Retreat to Love (12 page)

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Authors: Melanie Greene

BOOK: Retreat to Love
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Chapter 9

 

Reluctantly, I stepped back. “This—we should stop.”

He looked pained.

“No, just—not in here. Let’s go talk, okay?”

And he gave me his crinkly smile, which had gained the ability to send a blush up my core. I stroked his smooth cheek, and he kissed my palm, then held it as he led the way out of the Main House.

“Your place or mine?”

“Yours,” I answered quickly, then added, “I seem to get a lot of unexpected visitors.”

He nodded and we turned south along the little road, the crunching of the shale and a horny bullfrog the only sounds until we reached his cabin.

 

“Okay,” I said, taking the glass of water and scooching a bit closer into him as he sat down, “I think we have a lot to talk about.”

“Can’t we postpone a little bit?”

I had to seriously batten down my hatches as I shook my head. “I’d love to. But I think not. You could easily take advantage of my state of confusion tonight, and I think I’d like that very much,” I ran my cheekbone along the soft cotton of his shirt, aware of the rise and fall of his chest within it, “very much indeed. But I need to deal with things before I go making them much more complex.”

He laughed and swept my hair back from my forehead. “You are definitely off your rocker, Ashlyn May. And I don’t believe you have the soul of an artist, either. A proper artist would let herself be swept away by passion.”

“Now you’re hitting below the belt. Be good,” I stopped him from tugging at my belt loop, “and talk to me or say good night.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Caleb heaved himself up to sit on the desk chair. “I’ll be good.”

It felt great just to look at him, watch his body move, meet his gaze without wondering what he was thinking about what I was thinking. The stranglehold the tension had on my forehead eased for the first time since lunch.

“So, what do you want to talk about?”

I suddenly felt self-conscious, and arranged myself so I was sitting with my legs folded under, tucking myself as deeply into the sofa cushions as I could go. The subtly different layout of his cabin made me slightly off-kilter. I didn’t own the space the way I did ValeSong, and had to blink a couple of times with the oddness of sitting on an identical sofa but speaking towards the chair now on my left.

I refocused on Caleb. “Okay, starting at the beginning of this long bizarre day, tell me what you were talking about in the kitchen this morning, about Wren.”

“Great, you would start with that.”

“It’s easier for me.” I sipped the water. “Although it presents a whole range of new problems I’d rather not face.”

“So she does like me, then?”

“We all like you, Caleb.”

“No.” Smiling. “She’s—she’s had ideas about being the one I kiss in the computer room, instead of you?”

“I didn’t realize the computer room was integral to your plan. You can take this Zeke and Ned thing too far, you know.”

“You’re just glad I have problems and concerns of my own now. Answer the question.”

I sighed. “I wasn’t going to tell you this earlier today, but given the circumstances. Yes, Wren has been interested in you from day one, and has been asking Lizzy and I advice about what to do since, well, since day two.”

“Is that why Zach wanted her along at dinner?”

I frowned my eyebrows at him. “Yeah, of course. What did you think?”

“I thought Zach was into her. I mean, she’s kinda his type, isn’t she, and then he kept on asking her all kinds of stuff about her work and her life—he barely talked to either of us at all. I was sure he was into her.”

I shook my head and sat forward. “No, he was trying to keep the focus on her so you’d realize how great she was and pursue her.”

“God, and there I was, thinking—isn’t this great, Zach’ll come up here and pretend he wants to see Ash and me and he’ll really want to be with Wren, and I’ll have all this time with Ash practically all to myself.”

I suppressed a grin. “You thought that?”

“Yeah! I couldn’t believe my luck when we were made food partners, and then when I knew your brother ....”

“It was like destiny, baby.”

“Stop making fun of me.”

“Don’t sulk.”

“I’m not sulking.”

I moved to his lap and traced his lower lip. “What’s this, then?”

His arms came around my back. “Why don’t you come a little closer and find out?”

I did.

 

“You are just no good at talking,” I accused, sitting up and moving a cushion away from him. We had made it back onto the sofa.

“Mmnh.”

“I mean it.”

“I know.”

“I think you’re only interested in one thing.”

He sat straight and faced me. “Ash, no. That’s not true.” His eyes locked onto mine. “I swear. It’s not.”

Running my fingertips through his wavy hair, I said, “I believe you.”

“Do you? Honestly? Because I know I’m being a pig and you were so upset, you weren’t even going to come over here and I’ve just been wishing I could kiss you some more.”

I bit my swollen lips. “I honestly do believe you. But maybe I should get going. I mean, I just want to kiss you, too, but I also need to sort all of this out, and I’m just taking any excuse to avoid it.”

All he did was look at me, with a shadow passing across his eyes.

“You’re not just any excuse, Caleb.”

“We’ve only known each other two weeks.”

I sighed. “And we’re only here six more weeks, and Wren is here, too, and Lizzy is already mad at me because of you, and then there’s all this stuff with Gran.”

“Which I haven’t even asked you about.” He groaned. “I’m such a pig.”

“No, you’re not.”

“You’ll tell me if you think I am?”

“Oh, I’ll tell you all right.”

“Don’t laugh at me,” he warned.

“Man, you sulk easier than any guy I’ve ever met.”

He sank back against the sofa and wrapped his arm around me. “I’ll stop, I promise.”

“Okay, then.” I leaned into him. “Going back to Wren.”

“You’re relentless.”

“You’ll live.” I kissed his knuckles. “So, have the two of you talked about it at all?”

He shook his head. “I just, I don’t know, picked up a vibe?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“I don’t know. It’s not much good telling her I didn’t want for this to happen.”

“You didn’t?”

“Hey, relax. I do. I want it—this—whatever. You know what I’m saying. I’m glad.”

“But it hadn’t been your intention?”

I dismissed that first twitch of interest before I knew any dynamics, that first day. “No—she told me from the start she wanted you, and I wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone, so I never thought about it. Not until recently, anyway.”

“Every morning when I knocked on your door I had to stop myself from going in to wake you with a kiss.”

I kissed him then, to make up for it. And then again, for good measure.

“Do you think she’ll be angry at you? Or me?”

“Not at you. Hurt, maybe, I don’t know, pissed off. At me, she’ll probably be angry.” I sighed. “I’ll have to talk to her before Lizzy spills it.”

“She wouldn’t, would she?”

“She’s a wretched gossip.”

“True.” She loved to regale us with slanderous tales about Theo’s visits to Angelica’s cabin. “Does she know, then? What could she know?”

“She noticed a few things. She doesn’t know this.”

“So, if we just, I don’t know—keep a low profile?”

I nodded. “At least until I talk to Wren.” I looked at him. “Why weren’t you interested in her, anyway? I mean, she’s gorgeous and all.”

“You’re fishing.”

“No. Really.”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I did think about it, I mean, once I’d kinda noticed her looking at me and all.”

“And?”

He shrugged again. “I guess, I just thought she was a little—a little too wild? Too uneven, in a way.”

I rubbed my brow. “I’m not sure I get what you mean.”

“It could just be my perception. She laughs erratically, then goes quiet. Her pendulum’s off kilter. It’s not like she’s unbalanced, it’s just you’re so, you know, balanced.”

The last thing I felt was balanced. But it didn’t matter. The thing was, frankly, I wanted to make sure he wasn’t at all interested in Wren, so I wouldn’t feel guilty at having been chosen just from being in the right place at the wrong time. Of course, it was forty to one he wouldn’t have let on if he had been wavering between us, but I decided to take him at face anyway.

“So. What else did you want to tell me this morning?”

Shaking his head, he said, “That was it.”

“You said it was complicated.”

“Well, it was. Explaining it all would have been. But I don’t have to try and find out about her without telling you why, now. You know why.” He squeezed my shoulders. “But we can talk about all this later. Tell me what happened today?”

“I don’t know. It’s—it’s hard to explain.”

“Come on, Ash, give me a shot. I’m perceptive.”

“I know. I’m not doubting you. But you’re not family and it’s extremely personal and I don’t think I can even talk to Zach about it, so how could I talk to you?”

“Why not Zach?” He knew by now I told Zach pretty much everything.

“Because,” I sighed, “he’ll want me to talk to Bernadette and Frank first, instead of Gran. And Bernadette won’t hear anything against Pappa, any more than she would against Zach.”

“Okay,” he sat up. “So why do you have to tell any of them?”

“Because I do.”

“You know,” Caleb said, “this would be a lot easier to discuss if you told me what it was.”

I rotated his wrist so I could read the time. Ten to ten. My eyes were burning dry and tired, but the tips of my fingers drew fire out of his forearm and shot it up my veins. “Okay.” I stood and twisted my spine until it popped. Caleb winced. “I’m just going to be blunt. I’ve had a really long day. And I’ve been looking forward all week to sleeping in tomorrow. And I like you, but there’s some things about you and me we still need to talk about, especially so I can face Wren.”

Caleb arched one eyebrow. “Such as?”

“Things. Things like, what are your intentions. Things like, are you just hoping to sleep with me for the next month and a half and then move on back to whatever awaits you in California. Things like, are we going to make whatever this is clear to the rest of them, or sneak around and try to cover like Theo and Angelica did at first.”

“They weren’t any good at it.”

“Be that as it may be. What concerns me is, if I stay here talking to you about Gran and all, late into the night, I’m going to be too tired to go home, and you’re going to wake up early as usual and disturb me. Besides which, you may be the most gorgeous guy here but that doesn’t mean I’m just going to go and hop into the sack with you instantly.”

He tilted his head. “You are a chaste and good woman, Ash.”

“No, I’m not. I’d love to sleep with you. I’m practically aching to sleep with you.”

“Not helping,” he groaned.

“Well, it’s the truth. I said I’d be honest with you.”

“I know.” His eyes softened as he regarded me. “I guess there’s a couple of other things I want to talk to you about, too. Ask you about, I mean.”

“We will.”

“Good. Can I proposition you, for tonight?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” I felt like such a hard-ass. Or a tease. Something not appropriately demure and feminine, anyway.

“I have, darling. That’s the point.”

I smiled. “What is it, then?”

“You can say no if you want.”

I nodded.

“Okay. Can I grab a change of clothes and accompany you to ValeSong, where we can lay like chaste spoons in the dark and I will listen to you talk until you fall asleep. And in the morning I will slip out without waking you, and go to breakfast alone,” he pouted comically, “and when you are ready for company you can come by and I’ll make you coffee and we can talk in the light of day.”

The man had me almost in tears. He was so sincere and so sweet—and he may have been a photographer but he painted a beautiful picture. I decided it was a fair compromise between heart and mind, and we set off.

It was a warm, breezy night and I cracked open the window—not much of a habit in Texas where the skeeters take any chance they get and the heat is positively anthropomorphic. But the wire screen was tight against the sill and the air under the trees carried the river mist past my rooms. The katydids held a little concert, with only the occasional babble of water as an accompaniment.

I carried my flannel pajamas into the bathroom to change after Caleb washed up. I decided my face was entirely too red as I scrubbed at it, but it was ignoring my instructions to fade away. Apparently my fluttering chest is in better control of my tint than my brain; it was in the midst of being routed by my emotions. I took a deep breath and went back into my room.

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