“You’ve met them before?” He seemed surprised, but interested.
“Yes. It was shortly after I’d come here to live with Nan. Your sisters were turning sixteen, and there was a big birthday party for them at Blackwater to which I was invited. I met your father that day as well, but I don’t remember if I met your mother or not. I wasn’t very socially inclined then—I’d just lost my parents and been plunked down into a foreign world, or at least it felt like it to me, so that time period is sort of a blur. But I do recall the birthday party. It was a hot summer day, and everyone was in the pool cooling off. I didn’t go in, though. I preferred to watch the kids playing chicken fight in the pool—everything felt so very different here in America, and I was taking it all in at first. I wasn’t ready to make friends or play games. But Winter came over to sit by me and asked about living in England. We talked about the Jonas Brothers, who were wildly popular in the UK at the time, and other teenage girl stuff, but mostly she took the time to make me feel welcome at the party.”
His expression changed and lost the animation he’d shown earlier. “I didn’t make it to their birthday party. I remember I had to be in Dallas for an IPO. I tried to get back home, but the planes were grounded due to severe weather and nobody made it out.”
“It really bothered you to miss their birthday, didn’t it?”
“Yeah. I’ve missed out on too much, though, and it can’t be undone. I’ve learned that the hard way, and it pretty much sucks.” He looked me in the eyes. “But I don’t need to tell you that, Brooke, as I’m sure you’ve learned through your loss.”
And there it was again. The shit tears exploding at the most random of times. If this wonderful man didn’t start heading for the hills to get away from me, I’d never understand why. I lowered my head and took in gulps of air between the sobs.
Caleb was quiet. Patient . . .
He didn’t ask if I was okay this time. He did not offer a consoling comment. He just reached his hands across the table and picked up both of mine. His thumbs rubbed circles over my palms in the most gentle of ways . . . and the tightness in my throat passed after a minute.
“—I—I can tell you l-love your family v-very much, Caleb,” I managed to stammer eventually.
“I do love them.”
I slowly breathed in and out to help settle my emotions back down where they belonged, when he said more to me.
“Brooke, I know this is too soon, but I also know I don’t care that it’s too soon, because it’s already happening for me, and it can’t be undone any more than missing my sisters’ sixteenth birthday.”
My eyes lifted to find his and there they were—beautiful, blue ringed with gold piercing into my heart. “What are y-you s-saying?”
“That it’s too late to change back to the time before I met you, Brooke, because I know what you make me feel, and it’s different.”
“And what is it I’m making you feel?” My heart was surely going to split apart any second and then I wouldn’t have to worry about finishing this conversation with him. It could just be over.
“Love.” It was softly spoken, but I heard him clearly.
Love.
Love?
No. He can’t.
Not love.
“No, you can’t love me, Caleb. You just can’t.”
Caleb
Too late for that, beautiful.
An out-of-body experience. Yeah, that’s what was happening to me right now in Brooke’s cottage on the island above the Fairchild Light. I was out of my motherfucking body and floating somewhere around the ceiling, staring down and wondering who the fuckhead was, sitting across from her, looking like he couldn’t remember his own name.
To be honest she didn’t look much better. She was as lovely as always, but I’d shocked the hell out of her, without a doubt.
I’d shocked the hell out of myself. The minute the words were out of my mouth, I knew I’d made a mistake and said too goddamn much. I’d scared her. I was supposed to be going slow. I fucked up. Again. Why are you such a dipshit moron? Why?!
She pulled her hands away from mine and covered her mouth. She just stared across the table at me. Shocked. And beautifully perfect, even with her hair kind of messy from the desperate-but-oh-so-hot wall fuck we’d shared. But her eyes—they were truly stunning right now as she blinked like she was trying to hold back tears again. The eyes still had the look of a satisfied woman who’d been ridden hard and loved every minute of it, though.
And even after the crazed wall sex, Brooke had gone further by making dinner with her precious hands, putting it on a plate, and serving me at the table. What in the actual fuck? I’d been the one shocked then, because I’d had no experiences like it before. No woman had ever done that for me.
Brooke had such a generous soul, and she’d done it all with happiness in her heart just because she’d wanted to.