“Right, the elusive problem you can’t seem to spit out for the life of you.”
It was my turn to laugh. She could string the simplest of words together in a statement, but coming out of her mouth, it transformed into pure poetic prose. “I’m going out of the country on a business trip the day after tomorrow on a red-eye. And I want another night with her before I have to leave for a week, because I know I will miss her every day that I’m away.”
Silence. And then the soft sob I’d heard this morning when her emotions blasted her. Shit. I made her cry, again?!
“Brooke . . . baby . . . it’s okay.” I waited and tried to remember what she’d told me this morning, about how this—whatever the fuck they were: sudden emotional episodes—never happened to her before the accident.
“I’m fine,” she breathed back at me after what felt like an eon of time. “You just surprised me with another wonderful moment, Caleb. You should maybe slow that down a bit.”
I laughed again, and I felt so fucking relieved to know that if I was making her cry, at least it was the wonderful-moment kind and not the other. “I will try, but it’s probably impossible to limit my wonderful moments with you, Brooke.” Straight-up truth.
“I think I have a solution to your problem, Caleb. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes, I’d love to hear it.” It sounded like she might take pity on me and stay over again. I mentally crossed my fingers.
“Well, I am going home tonight. I need to be in my normal environment and go about my usual routines. I visit Nan at physical therapy, and there is the wedding coming up, too, which I work on planning at night, and also getting her things packed up to move into Herman’s house in a very short time. She’s being released from the hospital this Thursday, and I’ll be taking the rest of this week off work so I can be home to prepare, and to help her get settled.”
“You are very busy,” I said, trying not to let her hear my disappointment at knowing she wouldn’t be sleeping in my bed tonight. She wouldn’t even be back to Boston at all before I left on my trip.
“Yes but busy doing things I love. It sounds as if you’ll be booked up as well, considering you have an international trip in a few days. Where are you going?”
“Abu Dhabi. It’s the World Sustainability Summit. I go every year.” I suddenly hated the idea of going this year.
“Well, I don’t know what commitments you have at work before you leave for Abu Dhabi on Wednesday night, but if you are free to take some time off, you could come and stay with me at the cottage . . . and experience south-end island life for a few days.” She paused in the silence. “If the idea is to your liking, of course.” God, I fucking love you.
“Yes, the idea is to my liking. Yes, I’m free to take the time.” No wasted words there. My heart was about to explode out of my chest, but I was answering her in coherent sentences at least.
“Will you come on the five-thirty ferry with me, or are you getting there on your own at a later time?” she asked softly.
“Oh . . . most definitely on the five-thirty ferry with you, beautiful,” I answered.
Brooke
Caleb emerged from the backseat of the Mercedes with a leather bag in his left hand and an autumn bouquet of flowers in his right. A supremely hot man boarding the ferry whilst carrying flowers got more than a few heads turning—and even some smirks, as he walked right over and greeted me with a kiss that stole my breath. Lucky me.
“Have you ever taken this ferry before?” I asked, after he ended the kiss.
“When I was a kid with the Boy Scouts I did,” he said, looking over the side with a frown. “Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason other than you don’t really have the vibe of a BIF annual pass holder going on, is all.” I shaped my hands around the outline of his body for emphasis. Caleb still wore the navy blue suit he’d put on this morning, but he’d replaced the shirt and tie for a jumper in a mustard color that popped against the blue. It would be hard to miss him in a crowd. Even when dressing down, he still looked expensive. “But hot. Incredibly hot.”
I forced myself to tamp down the images of us together last night still playing in my head and making me ache for more of the same. I had to suppress them, or I might do something utterly indecent in front of our audience on this very public ferry boat.
Caleb Blackstone had infected me with the desire to belong to him, to be more than just sexual partners in some really superb shagging. He made me feel like I mattered, like I was important to him and he needed me. It was the most wonderful feeling, experiencing that with him last night.
And absolutely fucking terrifying at the same time.
I could tell he liked my comment about being incredibly hot because his eyes flared. “No? And here I thought I was doing a good job of fitting right in.” He handed me the mixed bouquet of flowers. “For you.”