Page 21 of Cautious

“You don’t even need to ask. I have my book in my bag. I’m going to sit out there on the porch and read until you get back.”

I lean forward, place a kiss on her cheek, and squeeze her shoulder. “Thank you,” I whisper, and I’m not just thanking her for staying.

“Boy, don’t you know I’d do just about anything for you?”

“If she asks, make sure you let her know you went home and came back,” I tell her, remembering my conversation with Callie about my grandmother not being here anymore. I don’t want Callie to think I lied to her, and that my grandmother was sitting down here all along listening to us.

As if she knows where my thoughts have gone, she laughs, “I’ve been having sex far longer than she’s been alive. Not much shocks me anymore.”

I manage to hold back my gag, but only just. “Nope, I don’t need to hear this.” I shake my head, but she just frowns before swatting me away.

“If you don’t want me to talk about it, then don’t do it close enough for me to hear your name being called in the throes of passion. Nice work, by the way, she seemed satisf?—”

I cut her off before I throw up my dinner. “Lalalalalalala, not listening to any of this. Love you, I’ll see you later.” I rush outside like my ass is on fire. Climbing into my car, I look up to the room Callie’s sleeping in.

She has been under my skin since the first moment I laid eyes on her but hearing her today tugs on places in my heart I had thought died long ago. What started as something fun is rapidly turning into something more, and I’m man enough to admit I don’t know if I’m ready. Opening myself up to someone after everything I’ve lost is far more than I ever anticipated. I hold back the dark parts of my life, even though I know I’m hurting her by doing it. But Callie has been touched by darkness too much for me to consider shrouding her with mine.

I drive back to the office on autopilot, my thoughts still very much on Callie. Pushing through the door to the office, I find the main reception area deserted with the exception of Kellen, who is on his laptop at my grandmother’s desk. He looks up with a frown when I enter.

“Everything okay? You tore out of here like the hounds of hell were on your heels,” he states as I walk over to the thankfully-full coffee pot.

“Yeah.” I don’t offer up anymore, but Kellen stares at me, waiting, and I know the stubborn fuck won’t back down until I give him something more than that.

“June let it slip to Callie that I ran a check on her. She wasn’t happy,” I admit.

“Hmm… I get that. I know you meant well, but if you flip the tables, I can’t imagine you liking her digging into your history so soon after meeting. Plus, you took away her opportunity to tell you. I’m sure, given her history, trust is a big issue for her, and because of the way you went about things, her trust in you has taken a blow,” he explains, reminding me of all the ways I’ve fucked up.

“Jesus, don’t hold back, will ya,” I answer him with a glare.

He shrugs, not fazed by my anger. “When have you ever known me to pussyfoot around? I’m just calling it like I see it.” He slaps me on the shoulder before grabbing his laptop and heading back toward the office.

“I have faith in your Casanova skills, boss. I’m sure it’s nothing a little groveling and a grand gesture won’t fix.” He leaves me to consider his words.

I can’t say I wouldn’t do it again if given a second chance. I had to know if she was in danger or running from someone, especially with her living next door to my grandmother, but I could have asked her. At the very least, I could have been upfront about the search I did right from the start. Instead, I kept quiet and now the trust we have built between us has sustained a blow.

“Fuck,” I grumble, sipping on my coffee as I mull over Kellen’s words.

Groveling and grand gestures. Do multiple orgasms count?I’m sorry I fucked you over, but here let me fuck you over the table until you forget what a dick I am.

Shaking my head, I finish my drink and place my cup on the counter before making my way back to the breakroom. Thinking of grand gestures is hurting my brain, and something tells me that’s not Callie’s style. Now groveling, on the other hand, I’m sure she would appreciate. If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it. Anything to get me back in her good graces.

All the guys are in the break room, but nobody asks me any questions when I enter, so I’m guessing Kellen has filled them in.

Thankful that I don’t have to go over it again, I pick up the file on top of the pile scattered around the table and thumb it open.

“Matilda Carson?” I question. Her name sounds familiar.

“Former child star turned Hollywood darling. She disappeared from the public eye two years ago after she was attacked. A man named Andrew Summers was convicted even though she was unable to identify him. He admitted to stalking her first, his obsession convincing him that they were in a relationship,” Arlo tells me from memory.

The man is like an encyclopedia. His ability to read something and recall it at will makes him a huge asset here.

“That’s rough. So, what, he got out already?” I don’t know the ins and outs of the case, but the sad fact is cases like this don’t always come with a lengthy jail sentence fitting the crime committed.

“No, he’s still locked up. But it seems despite her keeping a low profile, Matilda has, somehow, snagged the attention of someone else,” Arlo replies.

“Fucking hell. She can’t catch a break, can she?” Kellen mutters, taking the file from me.

“What are the police saying?” I question.

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