Page 26 of Caught in His Sights

“Thanks, babe.” I take a sip, and a bead of cool liquid slides down my throat to catch in my collarbone.

Caleb turns to the officer. “If everything is settled, I’d like to take Oliver back to bed now.”

“Uh, yes, for now. Sorry for the disturbance.” The officer stands and extends a hand toward me. “Here’s my card, in case you need anything.”

I take it from him. “Thank you.”

Caleb walks the officer to the door. “I’d appreciate it if you kept this little visit on the down-low. We’d prefer the press not get wind of our relationship until we’re ready to make a public statement. I don’t want any unwanted attention from news channels scaring Oliver off.”

“Of course.” The officer nods in understanding. “I’ll do my best to keep the report under wraps.”

Caleb closes the door behind the officer, locking it before turning to me with raised brows. “Didn’t I tell you to stay upstairs?”

“Would you rather they searched your house?” I shoot back.

Expression softening, Caleb walks over to stand in front of me. “My lawyers never would have allowed it.”

“So you’re saying I flashed some skin for nothing?” I gesture to my exposed calves.

“Not for nothing.” Caleb bends to untie the shirt from around my waist, and he traces up my thighs, slipping beneath the hem of my boxers. “It’s good to know your first instinct is to protect me.”

My pulse quickens at his touch, and I instinctively spread my legs, scooting lower on the couch.

Nostrils flaring, Caleb leans down to kiss me just as the doorbell rings, interrupting our moment again.

“Dammit,” Caleb mutters under his breath, straightening back up. “That better not be more police.”

I hook my fingers in his belt loops. “Force them to come back with a warrant.”

He smooths a hand over the top of my head to thread through my black strands. “You begging for it is a nice look.”

“I’ve been begging for it.” I reach for his zipper. “Reward me.”

The hand in my hair tightens. “Don’t be greedy.”

A whine of protest leaves me as my hands drop to the cushion.

Caleb smirks as he pulls out his phone and stares at the screen. “It’s our groceries.”

“Leave them on the porch.” The bulge in the front of Caleb’s pants holds all of my attention. “They can wait.”

He shakes his head. “If you recall, you ordered four pints of ice cream.”

“Fine.” Defeated, I flop back on the couch.

Begging for it was the wrong choice, and now Caleb is in the mood to torment me again. I hate it and love it all at the same time.

A teasing grin plays over his lips as he heads for the door. “Go figure out where the movers put the skillet so we can make breakfast.”

My stomach rumbles, reminding me that I haven’t eaten since…lunch two days ago? I push myself up from the chair to go dig through Caleb’s cupboards.

I find the pans in a cabinet across the kitchen from the range, which is the wrong place for them. Obviously, they should be within easy-grabbing distance for the cook.

Caleb joins me with the bags of groceries and doesn’t comment when he catches me reorganizing where everything goes. Half the shelves are empty, so it’s clear he’s not a chef, despite the luxury appliances.

When he sets a stainless-steel skillet on the stove and reaches for the cooking spray, I shove him over to the island and set a mixing bowl in front of him. “You’ll ruin the pan like that. Crack the eggs while I handle this.”

He flips open the carton of free-range, organic eggs to reveal an eclectic mixture of blue, brown, and white. I hope more color means a better flavor than the ones I buy on discount. “How was I about to ruin the pan? The food will stick if you don’t grease it.”

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