HARDER (7 page)

I
t felt
strange for me to see Caleb Harder so vulnerable in my arms. In the short time I’d known him, he’d seemed emotionally impenetrable and completely in control.

I held him as he raged, then calmed and talked to me quietly, and then raged again. I wanted to cry for him, to weep for everything he’d gone through but didn’t want to scare him with my own outpouring. I remained stoic, keeping my own bubbling grief deep inside. I knew I would have time to express it to him at some point, but that night it was all about his heartbreak.

His anger didn’t frighten me though. It wasn’t directed at me, but at life in general along with the cruel and horrible fates that had taken his wife and child from him.

After some time I began to feel the cold and needed to warm up. I extricated myself from his arms and said, “We should get you home.”

“I don’t want to go home,” he said again and held onto my hand. He was still drunk but I could tell he was sobering up a little.

“
My
home,” I said with a smile. “I’m taking you home. You need to sober up and we both need to get warm.”

He remained on the grass, looked off into the distance and said, “Sometimes I feel like I shouldn’t be happy, you know?”

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because they’re dead and I’m here without them. It feels wrong to live without them.”

“I didn’t know them but I can guarantee that they would want you to be warm and comfortable at the very least. You’re not proving anything or showing your love by catching pneumonia,” I said and tugged at his hand.

He still sat and stared. “They’re so cold, I should be cold.”

“They’re not cold,” I said. And even though I wasn’t necessarily a religious person, I said the only thing I could think of to comfort him. “They’re in a better place, Caleb. A warm and happy place where they get to relive your love every single day. Every day they celebrate the time they had with you because that’s become their entire world. You deserve to be warm, and you deserve love too. Loving and living down here on earth doesn’t diminish what you feel for them, in fact it honors them and their memory.”

He looked up at me with a startled look. “Do you really believe that?”

“I do with all my heart,” I told him. “Now let me help you, Caleb Harder. Let me honor their memory by taking care of you when you so obviously desperately need it.”

He stood then and looked down at me, reminding me again how impossibly tall and muscular and bloody good looking he was. He gave me a crooked smile and said, “What is it about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You make everything better,” he said. He grew serious and brought his fingers up to brush against my jawline. “The past three years have been like living in a nightmare. I haven’t even been living, just existing. The moment I saw Lucy standing in my flowerbed, things have been changing. And the moment I saw you there, god…nothing has been the same.”

My mind was racing a million miles a minute trying to process exactly what he was telling me. He’d already confessed that he wanted more than just friendship from me, but he was so vulnerable just then that I didn’t know how to react. I decided I’d play it safe. “That’s what friends do,” I told him and thrust my jaw out defiantly as if challenging him to say otherwise.

“Yes, that’s true,” he said and seemed to refocus his eyes on my face. “But if I weren’t so drunk and fucked up I would show you exactly what I want out of our friendship, Brooke.”

My breath caught in my throat and I could see his pulse throbbing in a vein on his neck seeming to match the fluttering of my own heart. “And what would that be?”

He drew in a long breath, ran his hand through his thick hair and looked back down at me. “This,” he said softly and dipped towards me to lock his mouth on mine and kiss me deeply.

I could taste the alcohol on his tongue and normally that would be an anxiety trigger for me. Whenever Rolland drank he became even more horrible than usual, so the smell and taste of booze shut me down.

But everything else about Caleb made that one thing disappear. His scent, even under the alcohol, was powerful and masculine. The way his lips felt on mine, the way his tongue commanded mine and made me feel like he was claiming me…all of that meant more to me than the taste of him.

And god, the noises he made in the back of his throat. Deep little growls like he wanted to tear my clothes off and plunge into me, split me open and release his lust on my body. The way his hands traveled along my back, the way his huge hand grabbed the back of my head and wove his fingers in my hair.

All the time I’d been with Rolland had never felt this
right
or this
real
.

That’s what it was with Caleb Harder. Everything about him just felt right, and right meant it felt like home. Like touching him was touching back down to earth and finding my place in the universe right there in his arms.

My arms were prickled with goose bumps; from the cold or the sensations Caleb was sending through my body I didn’t know. I shivered though and he noticed, broke away and looked down at me with concern. “You’re cold, we need to get you home.”

“I thought I was getting you home,” I smiled.

“We’re getting each other home, Brooke,” he said and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. “We’re caring for each other.”

“That’s the way frien—“

He cut me off. “Not friends, you know there’s more to this than that.”

I drew in a long breath, looked him in the eyes, past the pain and the sadness that lingered there, and I said, “I know. So much more than friends.”

“Good, now that we at least agree on that let’s get us home,” he smiled and pulled me towards him as he kissed the top of my head tenderly. That small gesture wasn’t erotic, but it was sensual and sent tingles through my limbs.

Caleb Harder cared for me. That much was true.

W
e walked
hand in hand through the park back to the van that Caleb had lent me indefinitely. I was even starting to think of it as my van, but that thought frightened me somewhat.

How could I grow so attached to something that wasn’t mine? Then again, how could I grow so attached to
somebody
who wasn’t mine?

And Caleb Harder wasn’t mine. Not yet anyhow, but there was something almost electric crackling between the two of us that promised something would happen if we let it. If the world let it.

My hand fit too perfectly in his for this to be a coincidence. My stomach fluttered as if filled with butterflies desperately trying to fly free and declare their undying love and devotion to the man walking beside me. This was no passing fancy.

As surely as my blood was beating through my pulsating heart, my destiny felt wrapped up with his.

“I can drive,” he said and swiped at my hand for the keys. “I’m sobering up.”

“I think the keyword there is
sobering
, not sober,” I said and jerked my hand back. “I don’t know how much you’ve had to drink. Hell, I don’t think you know how much you’ve had to drink.”

“That is true,” he said and his good humor disappeared as he raced back inside himself. A dark shadow flickered across his handsome face and he grimaced. “I never wanted you to see me like that.”

“But you called for me,” I said and touched his arm. “Why did you call for me?”

“I couldn’t think of anyone else I’d rather be with,” he replied and put his hand on mine. “I’m sorry though, that you had to see that.”

“Don’t ever apologize for showing me that you’re human,” I told him. “You are allowed to show emotions.”

He looked at me with a surprised expression, smiled and said, “Where did you come from, Brooke?”

It was my turn to shut down and let that darkness flicker across my face. I could feel it in my skin and see it in Caleb’s eyes. I wasn’t ready to tell him about me yet.

“That’s not important right now,” I told him. “We need to get you home to sleep this off.”

He looked puzzled by my response but he got in the van with me. I drove of course and by the time we made it to my modest apartment, he was nodding off in the passenger seat beside me. It had been a good call to not let him drive, he was still drunker than either one of us had thought.

I cut the engine and stared at him for a moment, really stared at him like I hadn’t been able to when he was fully awake. It was a brief moment so I didn’t feel too creepy, but I almost caught my breath in my throat at his face.

He was turned slightly away from me, but he was perfection in human form. His strong jawline curled up into his thick, shaggy hair. His ear was even beautiful; he was just so bloody gorgeous I felt shabby and awkward around him yet again.

The streetlight of the parking lot lit up the flat plain of his cheek, his five o’clock shadow stubble had grown in over the past week, giving him a rugged feral hotness that made my belly clench and the rest of me turn to liquid energy. His thick dark eyelashes fanned along his high cheekbone and flickered in the dim light as he started to wake up.

God I wanted to kiss him then but managed to knock the steering wheel as I was leaning towards him. The horn beeped loudly in the silence of the night and Caleb jerked fully awake.

“Are we home?” he asked and rubbed sleep from his eyes.

“We are,” I replied and opened the door as hot shame crept over my body. The spell had been broken and I had been exposed as a creepy weirdo peering at Caleb in the van.

He got out of his side and came around as I fumbled with the key fob trying to lock it.

“Here, let me,” he said, taking it from my trembling hand and hitting the button. “Why are you so nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” I replied, took the keys, straightened my back and shook off my embarrassment.

“There’s nothing wrong with taking a look, you know,” he said with a lopsided grin.

I stopped and whirled around to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I was half asleep but I could feel you watching me,” he replied. “And I’m telling you there’s nothing wrong with it.”

“There isn’t?” I asked, my breath definitely hitching in my chest. I hated that he’d known I was staring, but I loved that he didn’t mind.

“I stare at you, you know,” he said with a grin. “I’m just better at not getting caught.”

With that he took my hand and led me to my apartment, me in stunned silence.

When did he look at me? And how did he remember where I lived? He’d only been over one time.

As I opened the door to my place I stopped and looked up at him defiantly. “Have you been stalking me?”

He chuckled and bent down for a quick kiss. “You can’t stalk the willing, sweetheart.” He swept past me into my space and left me with my mouth hanging open.

I laughed then, shrugged my shoulders and closed the door. “You’ve got me there,” I said and followed him into my living room, my hands shaking at what might happen now that Caleb had made his way into my house and seemed to be making his way into my heart.

“
W
hat time are
you picking Lucy up?” Caleb asked as he sprawled on the couch with a languid look in his eyes.

All I could think was how dusty and dull my place must seem to him. His mansion was incredible and stuffed to the hilt with exquisite furnishings and artwork. I had a second hand couch, chair, a bookshelf with second hand books, a dented TV stand and our only new item, a flat screen TV and disc player for Lucy’s extensive Disney collection.

“Uh, not until the afternoon,” I said with a dry mouth. “You want something to drink? Water? Juice? Coffee?”

“How about you just come and sit over here by me,” he said with a wicked little grin as he patted the couch next to him. “I think we need to get to know each other a little better, hey babe?” He loosened the top button of his jeans and I felt warm all over as I almost took the first step towards him and the sex we were obviously going to have.

But I hesitated. It felt so wrong somehow though, he had just confessed the greatest tragedy he could have possibly lived through and now he seemed to be hitting on me. I felt like Caleb had retreated and I was getting just one facet of his public face. Instead of the grumpy loner, I was getting the charming player…the man I’d seen at the club that night out with Addy.

I didn’t want the player or the grump; I wanted Caleb.

“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,” I said with my arms crossed in front of me, resisting the urge to leap on his body and take him up on the offer even knowing it would most likely ruin any burgeoning romance between us. “How about that coffee?”

He frowned and focused on my face. “You’re no fun.”

“This isn’t a fun night, Caleb.”

“It could be,” he said suggestively and patted the couch next to him again. “You just need to loosen up a little, babe.”

“Think about this,” I told him, “Think about what you just told me in the park. I need you to be real with me or this is
never
going to go beyond friendship.” I surprised myself by standing up to him. I’d never been allowed to be this in control of a situation around Rolland, but it felt like this circumstance demanded it. I needed Caleb in my life, not just for one cheap superficial night.

He looked shocked, opened his mouth as if to give me some snappy reply, then closed it again. “What the hell, Brooke?” he demanded with equal parts anger and admiration.

I felt my stomach clench, afraid I’d crossed a line, but my stupid stubborn nature kept my mouth moving and I said, “What do you mean what the hell? You spill your guts to me, tell me you want more than friendship, and then you put on your cheesy club act and hit on me like I’m just some slutty college girl you want to bang and leave in the morning. Well that ain’t gonna happen, Caleb Harder. I’m not somebody you can fool with your charming smile and your hot body.”

He drew in a deep breath, ran his hand through his thick hair and smiled slowly. “God dammit, Brooke,” he chuckled. “You’re the first women who’s ever turned me down.”

I arched my brow and stared down at him. “The
first
?” I asked sarcastically. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Hey, you’re the one who called me hot, most women think that’s enough,” he said, sitting up on my couch and collecting himself somewhat.

“I said you had a hot body,” I retorted as if that was any better. He laughed out loud and I moved to the kitchen to get him his coffee.

Caleb Harder was confusing the hell out of me and I needed to focus on a simple task to keep myself from crumbling in front of him. He was so overwhelmingly attractive that it was difficult to say no, but he was so wounded that I knew how he’d act if we did have sex tonight.

I knew because I felt like I would act the same way. I would retreat so far into myself that there would be no hope of anything developing between us, and that would crush the little blossom of love that was curling up out of the ground between us.

I finished making the coffee and took a cup back to Caleb. He was standing in front of my one little bookshelf going over the books I had on the shelf. I was happy I left my steamy romance novels on my Kindle and all I had out here were my literary obsessions.

I’d been reading from a young age and could always find my favorites at the thrift shop when I’d pick up clothes for Lucy and I. I wasn’t embarrassed of my weird obsession, in fact I’d always thought about going to college to become an English teacher or a writer but of course things had never worked out that way.

“You surprise me,” he said with an old copy of Middlemarch in his hand. “You didn’t strike me as the George Eliot type.”

I handed him his coffee and he set the book back on the shelf. I tried not to bristle at his words and said, “What type did I seem like to you?”

“Don’t be offended,” he told me and sat back on the couch. I took the chair and watched his perfect lips touch the edge of the mug and felt longing course through me. Oh to be that mug, even the steam of the coffee seemed to rise and curl around his face as if not wanting to leave him so soon.

“I’m not offended,” I replied, shaking it off. “I’m genuinely curious to know what type you thought I was.”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’re smart,” he said, glancing down at the coffee. “I know you’re bloody smart, Brooke. But I don’t think you have much time to read anything at all. You’re a hard working mom and seem to dedicate all your spare time to Lucy and I admire the hell out of that. Reading seems secondary in your world, so I would think you’d be more into the kind of cheesy romance my wife used to like. Escapism.”

“Middlemarch is an escape,” I said and relaxed. He hadn’t been insulting my lack of education after all. “What was her name?”

For a moment I thought I’d crossed that line and pushed him too hard. He was sobering up a little now and I didn’t know how freely he would discuss the most painful part of his life with me.

He drew a quavering breath, set the coffee mug on the table next to the couch and leaned towards me. He looked me in the eyes and said, “Her name was Anna. Our son was Trevor.”

“I’m so sorry,” I replied softly. “I know it means nothing for you to hear it from me, but my heart breaks for everything you’ve been through.”

“It does mean something coming from you,” he said and smiled through his pain. “You’re real. You’re the most authentic person I know and when you say something I know you mean it. That’s worth more than a thousand empty platitudes.”

I was quiet and let him reveal himself to me one sentence at a time. It was all we could do, two broken souls growing easier with each other.

My heart lurched at the thought of my turn, telling him about Rolland and everything that had happened, but I knew I could open up to Caleb one day but for now it was his turn.

“It was a car accident…a hit and run. The police still don’t know who did it,” he said, his voice cracking as he spoke. “It was late at night and they were driving up to the cabin for the weekend. I’d gone ahead to set things up earlier that day and didn’t know what had happened until close to midnight. They should have arrived at six, but it took me that long to react and look for them.”

“How could you have known?” I asked and reached out to touch him on the knee.

He flinched when my hand made contact but I kept it there, knowing he needed the human connection. I could feel the warmth of our contact and it made me feel human again, like I was before Rolland had stripped it all away from me and reduced me to something less than who I’d been.

“This is good,” he said, putting his hand on mine. “I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this with anyone.”

“Talking helps,” I said and felt my own walls slowly rise as I thought about the look on Caleb’s face when I detailed the horrible things I’d allowed to happen for all those years. Would he think less of me for not standing up to Rolland for my sake or Lucy’s? What kind of mother could have let her little girl go through that monster’s rage more than one time? And what kind of human being could have allowed herself to be ground down into nothing like that?

Caleb sipped his cooling coffee and seemed increasingly composed as the time went on and we chatted casually about our lives. I finally couldn’t stop yawning and had to make it to bed.

As I stood so did Caleb. “I’m going to come to your bed tonight,” he told me, caressing my cheek with the back of his knuckles, “I’m going to hold you and we are going to sleep.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked.

“I want to touch you, Brooke, but I’m still too buzzed to do exactly what I want to do.”

“What would that be?” I gulped, looking into his intense green eyes.

“I want to take you, make you mine and make this more than friendship,” he said and held his hand on my face, cupping it gently. “I want to ruin you for other men and mark you as my territory, but it needs to happen when we’re ready. I want it to be perfect because you’re perfect. You deserve nothing less.”

I couldn’t breathe, the air fled my body and I couldn’t draw in another breath because of the power behind his words. I felt like he was putting a spell on me and I was powerless to resist. When Caleb Harder wanted me, he would take me and I would be his. That’s just the way the world worked now.

I was a marked woman, and truth be told, I was already his; we just didn’t fully know it yet.

“Let’s get to bed,” I said and pulled him behind me as we walked down the hall to my room. The air practically crackled with that crazy electric intensity between us, but we got into my little bed fully clothed and I felt his breath on the back of my neck until I closed my eyes and slipped into sleep with Caleb’s body keeping me warm and safe.