17

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.”

“They’re gorgeous. Thank you for being so thoughtful, Caleb, as always.”

“You are gorgeous. Thank you for inviting me, Brooke. I—I really wanted more time with you before I leave. There’s so much I want to know about you . . . and experience with you,” he said.

I loved how Caleb’s eyes looked right now. The blue of them was intensified by his choice of clothing, and even the gold ringing the blue iris matched the color of the sweater he’d chosen. Beautiful eyes that penetrated right into my heart. Somehow Caleb had gotten inside my heart.

And that meant my heart was now in very grave danger of being hurt—which was the fucking terrifying part.

I led him inside to a bench seat where I was pulled in to rest my back against his chest as soon as we sat down and settled our things. He placed his chin on top of my head and took one of my hands in his. All of his gestures very sweet as he went about the business of touching me. Caleb seemed to need the touching as much as I did.

I felt warm and could smell the delicious scent unique to him enveloping me. I was being held by someone whose arms I wanted around me. All new experiences.

The hour-long commute would make me happy tonight.

Because Caleb would be holding me.

WATCHFULis how I would describe Caleb as we left the boat. He carried both bags as I led him to where the car was parked. It reminded me of shopping at Target with him actually. He didn’t use public transportation, and I’d only seen Isaac driving him around the city, so I imagined he was “learning” his way through this experience, too.

When I stopped at Woody and stuck my key in the lock to open up the back hatch, he paused—surprised—I was sure of it, before catching himself and stowing our bags inside. I doubted Caleb had ever been driven around in a car older than him before, but he didn’t say anything. He merely followed me to the driver’s side and opened the door for me after I’d unlocked it. Even though he was the passenger, Caleb did not forget his lovely manners. I had to pinch myself in the brief space of time it took for him to walk around to the other side and get in with me. Caleb was coming home with me. Caleb. Was. Coming. Home. With. Me.

Once we were both in, he turned toward me and said, “I need to do something first.”

“What’s that?”

He leaned over the console and took my face in his hands—a gesture I adored from him—and whispered, “This.”

Caleb kissed me senseless, deeply and thoroughly until I probably couldn’t remember my own name, let alone drive. His scratchy beard caressed around my lips as he pulled on the bottom one with his teeth, teasing me until I was a wet mess—ready to straddle him in a public car park. Seriously, the man was sexually dangerous, and all he’d done was put me in the car and kiss me.

“Careful, or I’ll never be able to drive us,” I murmured against his mouth.

“Sorry.” He backed off, but he kept one hand under my chin and rubbed his thumb along my bottom lip. “I’ve wanted to do that all day.” More with the beautiful, blue-with-gold-rings-around-them eyes studying me for a serious moment. “I’m okay now,” he said with his little-boy smirk. “We can go.” A beat or two of silence passed. “Where are we going?”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was so nice to not care about the awkwardness that much. We were going to have to figure it out somehow, but if Caleb kept up with being so adorable, it wouldn’t be a problem for me. “We are going to stop in for a quick visit to Nan at therapy, and then I’m taking you to the cottage where I’ll make us some dinner. After that, we can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want?”

“As long as it involves warm socks on my feet, I am game,” I answered wickedly.

“Uhmmmm . . .” he groaned lowly as he shifted in the seat. So he was feeling it, too . . .

Good.

Payback was fair play.

“NAN, I’ve brought a friend with me—someone who knows you well. Do you remember—”

“Caleb Blackstone, you may have grown taller, but I’d recognize your face anywhere. You look so much like your father when he was your age.” Nan’s face lit up, and she reached out her hand to him—which he took in both of his and held warmly.

“Mrs. Casterley, you haven’t aged a day. It’s so wonderful to see you again. Brooke tells me you are about to be released from here.” I watched him greet my nan after nearly a decade and marveled at how lovely he was with people. Especially people he clearly adored. Caleb possessed social skills in conversation that, sadly, were lacking in many people of our generation, so I was content to sit back and watch them get reacquainted. I knew Nan would pin me to the wall later and want to know what I was doing with a man like Caleb Blackstone, and I’d have to tell her something.

And what would that be? He treats me with respect, says he wants me, and makes me feel like the person I was before I made my terrible mistake. It was the truth, even if it scared me to believe it. She would be skeptical of his intentions toward me and probably ask him outright. She didn’t work for his family anymore, so she wouldn’t be censored by any sense of obligation to hold back her opinions from a respected employer, plus Nan was very protective of me now, especially after Marcus . . .

My inner reflections were interrupted when Herman strolled in with his own bouquet of autumn flowers in his hand. The Blackstone men were certainly blessed with romantic inclinations—something that probably served them very well when it came time for their women to show appreciation, like I was going to do as soon as I had Caleb alone in my cottage.

“Is that my nephew I see flirting with my girl?” Herman bellowed.

“Uncle Herman, I think some congratulations are due if I’m not mistaken.”

As I watched the two of them reconnect, I was struck by the similarity in body shape and bone structure. I knew why I’d told Caleb he reminded me of someone I knew living on the island. Blood didn’t lie and it was clearly evident they were related. If I didn’t know better, I would think they were father and son.

I overheard Caleb mention the Blackwater estate to Herman and watched the two of them go deep into conversation about it. He’d said he wanted to fix the situation of it being closed and the employees dismissed, so maybe he wanted Herman’s advice on the matter. It would be lovely to see Blackwater restored for some useful purpose if the family didn’t want it for holidays anymore. I hoped whoever bought the property had to consider its historic value beyond just an appraisal of house and land. I still thought it odd that he hadn’t known about it being shuttered and on the market. Didn’t his family communicate about something as important as a home that had been in the family for generations? Again, I had to shake my head at the problems of the rich . . .

“HERMANand Nan certainly enjoyed your visit this evening,” I said to him as I drove to the cottage over the twisty lanes I could navigate by the feel of the bumps and the turns.

“I enjoyed it, too. I’m really glad you brought me there tonight. Thank you.” He reached over and gave my thigh a squeeze as if just his words weren’t sufficient to express his thanks.

“Why so grateful, Caleb?”

He sighed before answering. “Well, I guess it has something to do with being ashamed of losing interest in things that should hold a higher place of importance to me. After I finished up at Harvard, I went off and immersed myself in work and business to the point I excluded pretty much everything else, even my family. I regret that now, because I know now I missed out on a lot of time with the people I care about.”

“It’s never too late to let them know how you feel.” I hesitated before telling him the rest of my thoughts. “When I saw you standing beside Herman tonight, I could clearly see the family resemblance between you. Very handsome men in the Blackstone gene pool I must say.”

“Thank you. It makes me happy you think so. I could say the same about you and your grandmother, though. You two look very much alike, and your voices sound similar. I can hear you talking in my head when she speaks.” He leaned over the console again and spoke against my neck. “And beauty is something you have in abundance in case I’ve failed to mention it before.”

He licked my neck, producing a shiver that shot straight down between my legs.

“Driving here, Caleb,” I scolded him. “Behave or the we can do whatever you want offer goes out the window.”

He just laughed softly into my ear before easing back into his seat. “I’ll behave then.”

When I pulled into the single garage, I could sense he was taking everything in again, back into learning mode. He quickly came around and opened my door for me. It was going to take some getting used to his mannerly gestures. I opened the back, and he carried in the bags to the front porch.

“This is it,” I said. “The cottage I will never sell as long as I live.” I busied myself with unlocking the door.

“It’s very charming. I imagine the view is spectacular out the back.”

“Oh, it is,” I said. “We can sit out there after we’ve eaten dinner. It’s lovely to see the lighthouse shining over the water even if it’s a bit chilly. We can bring a blanket.”

“Let’s do that then.” He spoke right up against my neck, pressing into me from behind. I could feel the hard length of his whole body. His impressive erection solidly against my arse, too. This attraction with Caleb was crazy.

Insanely. Wickedly. Crazy.

But, care—I did not. Not anymore. How could I have ignored the man? He had wooed me. I didn’t believe he had wooed me for sex, either. My experience was limited, but it didn’t feel like I was a conquest to him. Caleb was different in that way.

The key in the lock to my front door finally gave in to my attentions and turned. As it fell open, Caleb pressed us both forward. I heard bags dropping onto the floor along with my keys and the flowers—and then I was swallowed up by Caleb. I was lifted by strong arms that knew how to hold my body with care as he propped me up against the wall, and pushed in between my legs.

“Aaahhh,” I moaned when I felt the press of his cock against my clit. I was already moving my hips against him, desperately needing him inside. “Please, Caleb . . . I—I want you.”

“Sweet music to my ears, baby.” He slipped two fingers inside my knickers and started swirling them over my sensitive flesh. “Oh, fuck, you’re ready,” he said harshly before setting me down to stand on my own. “I have to put this on first.” He brought a condom packet out from his trouser pocket and shook it lightly back and forth.

I snatched it out of his hand and ripped it open. “Give me your cock.” I was all business in my request. Which was: give it to me now, Caleb.

He got the message. Thank. God.

Caleb had his zipper open and his cock presented to me in under two seconds. I could feel him watching me as I sheathed the part of him that would be deep inside me in another moment and gathered he was enjoying the show. I was all about efficiency, hurrying to finish my task. His hands were up my dress while I toiled with the condom, already tugging down my knickers and working them out over one boot, lest we waste time. I didn’t want to know why he was so skilled at the mechanics of sex, just grateful for his forward thinking.

I was lifted a second time, my back stationed flat to the wall, my legs split wide by his hips. I felt his hard shaft at my belly and nearly sobbed at the awareness of him so close. He was so big, consuming, and perfectly lovely. “Oh, God,” I groaned as he positioned the tip at my entrance and impaled me deep.

“Fuck, it’s good. You feel—” He lost the rest of his words as he dropped his mouth to mine and kissed me with the same zealous abandon he was giving me down below with his thrusting cock. It went on and on, both of us frantic and wild. Lost in the movements—seeking the blissful end of release. He pulled his mouth away and stared into my eyes as we fucked. It’s never been like this. It was beautiful and savage—it was filthy and precious. I willed my climax to take me because it all became too much, too close, too wonderful to process. “I want you to come all over my cock, baby. Go ahead.” His fingers found their way to my clit again and started circling. “Say my name, Brooke,” he said, his neck muscles straining from holding me up with only one arm.

I let go and felt myself fall over the edge into paradise . . . on the whisper of his name. “Caaleeeeb.” A whisper was all I could manage, because he wasn’t finished. He was watching me, and I was glad for it because I knew the look of ecstasy on my face had been formed by him. It was his handiwork.

I enjoyed watching the expression of pure pleasure appear when he came about a minute later.

He kissed me for a long time, our bodies merged up against the wall until it was time to surface back into reality.

Reality was an annoying bastard sometimes.

“BROOKEcan cook,” he said with his signature smirk, totally sweet and pleased with his little rhyming verse. He also seemed pleased with the French bread pizza I’d thrown together as we sat across from one another, the pretty flowers he’d brought me perking up in a vase of water between us.

“Yes, well it becomes a necessary skill when you live alone.”

“I live alone and I can’t cook,” he said.

“Yes, but you have the luxury of employing someone to cook for you, or do you eat out all the time?”

“I eat out about half of the time and usually because I’m traveling. When I’m not traveling, I like to stay at home as much as possible, which is probably the case with most people who have to travel a lot for work. You crave what you don’t have. Ann, my housekeeper slash cook, makes meals for me and freezes them with instructions, or if I tell her in advance, she’ll have something ready for me when I get home. Isaac is her husband, and they live in the same building on the floor below mine.”

The relationship was clear in my mind between Caleb and his staff. I saw it when he spoke to Nan. Respect. He didn’t see himself above Ann and Isaac, and seemed to appreciate their involvement in his world. I couldn’t help wonder if some of that had come from having Nan in his life. She was a strong woman, and although she would have known her place, she would have had a firm but loving hand with Caleb and his siblings. Of that I was certain. But I was curious now that I had access to this delectable man.

“What is your family like?”

He obliged me and seemed not to mind. I could tell Caleb loved his family with every word he spoke.

“My father was JW, John William, and he died of stomach cancer last year after a long battle.” I could see the strain in his expression as he held back his grief. I understood that all too well. “I took over his business interests when he got sick. My mother is Madelaine, formerly Lafarge, an old Boston family, before she married my dad. I’m the oldest, and I have two brothers and two sisters. My brothers are twenty months younger than me and identical twins: Wyatt and Lucas. Lucas is the one who lives here on the island year-round. He’s a game designer and created iInVidiosa, if that name rings a bell for you. He knew exactly who you were when I asked him who the girl named Brooke, living on the island with her grandmother, with an English accent, was.” He winked at me.

“Why does that not surprise me a bit? Your stalking tendencies at work.”

“His twin, Wyatt, lives in New York City and keeps pretty quiet about his activities. I think he doesn’t want our mom to know how he makes his money.”

“How does he make his money?” I asked.

“I suspect it might be in the video entertainment sector. Read that as soft porn, or the stuff they show in hotels. I can safely say he just owns the distribution companies, and is not involved in the production of films.” He drew one hand through his hair as if he was fidgeting. “I think. I’m not sure I really want to know.”

I laughed and agreed with him. “And your sisters?”

“Willow and Winter are also twins, but not identical. They don’t even look that much alike to me. Willow is blonde, but Winter’s hair is dark like the rest of us. They have the same eyes, though. Willow is a writer and she’s built up quite a following for her books. She’s even made the New York Times Best Seller list for her young-adult fantasy series, which is quite an achievement for someone at only twenty-four years old. She lives in Providence with her fiancé, Roger, who is a professor of history at Brown University.”

“W. R. Blackstone is her? I know the books, and I’ve read them all. She wrote The Empty Handed series. That’s so awesome, Caleb, you have a famous author in your family. I’d love to have her sign a book for me sometime.”

He smiled widely and I could tell he was very proud of her. As he should be. “I’ll tell her you’re a fan, and I’m sure she’ll send you some books. She interacts with her readers all the time.”

“I would be very honored.”

He took a sip of the wine I’d opened to go with my homemade pizza and seemed happy to be here with me. He should be happy, considering he’d been fucked and fed—and in that order. God, I was still tingly from the orgasm and wondered if he was thinking about it, too. He was so caring with me. I still couldn’t quite fathom how or why he kept pursuing me, but I realized now, it was good for me to do this with him. I’d needed some sexual healing, and Caleb was a very fine healer. I’d also needed emotional healing. Still . . .

After another smoldering look at me across the table, he continued, “Winter is finishing up her master’s in social work at Boston University, and I probably see her the most because she has an apartment in the same building as my penthouse. I’m sure the two of you will meet soon since you’ll be going over there for the renovation . . . and I hope just for the purposes of seeing me.”

Awww, the charm factor was back. “Of course I’d like to visit you there again, Caleb, and actually, I remember your sisters—Winter in particular.”

“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.”