“I always have a good time with you little brother,” Sam ruffled Caleb’s perfectly lacquered hair, deliberately squashing the rock star ‘ruffled fresh from bed’ style that Caleb had spent hours perfecting earlier that night. “But we can’t all be irresponsible rockstars now can we, Callie?” Sam used the childhood nickname he knew Caleb detested so much, knowing it would get a rise out of him. “Some of us actually have to work to earn a living!” It was the same banter that always existed between them, the ribbing and poking fun that was laced with the love that comes from being part of a family.
“Work?!” snorted Caleb, “Ha! As if! You’re a partner in a law firm Sammy, how much work can you possibly do? Don’t you have a staff of people all waiting to jump to your command?” Caleb’s raucous laugh mingled with Sam’s deep chortle.
“Staff? That’s your department brother dear, how many do you have now? Eighteen? Ninete-”
“Watch out!” Caleb’s panicked shout interrupts Sam, and he blinks once, surprise etching his features. The unrelenting screech of bare metal tyre rims on bitumen reaches a crescendo before fading into silence, the world turning black.
Caleb moaned softly, pain radiating from his shoulder. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, then opened them, blinking rapidly until the interior of the car stopped swirling in front of him. He turned his head slightly, eyes searching in the half-light for Sam. Where was he? Opening his door with momentous effort, Caleb hauled himself into an upright position, ignoring the trickle of blood running down his face, waving away the concerned faces hovering in front of his. He looked around, why was everyone moving so slowly? Gabby was standing at the edge of the road, watching him, smiling in expectation. Lucia and Sofia stood next to her, waving at him. What were they doing here? Where was Sam?
Caleb turned towards the small crowd that had gathered in the middle of the road, a short distance behind the car. Everyone was out of focus, nothing made sense. Did someone drug him in the club? Sam should be here. He looked down, his hands were covered in blood, so much blood. He blinked, looked down at the road, saw Sam’s sneakers sticking out from the crowd gathered. Funny, Caleb didn’t remember moving. The crowd parted, Sam laid on the road, hands linked behind his head, boyish smile etched on to his face.
“Sam, what are you doing, this is a road, you can’t stay here, we’ll be late.”
“Look at the stars little brother,” Sam flicked his hand in the direction of the night sky. “You’re a star, you know that right? You’re translucendal Cal, translucendal.” Sam drew the last word out, slowly enunciating every single syllable.
“What are you talking about,” Caleb’s voice sounded so far away, even to his own ears. “That not even a word Sam, you just made it up.”
“I’m pretty sure it’s a word little brother, and if not, it should be.” Sam smiled up at Caleb. “It’s what you are, Caleb, don’t forget that. Translucendal.”
“Sam, enough,” Caleb frowned, consternation etching his features. “Why are you lying here? What are we doing, come on, we need to go.”
“Cal.” Sam only called him that when he was being serious, which was a rare thing. “We are already here.”
“What are you talking about, you’re not making any sense.”
“Don’t you remember Cal? You killed me. You ran us off the road with your incessant chatter about your own self-importance. I died Cal, a slow and painful death, because you had to be a star”.
Caleb sat bolt upright, drenched in sweat. Great, the nightmares again. He padded across to the ensuite and flicked on the light, catching sight of himself in the mirror. With a grimace he rubbed his hand over his tired face. He looked like hell. Worse than that, he felt like hell. The nightmares plagued him, daylight offered no relief, the images on a constant loop in his head. He wondered, as he did in every moment of the day, if nightmare Sam was right. Was he too wrapped up in his own self-importance? Not that it mattered anymore, nothing mattered anymore. He just needed to get through the next two weeks, that was all, after that, he was sure he would be fine. Maybe.
Treading carefully, Caleb silently made his way down the hallway, feeling rather like a teenager sneaking home past curfew, hoping not to wake anyone. He reached the bottom step and was just crossing to the front door when a hand snaked out and touched his forearm, nearly sending him through the roof.
“What the hell?!” Caleb all but screeched, voice a couple of octaves higher than usual. Smooth, real smooth, he thought to himself with disgust.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” The teasing glint in her eyes said something else. “There are warm cinnamon scrolls on the kitchen bench if you wanted some before you go out.” Gabby opened the front door, paused, turned, and grinned. “And just so you know, the back stairs are much better for sneaking out, they squeak less.”
“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” Sprung! “What about you, do you make it a habit of baking cinnamon scrolls in the middle of the night?”
“It’s three o’clock in the morning Caleb, hardly the middle of the night, and yes actually. I am usually up by two o’clock most mornings, once I finish the pastries for the house, I head over to the bakery to start prep for the day. What’s your excuse?”
“Bad dream,” Caleb muttered, shuffling his feet back and forth.
“I’m sorry,” Gabby fixed him with a hard stare. “I know how they can haunt a person. My father...Well, anyway, I better go, have fun on your adventures today.”
“Wait, can I come with you?” The words were out before he had a chance to think his request through, he wanted to kick himself. What on earth had he been thinking, asking to go with her? To where? Work of all places. To do what, watch her? Good grief, he must really be desperate for some human interaction, either that or he was still dreaming. She was watching him now, eyebrows knitted together, perplexed look on her face.
“Um, sure, if you want to, but I must warn you, it’s not terribly exciting.” She gave him an out, he should have taken it. Instead, his mouth opened, surprising them both with his reply.
“Lead the way.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“So, this is it, the famous bakery.” Caleb smiled as he looked around, it was pretty much as he had imagined it would look, tastefully decorated as if it was an extension of the Bianchi house.
“This is it. Come on, I’ll show you what needs to happen.” Caleb followed her through to the kitchen, a spacious stainless-steel affair, stopping when she pointed something out to him. “This is today’s list.”
“You do all this? Who helps you?” There had to be fifty items on her list.
“We don’t employ anyone else, I do the baking, selling, cleaning, whatever needs doing. Mum and dad watch the girls during the day if it is school holidays, otherwise they come here after school and help out”.
“That seems like a lot of work for just one person,” Caleb frowned. “Why don’t you employ a staff? It would make life a lot easier for you, and you would get more time with the girls too, which I am guessing you would like.”
“Mister Roman,” uh oh, he knew that tone all too well, she was angry with him. “I brought you here today because you asked to come. As a guest in my parents bed and breakfast, I didn’t see any harm in you seeing how our Italian bakery operates, it supplies half the town, and the methods we use are old school traditional. However, please do not think that by bringing you here, you have the right to question how I run this bakery. Because you do not!” Her eyes flashed a warning, a crimson flush creeping up her neck.
“I’m sorry”, Caleb had the grace to look chagrined. “That was rude, forgive me. I know it’s no excuse, it is just that, well...I have staff.” Caleb shrugged. “To be honest I never really thought about it until recently, but they make my life easier in so many ways. I just wondered...” He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“We can’t afford to hire anyone, let’s leave it at that.”
Caleb felt bad. After their earlier argument, Gabby had been frosty with hi
m. It was nothing less than he deserved, he knew that, still, he felt bad. He had tried to make amends by attempting to make them both a strong coffee from the space age barista machine on the front counter, but after somehow exploding a stream of steaming hot milk from the top of the frother, volcano style, Gabby had asked him to simply grab some juice from the fridge. At least that was something he could manage without disaster.
“Can I help you with that?” He didn’t miss the wary look she gave him over the mixer, hastening to add, “I mean, ah, if you show me how, I would love to learn how to do that.”
“Have you ever actually baked before Caleb?”
“Mum never used to like us kids in the kitchen,” he admitted sheepishly, earning an eyebrow quirk from Gabby.
“I wonder why?”” She teased dryly, before a soft sigh escaped her lips. “Sure, why not,” a shoulder shrug. “What could go wrong?” Caleb hoped that was a rhetorical question.
The bakery looked as if a bomb had gone off, which, to be honest, wasn’t very far from the truth, Gabby thought wryly to herself. There was flour from one end of the kitchen to the other, she had eggshell in her hair, and, there was a very distinct blob of chocolate mousse on the ceiling. Urgh, it was going to be a very long day. How was it possible for someone to be so very bad in the kitchen? Caleb, she decided, was a walking disaster. She could only imagine what life had been like for his poor mother, no wonder she refused to let him into the kitchen.
“If my mum could see me now, she would die from the shock,” Caleb joked, proudly admiring the rather sad looking cupcake sitting in front of him. “It’s not too bad for a first effort, is it?” Pride laced with vulnerability had always been Gabby’s weakness and she crossed to him, slinging her arm loosely across his back, squeezing lightly.
“No, Caleb, for a first effort, it is pretty impressive.” She was stopped from saying anything else by the gentle tapping on the front glass door.
“Mrs Porter, good morning, come on in.”
“Gabby, thank you dear, I know you aren’t actually open yet, but I saw the light on in the front and thought I would, oh!” She stopped, spying Caleb. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you had company, I can come back later.”
“Mrs Porter, this is Caleb, a house guest at the bed and breakfast.”
“Caleb, gosh, you’re quite handsome, aren’t you? He reminds me of those rock stars you see on the TV nowadays.” Caleb blushed uncomfortably. It would be just his luck, to be recognised in a small town by this old lady.
“Mrs Porter?” Gabby pushed gently.
“Hmm, oh yes dear, of course. It’s Bert, he was up again last night, I thought perhaps one of your custard pies might cheer him up a bit.”
“Of course, I’ll bag one up, and your usual bread?” Gabby led Mrs Porter out to the counter, voices fading away. Gabby’s warm laugh, the tinkling of the bell over the door signifying Mrs Porter’s departure, the scratching of a chair on the tiles next to him.
“Come on chef, we open in an hour, let’s get this mess cleaned up.”
“Now that,” he grinned at her, “is something I excel at. Here,” he pushed her towards the kitchen stool, “you sit, I will clean.”
“Done.” It was nice, Gabby decided, watching someone else do the cleaning for a change, especially when that someone else was as good looking as Caleb was. Yummy! Her tongue darted out across her lips, subconsciously, longingly. He was an enigma, a puzzle to be solved. He was obviously wealthy, she wasn’t an idiot, that car he drove had to be worth hundreds of thousands of dollars. Plus, he said he had staff, and yet, he knew how to clean, thoroughly, professionally.
“What is it?” Caleb turned, feeling eyes on the back of his head, surprising Gabby mid appraisal.
“I was, ah, just trying to figure you out, that’s all.” A blush, interesting. Perhaps there was a chance rule number three, no overnight guests, would be needed after all.
“Don’t try too hard.”
“Is that an order?” She tried to make light of the suddenly dark tone of Caleb’s voice.
“Consider it a warning, that’s all.”
“Better the devil I know, and all that?”
“Exactly.” Caleb nodded his agreeance.
“Are you the devil Caleb?” The softness of her voice floated around him, fogging his brain, clouding his judgement. Dropping the cloth he was using, he was by her side in two strides, arms resting on the counter either side of her, trapping her. His face was dangerously close to hers; he saw her pupils dilate, felt her breath hitch. Her scent enveloped him, he was in trouble, he knew that, and yet...He just could not resist the pull, had to know what her lips felt like on his, how they tasted. He closed the gap between them painstakingly slowly, giving her every chance to change her mind, silently willing her to do so.
“Would you like me to be?”
He captured her mouth in a single move, felt her moan beneath him as she melted into him. The tip of his tongue pressed against her lips, seeking admission, rejoicing when she gave it willingly, sighing against him. His hand snaked through her hair, angling her head to deepen their kiss. He was drowning in her, lost in a sea of vanilla and nutmeg, no longer sure of where he ended, and she began. Needing, aching, to be closer, he gripped her waist, lifting her onto the bench. Her slender legs wound around his waist instinctively, urging him closer, her hands tangled in his hair. He could feel the roundness of her curves against his chest, sliding a hand up the arch of her back and around to cup her breast. He weighed it in his hand, pinching at the nipple through the fabric of her dress, earning a cry of pleasure as it pebbled beneath his touch.
“Caleb,” she broke their kiss, gasping his name. “Oh yes, yes, please,” she guided his mouth to her breast, “don’t stop. Please.” It was the pleading that pulled him up short.
He should have known better than to kiss her, that kiss weakened him everywhere. His shaky breath, the hardness of his arousal. God, he wanted her, wanted to bury himself deep inside her softness, to taste her, to discover what would make her scream his name. He ached to be the reason that she came undone, but he wouldn’t be. He would not, could not, do that to her, not when he was only staying for two weeks, and had nothing to offer beyond that. He saw the confusion in her eyes, the unasked questions, the embarrassment.
“Gabby,” his voice husky with desire, “I can’t, I’m sorry.” He pushed himself away from the bench, taking her with him, steadying her before letting go completely. “It’s not that I don’t want to, believe me, I want to,” he gestured to the bulge in his trousers, evidence of just how much he wanted her. “I just can’t. Not here, not like this.” He lifted her chin, fixing her with a devilish smile. “When I take you to bed Gabby, and it will happen, I promise, it won’t be here, where someone could interrupt us. When I make love to you, I intend to take my time, for both of us.”
Gabby’s head spun. What on earth had she been thinking, kissing Caleb? Kissing anyone for that matter. Stupid, stupid, stupid! That’s what she had been, stupid, especially after Michael. She was angry with herself, she thought she had learnt her lesson, thought she had become smarter. She touched her lips gently, swollen with want. She still wanted him, Caleb, she could still feel his mouth on hers, the realisation confusing her. Thank heavens her mother hadn’t been here to witness her moment of weakness; it would have been just one more disappointment in a long line of disappointing daughter moments that she relished pulling out and using to her advantage whenever it suited her. Despite their shared kiss, or maybe because of it, Gabby was acutely aware of Caleb’s every move throughout the day. The way he spoke to the customers, including them and listening to them as if they were old friends, warmed her heart. Michael never did that. actually, Michael had only ever set foot in the bakery when he had no other choice, thinking it beneath him, all the manual labour and shop keeping.
Gabby shook her head to clear the cobwebs of the ghosts that had long resided there. Michael was another lifetime ago, there was no use in
rehashing the past, or in hoping for anything for the future. She needed to focus on the present, that was all. She would not let anyone turn her head again, especially not someone who wouldn’t be here in three weeks. No, she had learnt the hard way, the only person to depend on was herself. This attraction to Caleb was just lust, that was all. Nothing more than that. She would easily forget all about him, she was a Bianchi for heaven’s sake, she had willpower by the bucketful. She just had to find it.
CHAPTER SIX
The rest of the afternoon passed slowly, Gabby felt as if she were swimming through treacle, her limbs were heavy, sluggish. Every fibre of her being was acutely aware of Caleb, as if she had been placed into some sort of trance, unable to form coherent thoughts anymore, her brain a mess of cotton wool. He, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, not a hair out of place. How can he be so collected while she is a dithering mess? Maybe he makes it a habit of his, kissing girls senseless, Gabby’s inner critic baited her. He didn’t look like that type of man though, and when he had kissed her, he seemed almost unsure of himself, as if he hadn’t kissed anyone in a long time. Gabby frowned, why was she defending him, even to herself? It made no difference to her, she had no intention of getting involved with him, she shrugged slightly, none at all.
Closing time could not come soon enough, as Gabby flipped the door sign from open to close, she honestly could not wait to get home and have a glass of Chianti Classico.
“Well, I bet you got more than you bargained for today Caleb,” the words were out before she could stop them, a deep blush creeping up her neck and fanning across her face. “I mean, with the offer of helping out. We were busier than usual, probably because the camel races are on in a few days,” she mused.
“It was my pleasure,” he chuckled softly, “oh, and Gabby,” he turned from the bench he was wiping down to look at her fully, “I meant what I said, next time, there will be no interruptions,” a slow smile curled across Caleb’s face, his gaze travelled lazily down Gabby’s body before returning to her face. “That I can promise you.”
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