“Hey!” Sandra yelled as the ceramic vase shattered into pieces.
The soil and plant it had contained burst out, soiling the floor. We all looked to Bradley in shock, but even more stunning was the black look of fury on his face.
He was glaring furiously at Caleb!
What the hell was going on? A strange fear slithered down my spine. Whenever I saw a man lose his temper something happened inside me. I felt like running away and hiding somewhere dark and small, like a closet.
Bradley turned to look at me with hurt eyes, then he stormed out of the shop. Caleb watched him leave without a word before he turned to me. “Is that your delivery guy?”
I was also taken aback by Caleb’s tone. I stared at him in shock. He almost seemed like a completely different person. Everything about him was changed. His demeanor, his voice, the tension in his body, the color of his eyes.
“Yeah, he is,” I replied, confused and shocked.
“Do you know him well?”
“Yeah I do.”
Sandra clicked her tongue. “Don’t mind him, Caleb. He’s just a little upset. We’ve known him for a couple of years now and in that time he’s always had his sights set on Willow. But she’s never really been open towards him. I guess seeing how you two are now, he got a bit um … disappointed. He’ll get over it. I’ll get you another plant.”
I turned to Sandra in shock. “What?”
She jerked her head in my direction. “You mean you didn’t know?”
“No, he’s not interested in me,” I denied. “He likes you. He told me himself.”
“Bullshit. He has no interest in me at all. We’re just friends. It’s you he’s had his eye on, but you were too blind to see.”
I shook my head. I felt ashamed. All this time I had leaned on him for support and he had been nursing this huge crush on me, and I never even suspected.
Sandra turned to Caleb. “Look, don’t worry about it. It was just a little tantrum, but he’s harmless. And he’ll get over it.”
I looked at Caleb. He was staring at me, his eyes veiled. I couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I guess you should get going,” I whispered.
“Yes, I should. I’ll call you,” he said, and walked to the door.
“Oooo, do I smell burritos?” Sandra asked from behind me.
“Yeah. Caleb and I didn’t get a chance to eat them,” I replied automatically, even though I felt dazed and shocked by everything that had happened.
“Can I have his then?” she asked.
I turned around to face her. “Yeah, go ahead. Sandra, why didn’t you tell me about Bradley?”
She shrugged and moved towards the bag of food. “Two reasons. First, I thought you knew. Second, he’s not right for you.”
“I feel so stupid and guilty. All this time I thought he was into you.”
“Listen, it’s not your fault he didn’t have the guts to tell you from day one he was interested in you. If I were you, I would be happy this happened because finally it’s all out in the open and he can move on. I’ve been hurt by guys loads of times and look at me. I’m stronger and better for it. Now come and eat with me.”
I moved towards her even though my appetite was completely gone.
30
Caleb
It was Friday, and Willow had agreed to a date at my place. She had initially suggested a take-out at the office, but I’d practically lived at the office for the last week and I needed a bit of downtime.
I had a lavish home in the hills that hardly ever saw me. I would have opted for a condo in the city center, or preferably even in my office’s neighborhood, but the house was in a gated community with considerably more security. And security was a good thing.
The downside was, after my tiny cell, the house made me feel quite irresponsibly extravagant. Especially since I had no one to share it with. Yet.
“Wow!” she exclaimed, her eyes large with wonder, when I opened the door. “I knew this area was exclusive, but this is the biggest house in the complex.”
“So you like it?” I asked, with a smile, as my eyes ran over her. She looked especially delectable today in a sun dress, and with her hair pulled into a messy bun. I couldn’t wait to wrench it free into the cascade that made her look nothing short of a living goddess.
“What’s not to like?”
I laughed and catching her hand, pulled her into our home. She just didn’t know it yet.
With a hand to the side of my face, she buried her face in my neck for a moment as though to breathe me in, before placing a quick kiss on my lips and slipping out of my grasp.
As she walked away all I could do was stare after her. I didn’t know how long I could keep the knowledge to myself about the absolute hold this woman had over me. I wanted so badly for her to know she was irreplaceable to me, that my happiness was in her hands.
She took a good look around at the neutral shades in the expansive living room that an interior decorator Marie knew had selected. Then we went out through the French doors towards the pool and spa. She stood for a moment looking down at the view of Sacramento, Folsom Lake, and even the Sutter Buttes.
She turned to me. “This is breathtaking. You brought me here to show off, didn’t you?”
I smiled. “Actually, I invited you over to take advantage of you.”
“Well there is that.” she laughed.
The joyful sound filtered into the house. This was what I had wanted, what this house lacked. For her sounds to wake the house with vibrancy and spirit.
She came into the house and I tried to control my intense expression, so that it wouldn’t scare her away. To her, things must seem to be moving too fast between us, while for me it was twelve years too slow. Things were touchy in other ways too, and I couldn’t wait till they weren’t.
“Want something to drink?” I asked casually.
“Sure.” Her voice was equally casual.
I walked over to the kitchen and she followed me. I pulled the refrigerator open and removed the pitcher of water my housekeeper had prepared for me. It contained refreshing slices of lemon and kiwi in it. During one of our conversations, Willow had told me how much she liked fruit infusions, and I took note of it.
“Did you prepare that for me?” she asked as she took her seat on one of the stools at the island’s counter.
“My housekeeper did,” I said as I poured her a tall glass, and slid it over.
She accepted the glass and drained it in an instant. “You took classes on how to make a girl fall in love with you, didn’t you?”
I grinned at her. “Are you falling in love with me?”
“Answer the question. You have, haven’t you? Tell the truth. Otherwise, how the hell do you know to be so attentive to a woman?”
“Maybe it’s because I’m crazy about you,” I said softly.
For a moment I thought she was going to be serious with me, but she shook herself and laughed again. “Or maybe you’ve been married, or at least been in a long relationship. You failed at being attentive in the past and now you’re making sure you don’t make the same mistakes with me. I’m not complaining, but I’d like to know if that’s the case.”
I took a sip from my glass as I watched her curiously. She had been just like this in the past, chatty and making up entire stories in her mind. Of course, I had been an all too willing audience.
I placed my glass on the marble counter, and locked my gaze on hers. “I’ve never been married, or been in a committed relationship either.”
She narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “Sandra says you might have a secret family in New York, and you’re here to get away from a nasty divorce.”
My eyes widened with surprise.
Her hands shot up in defense. “You can’t blame us for trying to figure you out. You’re a mystery. How can you be so great in bed, be that good looking, that successful, that attentive, and yet still be single? It doesn’t make any sense.”
A memory of her as a young girl popp
ed into my mind. She had walked in the rain to my house. ‘What are you doing?’ I had asked, shocked to see her soaked to the skin. ‘I brought you this,’ she replied holding out a bunch of wild flowers. ‘I had already picked them for you and it didn’t make any sense not to bring them over.’
“She’s right, isn’t she?” Willow demanded, pulling me out of the memory of that rainy day. That was the first time I kissed her.
I cleared my throat. “You’re beautiful, and you’re considerably great in bed too. Why are you single?”
Her mouth fell open for a couple of seconds as she probably struggled to decide on what part of my comment to respond to first. Eventually, her finger went up in the air. “First of all, I’m twenty-three so it’s quite normal that I am still single, and secondly, I’m considerably great in bed? I should be offended at that, but I think this is the first time you have teased me so I’m honestly more affected by the discovery that you have a humorous bone in your body. I thought you were just calm and serious and not much fun.”
I laughed again. “You didn’t complain about me not being much fun when I was inside you.”
“Oh, and now you’re out-right bragging too. I’m not sure I like this side of you.”
I headed over to the counter, lifted myself onto its surface and studied her. She was so beautiful when she glared at me like that.
“Are you smiling so sexily now because you think it’s going to placate me?”
“Is it working?” I mocked.
She paused. “Yes, God freaking damn it.”
I laughed out loud then and she looked stunned. The laughter died in my throat. “What?”
“I’ve never heard you laugh like that. You’re always so guarded. Come to think of it, you’re completely different today. Is it because we’re in your home? Are you more comfortable here?”
“You could say that.” I nodded.
Her eyes softened. “All your life you’ve had to act stable and unfaltering on the outside, haven’t you? I know the feeling.”
“How so?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No. You have to tell me deeper things about yourself first.”
“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. But first I need to know what you want to have for dinner. I’ll talk as I cook.”
“You know how to cook?”
31
Caleb
I thought back to all the prison noodle meals I had managed to put together due to my skills with an electrical outlet, clippers, and the guts to drop a live wire into a cup of water. And then there was the years living with my dysfunctional parents, of course. I’d learned how to survive on pasta made with butter and tomato puree.
Today however, I had all the ingredients that I could possibly need to make it a great treat for her.
“I do,” I replied. “Is spaghetti okay with you?”
“I’m not okay with spaghetti, I love it.”
I grinned. “Good.”
“Did you learn how to cook from your mom?”
I was silent as the dark memory came to mind. “No.”
The sound of my voice was like the shutting of a door and her face fell. To build the kind of intimacy I wanted with Willow, I couldn’t hold back any part of myself from her.
“She was an alcoholic,” I said softly. “My stepdad drove her to it, with his cheating, and his problems with substance abuse.”
To give her time to process it I jumped off the counter and set about putting a pot of water on the stove to boil.
She appeared by my side and slipped her hand through mine. “I’m really sorry, Caleb,” she said softly.
“It’s okay. I haven’t seen her in a very long time.”
“What do you need me to chop up for you?”
“Do you like spring onions?” I asked and she nodded with a smile.
I retrieved them from the fridge along with a bunch of bell peppers, carrots, mushrooms, and the ground beef we would need. She began to rinse them in the sink.
“Do you like shrimp?”
“I do,” she said, amused. “But that’s already a lot of meat. You want to add shrimp too?”
“I want to make sure you have a great meal.”
She rose on the tip of her toes to nibble lightly on the tip of my nose, and I couldn’t believe the audacity. I hadn’t completely got used to someone being so liberal with me and my body. I enjoyed every moment of it though. When we were younger and my hair was much longer she used to pull out her hair ties and use them to style my hair. When she was finished, she used to lean back and say, “You’re too beautiful to be a boy, Caleb.” My hair was much shorter now, but I wanted her to be as mischievous with me as she had been then.
“When did you last speak to your mom?” she asked, as she picked up a knife and began to chop the vegetables.
I thought of my mother swinging her fist into my face. “It was a long, long time ago.”
“Do you ever plan on seeing her again?”
“Can’t. She’s dead.”
A heavy silence filled the room, and I sensed she regretted her line of questioning. “I’m sorry,” she apologized in a small and breathy voice.
I went to her, encircled her waist with my arms, and pressed my body into hers. “There’s no need to be. It was a long time ago.” Then I pressed a kiss against her cheek. She turned in my arms. “Are we going to cook or fuck?”
I laughed. “Fuck?”
“That’s the wrong answer, my boy. Back to your station now.”
I walked away from her towards the fridge.
“You know, I told you I lost my parents,” she began.
I sensed her turn to glance at me, but I wasn’t prepared to meet her gaze and act like I had no clue of what she was about to tell me.
“I also lost some of my memories,” she continued. “I woke up one day in a hospital in Bitter Creek, and two years of my life, from a couple of days before my parents died, was gone. I haven’t been able to recall any of it since.”
I felt myself tense as I turned to her. I couldn’t feign surprise. That kind of audacity to pretend just wasn’t in me and every cell in my body rejected the idea of lying to her, so I made sure that my gaze on her was soft and consoling.
“You don’t seem surprised,” she said, her head tilting to one side.
“It’s a very unusual story. What happened?”
She returned to her task. “Apparently, after my parents died, I was sent to live with my uncle in Bitter Creek. He was the priest of the Catholic parish there. But then something happened one day, and the church was burned down, he was murdered, and I was found unconscious on the street not far from the house. They think I was running away from the scene when I fell and hit my head. They were hoping I could tell them something, but when I woke I couldn’t remember a thing, and it’s been that way ever since.”
My heart was pounding so violently I was sure that she could hear it. I forced myself to keep my tone as neutral as possible when I asked, “Did you ever find out what caused the fire?”
“It was a teenage delinquent from my school.” she said with a shake of her head. “Maybe he was trying to rob the house, and my uncle interrupted him. I was taken away by Social Services. They told me that he was sent to jail.”
I felt that old anger that made my blood boil. The reminder of what I had walked in to find her own uncle doing to her.
“You know what’s really funny about all this?” She turned to me.
“What?”
“Of course, I missed my parents like mad, and I felt sad for the way my uncle had died, but I didn’t actually grieve for him because I hardly knew him. He only came to visit my parents three or four times. But I always grieved for my lost memories. I felt as if there was someone important standing in that dense fog. And I’ve been looking for that person who sometimes comes in my dreams as a figure that I am running toward, but can never reach. Even though reason tells me if that person was that important in my life he… or she, even tho
ugh it feels like it is a he, would have come to find me.”
“Maybe that person couldn’t come to you.”
She sighed. “At first I clung to that hope, but it’s an extremely unlikely scenario. The story was so big it was all over the media. I even remember reporters from a few cities were camped outside the hospital. If the person existed, he would have found some way to contact me. Phone, write, e-mail.”
“I’m sorry, Willow,” I whispered.
I wanted to hold her. To tell her she was not wrong. That person did exist and had longed for her as much as she had longed for him, but I realized I never wanted Willow to remember the past. I wanted Willow as I found her in her flower shop. Willow without those horrendous memories. Why put her through that hideous time again?
In my head it was like yesterday that she arrived at our school like a lost angel. She was so sad, so inconsolable. I wanted to wrap her in cotton wool and never let the world hurt her again. How could I know her uncle, the priest, the man who smiled so kindly at her, was breaking her wings in secret at night?
“Never mind,” she said with a smile. “I know it seems unlikely after all this time, but deep inside I have a feeling that someday my memories will come back.”
I didn’t want her to see my face. I turned away and pretended to look for something in the cupboard. I grasped the bottle of olive oil so hard my knuckles showed white. Deliberately, I loosened my grip. Calm down, Caleb. Calm the fuck, down. It’s all in the past now.
She brought over the vegetables she had sliced for me and stood by my side as I began to fry them.
I asked her about her shop and the mood of our conversation lightened up. When she asked for a taste when I tasted the sauce, I took the spoon towards her mouth, and the sight of her lips and tongue tasting the sauce from the same place my own lips had been, sent a jolt of heat to my cock.
I wanted to pull her on the kitchen table and fuck her until she screamed, and she must have seen in the look in my eyes, because she leaned forward and wrapped a hand around the back of my neck. Pulling me down, she slipped her tongue into my mouth.
Saint & Sinner: A Second Chance Romance Page 13