and gazed at the trees surrounding them. "I've never been anywhere else. Well, I've been to Roanoke once or twice."

  "And how did it compare?"

  "It was noisy. There were so many people." Leah tried not to stare at Caleb. As relaxed as he was right now, he had a magnetic appeal she was far from immune to. That same lightheartedness had attracted her that night at the hotel when she had been looking for escape, but next to him, she had nothing to add to a conversation comparing this area to other places. She would have to have some more experience with that than what she had. Roanoke. She had never been more than a couple hours from where she was born.

  "So you see, you do have an appreciation for just how magical this area is." He touched her hand, startling her into jerking it away from him. Pure reaction to the way she'd been raised, but not meant to be a rejection of him.

  It seemed, however, that was the way Caleb took it. His expression sobered. Now his smile was stilted. "I thought I smelled something delicious as I walked through the kitchen. Did you cook dinner, Leah?"

  She shrugged. "Chicken pie. Nothing fancy."

  His smile widened, but it still was not as open as it had been. "One of my favorites. Why don't we have something to eat? Once we get Jonah in bed, then you and I will have a chance to talk. All right?"

  She nodded before preceding him back downstairs. Of course, the last thing she wanted to do was to sit down and talk. She had no idea what they were doing here or what Caleb even hoped to achieve by having them here. The best course of action for her would be to find a way to get on her feet as soon as possible and move out.

  One thing she did know. Four years had not dulled her attraction to this man. Now they had the complication of a child, which meant there would always be a connection between them, even if it might be the very last thing Caleb Allred wanted.

  Chapter 12

  He was walking on eggshells, glass shards, through a nest of alligators. Caleb ran out of metaphors for how precarious this whole situation felt. In front of him, his gaze was inexorably drawn to the gentle sway of Leah's hips. It would help if he weren't so attracted to her.

  Now he knew Leah Scott and Lee Jones were one in the same, every time he closed his eyes, he remembered the night they'd spent together. She had been tentative to begin with, but as her confidence grew, so did their passion. Would she be the same way now? She was so much prettier without the dark hair and the goo. Leah possessed a refined, pale beauty that looked cool on the surface.

  But he knew different. He vividly recalled the passion hidden beneath her cool beauty.

  It made him want to get past this awkward situation they now found themselves in. They had a chance here to build something. He wasn't sure yet what it would look like, but he was ready. Maybe that was why he'd really decided to make the move home. He shook the thought from his head. Too soon.

  "Did you want to go ahead and eat?" She asked as she stepped into the kitchen.

  "If it's ready."

  "I could make some biscuits," she offered. "It won't take long."

  His mouth watered. Heaven above. If her biscuits were even half as delicious as the pie smelled, he would die from the pleasure. His mama's biscuits had always been his favorite, loaded with butter and... "I believe I could wait for some biscuits."

  When she laughed, he knew his casual tone didn't fool her.

  "Why don't I keep Jonah occupied? Then I'll get him cleaned up and set the table. How does that sound?"

  "Like more help than I've had. Ever."

  As she turned to get busy mixing her biscuit dough, Caleb studied her for an instant. Her comments and her reactions to things pointed to an existence with her parents he hardly dared to think about. On top of everything was the bruise still on her cheek. And the burn on her hand.

  "Hey. Are you going to be able to handle the biscuits with your hand?"

  She glanced at the small bandage. "Yes. It's not a bad burn. It will be fine. Thank you for asking though."

  He stepped back to the edge of the counter instead of going into the living room where he had been headed. "I want us to be clear you are not here to work your butt off as some kind of maid. You're a guest. I want you to make yourself at home, but I don't expect all this." At the expression on her face, he hurried to add. "You've got a job. I've got a business to get going. Don't get me wrong. This is great, but we can take turns with this kind of stuff. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  He watched her for a moment, but she seemed truly okay. Satisfied, Caleb finally tore himself away and stepped into the living room in search of Jonah.

  "Hey, dude. Whatcha doin?" Caleb hunkered down next to him, being careful to go easy.

  Jonah held up a car. Caleb found himself looking into eyes that could be a mirror image of his own. "Cars. You like cars?"

  Caleb grinned. "What self-respecting guy doesn't?"

  Stretching out his long legs next to the little boy, Caleb examined some of his toys. "You've got a pretty decent collection going here. Your mom's making biscuits. Then we're going to eat. Why don't I help you get your toys put away before we wash hands and help set the table?"

  Jonah put all but one car away. When Caleb reached for it, Jonah stuck out his lower lip. Hey, now he looked like Noah. "I keep."

  "Sure. It goes inside your pocket when we're at the table. Deal?"

  Jonah nodded. Caleb held out his hand. After a moment, the boy took it and Caleb led the way to the downstairs half-bath. Although he was used to a whole slew of nieces and nephews, having Jonah's tiny fingers curled around his made Caleb's chest ache.

  He had missed so many firsts, one of the things he needed to get to the bottom of with Leah, but he had no intention of missing any more of them. They had to find a way to make things work between them for their sake as well as Jonah's.

  When they got back to kitchen, Leah was cutting out biscuits and placing them on a baking sheet. The light from the setting sun caught the shine in her hair, giving it a kind of halo effect. Wow. Wasn't he suddenly poetic?

  While she continued to work, he handed Jonah the spoons to carry to the table, and he grabbed the rest of the silverware.

  "Do you want a bowl or a plate for him?" Caleb reached up into the cabinet.

  "He can handle a small plate just fine."

  Caleb eyed the table. "I don't have a car seat or a high chair."

  She slipped the biscuits into the oven. "He can make do for tonight if we put him in one of the chairs with the arms on it and scoot it close to the table."

  They continued to work together, getting drinks poured and everything else ready. All that remained were the biscuits, and the smell was making Caleb's stomach growl. Damn, he was starving.

  The conversation petered out once they were all seated. Caleb supposed it was to be expected since they didn't really know much about each other, but it felt awkward. Where were his much-vaunted abilities as a bartender now? Wasn't that one of the prerequisites—being ab
le to talk to anyone?

  His first taste of her chicken pie drew a moan of delight from him. "This is heavenly. Holy cow. You could market and sell this thing."

  Leah smiled a bit lopsidedly. "It's nothing special. Chicken pie was one of the first things my mama taught me to make. That and biscuits."

  Caleb buttered one of the steaming rolls and shoved it in his mouth. Holy cow. Again. He'd never imagined the day he would taste a biscuit better than what his mama made, but this melted in his mouth along with the butter. After swallowing, he said, "Well, you obviously learned well."

  As he ate, he watched Leah and Jonah. The little boy ate carefully, every once in a while casting a glance Caleb's way as if to gauge his reactions. It made Caleb sad, especially when he remembered how loud and boisterous the dinner table at his house had been when he was a kid. It certainly hadn't been chaos, but there had always been plenty of laughter. By the end of the meal, the toddler was beginning to droop. It had been a long couple of days for him.

  "If you want to go ahead and give him a bath and get him ready for bed, I'll clean up the kitchen."

  "I can do it." She seemed intent on trying to reassure him.

  Caleb shook his head. "Like I've said before, you're not here to wait on me. We'll share the work."

  Leah glanced at Jonah, who was beginning to nod off in his chair. "All right. Thank you."

  He decided to give them both the time and space tonight to settle in, but Caleb wanted to be a part of the nightly ritual of getting ready for bed. Did she tell him a story or sing to him? Caleb grabbed the plates, scraped the waste into the garbage and then put them in the sink. Since there weren't many dishes, he washed them by hand.

  He had just finished wiping the counters and the stove when Leah returned.

  "He's asleep?"

  "Out like a light. This has been exhausting for him."

  For her too, but as much as he might be able to empathize, he wanted answers. The longer they put off talking about what had happened, the more awkward their discussion would become. Hell, it was already awkward enough.

  "Would you like a cup of coffee?"

  She shook her head, but watched with interest while he made a cup in the single serve brewer sitting on his counter. He slid her a glance. "You've never used one of these?"

  She chuckled. "Hardly. Mama was still using a percolator on the stove."

  He picked the mug up in one hand. "Not very economical, but convenient when all you want is one cup and you hate warmed over coffee."

  Leah ran her hand along the polished granite counter. "Is it time to talk?"

  "Yeah. You want to talk in here or in the living room?"

  "I'd rather not do it at all." Her expression and gestures all spoke of her reluctance, but Caleb wasn't going to be put off. They needed to clear the air so they could move forward, find a way to be a family or come to an agreement to provide him a role in his son's life.

  "That option's not on the table. If you were anyone else or Jonah was anyone else, the first discussion we would be having is determining who his father is." Caleb held up his hand as she started to bristle. "But since he's a carbon copy of almost every male in my family, I don't think we need to do that."

  "How generous of you." The bite to her tone surprised him.

  Caleb leaned back against the counter and sipped his coffee as he studied her. Pale and washed out she might be. However, beneath an exterior which appeared no more substantial than a leaf in the wind, he had the feeling lay a core as strong as steel.

  "Care to explain the tone?"

  She began pacing. "Where do you get off acting like this is the very first you've heard of Jonah?"

  That wasn't what he'd expected. Sensing there was a lot more he could uncover if he just held onto his temper, he said, "The first time I realized he was mine was when I saw my name on that birth certificate. If there's more I'm supposed to know, then you're going to have to explain it to me."

  She folded her arms across her chest. "I tried contacting you as soon as I found out for sure that I was pregnant."

  "You must not have tried very hard." He regretted his sarcasm as soon as it left his mouth.

  When her eyes darkened, Caleb held up his hand in a staying motion. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for."

  "Yes. It was. You make it sound like I'm either lying or made some half-hearted attempt and then said forget it."

  "So why don't you tell me what happened, and I'll try to keep my mouth shut so you can."

  "Like I said, I found out I was pregnant. You had mentioned where you lived and the place you owned at the beach, so I searched online at the library and found the address."

  "You mailed it?"

  "Them. I mailed them."

  "You sent more than one letter?"

  "Yes." She ran her fingers through her short hair, looking exasperated. "I don't remember how many. I was sick a lot carrying Jonah."

  Caleb set the mug aside. "I never received any letters."

  She stuck her chin out. "And I never got any returned mail."

  He blew out a breath in frustration. "I'm not accusing you of anything."

  "Well pardon me if it sounds that way."

  "I don't want to argue, Leah, I'm just trying to get a handle on this. Put yourself in my shoes for a minute. I've just found out I have a son and I've missed the first three years of his fucking life!"

  She stared at him, gray eyes chilly. "Put yourself in my shoes, Caleb. I was pregnant and unmarried living with parents who, if they thought they could have gotten away with it, would probably have stoned me to death. I've spent three years raising an asthmatic son on my own and diverting my abusive father's anger away from our son. I didn't see that I had much choice because the letters and phone calls, yes phone calls, to his father were ignored."

  "Calls? That's the first time you've mentioned trying to phone me. All I can say, Leah, is that I was in the same place for the last three years. Seems to me you must not have tried too damn hard to find me."

  Her face was white, her jaw clenched. "You know what. Believe what you want. We can work out arrangements so that Jonah doesn't suffer, but as soon as I can get back on my feet, we're outta here."

  She stomped away from him before he could say anything else. Caleb ground his molars but held his tongue. He'd let his anger get the better of him when he swore he wouldn't do that. They had accomplished nothing constructive, and a whole lot that was going to set them back.

  He hadn't even told her that his family was planning to visit. Tomorrow.

  Chapter 13

  Everything was supposed to look better in the morning. At least Leah thought she'd read that somewhere. To be fair, Jonah looked rested and healthier as he still slept like a log in the middle of the bed. She turned her gaze back to the view outside. Even through the glass, she heard birds singing.

  It was everyone's perfect picture of life in the Blue Ridge.

  Except she was in a strange house, with a strange man. Caleb wasn't the boy she remembered, nor the fantasy man she'd latched onto for a one night stand to scratch her itch. She needed to know more about him. Even if the two of them couldn't be friends, she had to forge some sort of relationship for Jonah's sake. Her son deserved a father.

  If she knew nothing else about Caleb and his family, they were decent people. They would be a family for Jonah. All she had to do was swallow her pride. Again. Hadn't she been doing that her entire life? Her whole life had been spent hiding who she was and what she wanted from life just so she could survive.

  All she had to do was keep that façade going for a while longer. What were a few more lies in the grander scheme of things if it helped Jonah? Leah pushed away the niggling reminder from her conscience that she was going to only tell the truth from now on. First and foremost, she had to do whatever it took to make sure Jonah had a better childhood than hers.

  After ensuring he was still sound asleep, Leah stepped into the bathroom that connected the two guestrooms. Smal
ler though it was than Caleb's master bath, it was luxurious in comparison to the worn out house she'd come from. Leah ran her fingers along the granite counter and met her gaze in the mirror.

  Her hair stood on end, her skin was pale, and her eyes struck him as too big for her face. She stripped off the T-shirt she'd worn to bed and evaluated her reflection. Small boobs, skinny arms and legs, and nearly non-existent hips. She'd lost weight since that night so long ago. Caleb had seemed to find her attractive then, but she doubted he would now.

  Leah hunched her shoulders and turned away so she could start the shower. She wasn't out to attract him. Didn't want to. She had other things to focus on.

  By the time she'd finished showering and dressing in worn jeans and a Mountain Plants polo shirt, Jonah was beginning to stir. She loved watching him wake up, especially when he was healthy like now. His little cheeks were rounded and flushed from sleep, his dark green eyes wide and surrounded by thick, dark lashes that she had only ever been able to dream about.

  "Good morning, sleepyhead." Leah leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "How's my favorite boy this morning?"

  "Hungry!" He giggled and rolled out of bed. He grabbed his favorite car off the nightstand. "Breakfast?"

  She shook her head. "Bathroom."

  He stuck out his lip but marched to the door. Although he still had a few oopsies, he was all but potty trained. She boosted him up so he could wash his hands and then led the way down to the kitchen. Jonah stepped into the room and gazed around as if he were searching for something.

  "Calup?"

  He'd picked up on that pretty quickly. Leah glanced around the kitchen. There was a full pot of coffee in the coffeemaker and a note next to it.

  "I bet this piece of paper will tell me where he is." Yet another thing to like about him. He was considerate. Knowing they were in a strange place, he was doing his very best to make sure they didn't feel insecure, even after their argument last night. She read the note.