by Cassie Cross
“I don’t have dopey smiles, okay?” he replies, with yet another dopey smile. He motions to his face, with suds dripping off of his fingers. “This face is incapable of looking dopey.”
“If you say so.” Even though he’s being petulant, I stretch up onto my tiptoes and give him a kiss.
“What was that for?”
“For not setting anything on fire,” I reply, teasing.
“I should not set anything on fire more often.”
“I think that’s a good plan.”
Caleb flicks some sudsy water at me. I let out an accidental squeal, then wipe my face on his shirt.
“Oh,” he says, laughing. “Now you’re in for it.”
Caleb tickles me with wet hands, his fingers trailing their way up my sides. I’m laughing, and squirming my way out of his grip, begging for mercy in no time. He lifts me up and sets me down on the countertop in front of him, settling himself between my legs before he plants his hands on either side of my hips, and leans down for a kiss.
“We hosted our first dinner,” he says, smiling against my lips.
“We did.”
“We should do it more often.”
I brush my nose against his cheek, then kiss him again. I think kissing him is probably one of my favorite things. “We should. You could hone your cooking skills.”
“I could.” Caleb’s fingertips trail along the collar of my shirt, tickling and brushing, just a tease. “Got any other skills you think need honing?” With his hands on my hips, he slides me forward until I’m perched on the edge of the counter. He rocks his hips, creating a little bit of friction in the best place.
I close my eyes, and let out a soft moan. “Nope. I think those skills are honed. Honed, honed, honed.”
“Good to know.”
“Hey,” I say, sliding my fingers through his thick hair, and gently pulling back so I can look him in the eye.
“Yeah?” His eyes are half-lidded and lust-addled, and when he licks his lips, I’m almost done for.
“Do you have a one that got away?”
Caleb sobers almost immediately, and gives his head a little shake. “What?”
It’s something that’s been on my mind since our pre-dinner conversation, when Ben mentioned that this Marisa person was his. “You heard me,” I say, sliding my hand down the side of his neck. “Did you have your own Marisa Blake? Is there a one that got away from you?”
“Mmm. Yes,” he replies. “Almost.”
My stomach falls, but curiosity gets the better of me. “What happened?”
“She left me a note on the counter, telling me she was going to turn herself in to a hitman,” he replies, letting the pad of his thumb skim across my chin.
“Oh,” I reply, feeling a warm, fuzzy relief wash over me. “She sounds pretty amazing.”
“Yeah.” He leans in and kisses me softly. “I think I’ll keep her.”
“She’ll probably let you.”
“She’ll definitely let me when she sees the surprise I have in store for her,” he replies with a wicked grin.
“Oooh.” I reach for the top button of his jeans, and let out a disappointed noise when he steps away.
Caleb walks over to the refrigerator, and pulls out a perfectly folded brown paper bag.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“I made you lunch,” he replies proudly. “For your first day of work.”
My heart does this little swoop right in my chest, and manages to skip a beat in the process. I find myself tearing up, which is a little ridiculous. It’s just lunch. A sandwich, probably, and some cut up vegetables. Maybe that hummus I like. It’s the thought of Caleb planning it out, standing at the counter making something for me that’s just…it’s so sweet I almost can’t stand it.
“Thank you,” I reply. There’s a waver in my voice, and Caleb catches it.
“It’s just a sandwich,” he says, like he’s trying to temper my expectations. Like those expectations ever would’ve included something gourmet.
I hop off the counter, take the bag, and put it back in the refrigerator. Then I loop my arms around his neck, and give him a kiss. “Thank you for the just a sandwich,” I tell him.
“I wanted to make sure you were alert all day, so you’d be ready to come home and celebrate.”
“Oh?” I nip at his chin, because I know how much he likes that. “How are we going to celebrate?”
“I’ve got a few ideas, don’t you worry. C’mon.” He takes my hand, flips off the kitchen light, and leads me back to the bedroom.
“Are we getting started early?”
Caleb laughs. “No,” he says, catching me by surprise as he pins me against the wall, pressing his body against mine. He leans in like he’s going to kiss me, but he’s just out of reach. A slow grin stretches across his lips as he pulls away. Tease. “Let’s go to bed. You need your rest, I want you to have a good day tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I reply, following his lead.
With Caleb, I know all my tomorrows are gonna be good ones.
End.
Read more about Caleb & Mia (and Oliver & Felicity) in Ben & Marisa’s story, Dirty Little Lies. Click here to preorder!
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About the Author
Cassie Cross
Visit my website for the latest news and upcoming releases: www.cassiecross.com
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Cassie Cross is a Maryland native and a romantic at heart, who lives outside of Baltimore with her two dogs and a closet full of shoes. Cassie's fondness for swoon-worthy men and strong women are the inspiration for most of her stories, and when she's not busy writing a book, you’ll probably find her eating takeout and indulging in her love of 80's sitcoms.
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