Page 73 of Inseverable (Carolina Beach)

“Trin . . .” he says.

I don’t wait for him to say more. “I love you, Callahan.” I bend to kiss his lips. “I love you.” My lips move to his neck. “I love you so much.”

I remove my shirt. The rest my clothes follow between my kisses and whispers of love.

My lover has known too much pain.

From this moment on, I only want him to know pleasure.

Chapter Twenty-four

Callahan

“Hi.” Trinity draws out the word as she greets me with a bright smile, and lifts up on her toes expecting a kiss.

She laughs when I shove the flowers in my right hand in front of her. I don’t keep my hands to myself when we’re alone, but here at her parents’ home is a different story, at least for me. She doesn’t share my traditional thoughts, and now following several suppers with her folks, she’s even more affectionate around them.

“Now, how am I supposed to have my way with you with these pretty little things rammed between us?” she teases.

“You’re not,” I say, pretending to be annoyed, but unable to hide my grin. “Besides, these are for your momma.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet.”

I bring my other arm around. “These are for you.”

She beams when she sees the yellow roses I hand her. I don’t tell her I picked them because they remind me of sunshine and make me think of her. Men don’t say shit like that. At least not men from Texas.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you.”

She flings her arms around me. I allow her kiss, but I don’t let it linger. She giggles when I turn my head, to keep her tongue far from mine.

“You sure you aren’t a virgin?” she purrs against my ear. “I promise not to tell anyone if you are, cross my heart.”

I groan. “If I was, I think you took care of business a long time ago.”

“Hey, Daddy,” Landon calls when he sees us, a big grin planted on his face. “Callahan’s in the foyer fondling your little girl. Want me to get the shotgun?”

“Already have it,” Owen barks from the back.

Trin neither blinks nor loosens her hold around me, even when I try to pull away, choosing instead to rise to my defense. “He’s not fondling me. I’m fondling him!” she hollers back. “But Landon’s being rude and interrupting. Momma, shouldn’t you send him to his room or something?”

“Christ,” I mutter.

The last few nights we’ve had supper, Owen has been exceptionally quiet, and so have I. I suppose our talk on the first night we met, and then my long talk with Trin the next day, took us to a place neither of us enjoyed revisiting. If it weren’t for Miss Silvie’s quiet interjections and Trin and Landon going at it nonstop, supper would be more silent than church on Monday.

Trin pouts when I ease away. “Fine,” she pouts. “But you’d better make it up to me tonight.”

I give her a knowing wink, letting her know that’s exactly what I plan to do. She pauses, to give me one of her more nymph-like stares before leading me through the foyer and across the house.

We step onto the terrace where her father’s sitting at the table . . . cleaning his shotgun.

For the first time, he smiles when he sees me. “Hello there, son,” he says. “How you doing this evening?”

“Fine, sir.”And please don’t shoot me in front of your daughter.

Landon comes up behind me and claps my shoulder. “Look a little nervous there, cowboy. You all right?” He plops down next to his father, a big shit-eating grin spreading along his face.

Miss Silvie appears then, placing a basket full of wet sheets at the other end of the patio table. “Hello, Callahan.”

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