Let It Be Me (Men of the Misfit Inn Book 1)

by Kait Nolan

  “Let’s just get clear about this, okay? If we were the same age or I was the older one, would you be hesitating?”

  In the face of his logic, she stammered. “I don’t—this is weird. We’re friends. Neighbors.”

  He was in it now. Might as well make himself perfectly clear. “And I’d like to be more. If you’re legit not interested, that’s completely fine. I’ll back off right now and we’ll go back to the way things were.” He hoped like hell she didn’t choose door number one. “But if your only hangup about this is some silly number, then I’m sorry to say, I’ll have to change your mind.”

  “Change my—”

  Choosing to take that as an invitation—maybe the only one he’d ever get—Caleb captured her mouth with his.

  Chapter 5

  At the first soft touch of Caleb’s lips, Emerson’s brain short-circuited, spilling out whatever protest she’d been about to make. Immobile with shock, she could only stand there. No one had kissed her in four years, and never, ever like this.

  He wasn’t touching her anywhere but her mouth, each tender brush a question that made her knees go weak. That was her only excuse for sagging into him, curling her hands into his shirt. It wasn’t because she wanted to get closer for more of this gentle assault on her senses.

  But his arms came around her, and one hand slid into her hair, cupping her nape with those strong, capable fingers in a way that made her want to whimper. He angled her head to take the kiss deeper, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips. She opened for him on a greedy moan. But there was no room for embarrassment, only need, as her world tilted again at the taste of him. It hit her blood like a double shot of top-shelf whiskey, lighting her on fire.

  Caleb was kissing her.

  Not a pity kiss. Not a distraction. A toe-curling, no-faking, I-am-into-you kiss. His shorts did nothing to hide his reaction to her. This was not a drill. He was impossibly, improbably into her.

  And, God, she was so tired of denying her attraction because it had been longer than she could remember since she’d felt like this. Hell, she’d never felt like this, and she was so here for this madness.

  Sliding her hand up his chest, behind his neck, she dragged him closer. On a groan, he pressed into her, backing her up until she was trapped between his body and the railing. Why wasn’t there a wall handy?

  His hand slipped beneath her shirt, gliding up her back. Just that simple touch of skin on skin had Emerson rising to her toes and considering climbing him like a tree.

  Caleb jolted, his head whipping up. “What the—?”

  “Wha—?”

  Paws thunked back to the deck. The dog. They’d just been interrupted by the dog. As they watched, he grabbed the hem of Caleb’s shorts in his mouth and tugged in a very clear signal to Get away from my mama.

  The affront on Caleb’s face almost made her laugh. Almost. But her lips were still tingling and swollen from the kiss she wished wasn’t over. Because now that it was, she could think again.

  He let her go and the dog immediately wormed his way between them, plunking his butt down right on Emerson’s feet.

  Caleb scowled. “Nobody asked you to play chaperone.”

  It was a good thing he had because they’d been practically dry humping on her back porch. Jesus, had she no self control?

  Face flaming, she dropped down to love on her neglected pooch and worked on catching her breath. “You were the one who thought it was a good idea for me to get a dog.”

  Caleb was still glaring at the canine cock blocker. “We need to have a serious discussion about the roles and responsibilities of a proper wingman.” But he softened the words with a rub of the dog’s ears. “I’m sure he can be bribed. We’ll brainstorm that at dinner.”

  Dinner. Right. The date.

  Without his mouth and hands to circumvent her brain, she was back to remembering all the reasons this was a bad idea. He was younger than her. She was supposed to be working on finding herself again. She was a single parent, and despite his assertion that she was one of the most competent women he knew, she was kind of a mess.

  They had chemistry. She could no longer argue that. But was chemistry enough to overcome everything else? To risk one of the best friendships she had?

  “Caleb—”

  He leaned in and kissed her again, just a quick brush of lips to her temple. “Seriously, Em, age is just a number. Get the anti-wingman here settled, have some bonding time, pick a name. I’ll be by to get you tomorrow night at six.” And without giving her a chance to respond, he trotted down the steps and out the gate.

  Emerson lifted a hand to her lips. She could still feel him, still taste him, and it didn’t seem too dramatic to say that nothing would ever be the same again.

  Her phone began to ring. Really? Did he think he needed the last last word? Rattled and uncertain, she didn’t check her phone display before she answered it. “Hello?”

  “Oh my God, tell me everything!” Fiona’s excited voice nearly pierced her eardrum.

  In abject horror, Emerson glanced up at the security camera mounted on the corner of the house. The one pointed in this direction. Holy hell, had Fiona actually seen her turn into a mindless, shameless hussy? Mortification burned through her, molten and bright. She was not about to talk about that earth-shattering, mind-bending kiss with her daughter. There was only one alternative: Plausible deniability.

  “Emerson? Are you there?”

  “I…yeah. I’m here, baby. What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play coy with me. Caleb texted and said mission accomplished.”

  “He did what?” Her tone was too sharp, but what the hell was he thinking? It was one thing to kiss the bejeezus out of her and scramble her brain. It was something else entirely to tell her kid about it.

  “He told me about the dog. Don’t be mad. It was my idea, so he was keeping me in the loop.”

  The dog. She was calling about the dog.

  “Oh.”

  Said dog gazed up at her with undisguised adoration, his whole butt wagging. On a silent breath, she scrubbed his ears and headed inside the house, trying to realign her brain cells to the actual conversation. “I was going to surprise you. I guess you surprised me instead.”

  “Sooo! Tell me about him!”

  This wasn’t Paisley. Fi wasn’t talking about the details of how Caleb’s hard body had felt against hers or how his hand had tangled in her hair as his lips laid absolute waste to her defenses, reminding her in no uncertain terms that she was a woman with long, long denied needs.

  Digging through the bags he’d piled on the counter, she unearthed a box of dog biscuits and shook it. At the sound, the dog turned joyful circles, his canine grin so wide, it made her laugh. “He’s a sweetheart. Two-year-old pittie mix. Dark brown and white, with the cutest little pink and black nose.”

  “Awwww.”

  She opened the box. “Want a cookie?”

  The dog’s trembling butt hit the ground and he looked up with the Puss In Boots eyes.

  “Oh my God, those eyes. Good boy. Here you go.”

  He neatly nipped the biscuit from her fingers.

  “What’s his name?”

  As he aimed those deadly eyes at her and lifted a paw, the perfect one came to her. “Mooch. His name is Mooch because I have a feeling that with these eyes, he’s gonna be one.”

  Fiona laughed, and the sound soothed something in Emerson’s soul. Her girl was happy. That was what mattered at the end of the day.

  “You’ll have to send me pictures!”

  “I will. You’ll have to come meet him. Meanwhile, tell me about school.”

  “Classes haven’t even started yet.”

  “Humor me. How’s the dorm? How’s the roommate?”

  Deciding she deserved a people cookie after the total upending of her nice, orderly life, Emerson rummaged in the pantry for her emergency stash of Oreos. Package ripped open, she began to munch as Fiona filled her in.

  But
she couldn’t concentrate on the animated descriptions of people living on Fi’s floor. Her brain kept drifting back to that kiss and to the dinner date he’d announced. Should she go? She wanted to. And she didn’t.

  This whole situation absolutely terrified her.

  What happened if she indulged in whatever this was and Caleb figured out that she wasn’t anywhere near as interesting as he thought? Things would just flame out, and then where would she be? There was no way she could sleep with a man like him and then go back to being friends.

  But…hadn’t he already changed things? Could she really go back to being just buddies after that kiss? Would she ever even be able to look at him again without thinking about it?

  “—home for dinner tomorrow night?”

  “Tomorrow night?” When she was supposed to have a date with Caleb.

  She hadn’t said yes. He’d just made the declaration. It would serve him right for being dictatorial if Fi was here when he came over. And yet, saying yes to Fiona felt like being a big, fat coward. Wasn’t she supposed to be figuring out life without her? Reminding herself of who Emerson Aldridge: Woman actually was? Right now she was still hot and bothered and confused. Surely the best way through that was to go on the date.

  “I can’t tomorrow, sweetpea. There’s something I need to do. How about Tuesday? You can meet Mooch. And I’d love to see you.”

  “Sounds good. You should invite Caleb.”

  It was a standard request. Maybe one that should’ve concerned her before now. They were friends, all of them. Emerson knew she’d crushed on him. That had seemed normal and natural at her age. But…Fiona was in college now. What if she was looking at Caleb as more than a friend? Emerson wasn’t at all concerned that Caleb would look back, but what would it do to Fi to find out that the two of them were involved?

  Were they involved?

  “Emerson?”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry. I was just checking the schedule. He’s on shift Tuesday night, so it’ll be just us girls.” And that would be for the best. She didn’t want to be around them both at the same time until she’d sorted through how she felt.

  “Too bad. But I can’t wait to meet Mooch. Give him a kiss for me, and I’ll see you Tuesday.”

  Emerson straightened from the counter and turned. “Sounds like a pl—holy shit!”

  “What? Is everything okay?”

  “It’s fine. I gotta call you back.”

  She hung up and looked up at the dog, who sat watching her as if she was the greatest thing since bacon. From the top of the refrigerator.

  “How the hell did you get up there?”

  Mooch grinned.

  She lifted her phone and snapped a picture. “Well, life with you definitely isn’t going to be boring.”

  Freshly showered, Caleb crossed the expanse of yard between his house and Emerson’s. He’d had twenty-four hours to wonder whether he’d made a mistake giving her time to think about what had happened between them. But deep down, he knew the full-court press would have backfired on him for sure. Tonight was about addressing whatever concerns she’d come up with—he knew there’d be plenty—and convincing her to give them a chance despite all of them.

  Instead of circling around to the back like normal, he went to the front door and rang the bell. She answered a few moments later, a frown bowing her painted lips. She’d done her makeup for him. Nothing outrageous, just some color on her cheeks and lips, and something to make those bluebonnet eyes big enough to drown in. So she did plan on keeping the date. Hurdle number one jumped.

  “Why didn’t you come to the back?”

  “A date seems like a front door kind of event.” Caleb stepped inside and brushed a quick kiss to her cheek, catching the subtle floral notes of her shampoo. “You look beautiful.”

  Her hand fluttered in the air for a moment before tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. “You didn’t say where we were going. I wasn’t sure what to wear.”

  A solid canine head wedged itself between them and began to sniff Caleb from foot to crotch. “Still in chaperone mode, I see.” He crouched down on the dog’s level to give him a good rubdown instead of letting his gaze linger on the well-worn jeans and form-fitting white cotton shirt that showed off Emerson’s curves and a tantalizing hint of skin revealed by the open top buttons.

  “You’re perfect. I’m grilling at my place so you can bring your new friend here. I figured he might have some separation anxiety this soon.” And he knew part of her objections would be tied to what other people would think about her being out with a younger guy. They’d tackle that one later. He wanted her to be comfortable.

  As Emerson’s whole posture relaxed, he knew he’d made the right call.

  “Thanks. I really didn’t want to leave him crated. I don’t know if he’s a digger, and he’s got some…unexpected traits that mean I really didn’t want to leave him loose in the house on his own.” She grabbed the leash and snapped it on. Butt wagging, the dog towed her toward the door.

  “Like what? Did he chew up some of your stuff?”

  “I’ll tell you about it over dinner. Let’s just say the theory that he was raised with cats is looking like a good one.”

  “Curiouser and curiouser.”

  They crossed the yard together, cutting through his house and out to the patio. Emerson set the dog loose to go sniff the perimeter of his backyard.

  “Wine or cider?”

  “What’s dinner?”

  “Got a nice cedar-planked salmon and veggies to toss on the grill.”

  Her lips curved a little. “Breaking the bachelor mold of steak and potatoes?”

  “That’s too predictable.”

  “Nothing about the last few days has been predictable.” She blew out a breath. “Surprise me.”

  He brought back a glass of the sauvignon blanc he knew she liked, along with a plate of stuffed mushrooms. Emerson plucked one off the plate and the dog made a beeline across the yard, plopping down into a vibrating sit.

  “Don’t even think about it, Mooch. These are not for you.”

  “You named him Mooch?”

  “Seemed appropriate. I mean, look at that face.”

  Mooch swung The Eyes toward Caleb, determined he didn’t have food in his hand, and turned back to Emerson.

  “That’s Olympic-gold-medal begging right there. Mooch is perfect.” He lit the grill. “How’s he working out otherwise?”

  She sipped her wine, humming in appreciation. “Well, he jumps on counters. And tables. And the refrigerator.”

  Caleb paused, a mushroom in his hand. “The fridge? How?”

  “I don’t know. I was on the phone with Fi last night and I turned around and—boom—there he was.” She pulled out her phone and swiped the screen. “See?”

  Sure enough, the dog smiled down from the top of the fridge. “You can barely even reach that with a stool.”

  “I am aware. Until I can train him out of it, I’ve had to move everything that’s breakable off the horizontal surfaces in the house.”

  “Yikes. Are you having regrets?” Man, if he’d saddled her with a problem animal…

  “No. I mean, there’s going to be an adjustment period, but as advertised, he does not, in fact, seem to bark. Like…ever. He stays more or less glued to my side. When I’m recording, he’s happy laying down right outside the booth.”

  “That sounds ideal.”

  “It’s early days yet, but so far, yeah. He’s a cuddler. We got him that big, cushy dog bed, and I woke up last night and he’d snuck into my bed, all snuggled up next to me. It was so damned cute, I didn’t have the heart to kick him out.”

  “Well hell, I didn’t think I’d be jealous of a dog.” The moment the joke left his mouth, Caleb regretted it.

  Emerson tensed up again, dropping her gaze to her wine.

  “Sorry,” he muttered. “I was kidding around. I didn’t mean to bring up the elephant in the room.”

  She shook her head. “We might as well ackno
wledge it. I don’t know what I’m doing here, Caleb. This is crazy.”

  “You’re here because you haven’t done anything for yourself since Fiona came into your life.” At least, he hoped that was why she was here.

  The wine glass made a discordant thunk as she set it on the table. “I inherited a traumatized teenager. She needed me, and I—”

  Caleb covered her hand with his and squeezed. “No, I’m not saying you should have done any different. I was there that night. I know why you did what you did. It’s why I waited.”

  Confusion drew down her brows. “Waited?”

  “I’d have asked you out years ago if you’d had the bandwidth for it. But that wasn’t what you needed.”

  He expected her to fixate on the “years ago” part of his admission, but she surprised him.

  “How do you know what I need?” He didn’t take offense at the faint edge of accusation in her voice.

  “I’ve made a study of it. A study of you.” Because those bluebonnet eyes held a spark of challenge, he began reeling things off. “You need stability and routine. You can pivot when you need to, but it takes a lot out of you. You need physical release for all that stress you carry around like Atlas, which is why I got you into running. You need quiet—until you don’t. Not that you’ve gotten too much of that since Fi came along. Sometimes you need somebody else to pull you out of your shell and your cave. You’ll grumble about it a bit, but you almost always end up glad you came.” With every word, every statement that showed he’d been paying attention, that he knew her, her eyes got rounder, her shock more pronounced. He enjoyed keeping her off balance like this—as long as it meant he was the one who got to catch her.

  She was outright staring when he was through. “Why? Why me? I mean, you’re—” She waved a hand in his general direction as if to encompass all of him. “—that. You could have any other woman you wanted.”

  A fact which his fellow firefighters had brought up many times over the years. Not that it mattered.

  “I don’t want any other woman. I want you.” Curling his fingers around hers, he stroked his thumb across her pulse point and felt it jump. “Is that a problem for you? Because I meant what I said. If you don’t want to go here, I’m not forcing anything. I’ll back off and we’ll forget it ever happened.”