Page 15 of Cautious

Despite swapping phone numbers, I haven’t seen or heard from Callie since dropping her off on Saturday. She was quiet on the drive back to her place. Though I didn’t really know her yet, I could sense something was bothering her. The guys had picked up on it too when she said goodbye. Her adorable sassiness was muted, and her cheerfulness felt forced.

Running the risk of pissing her off, I asked Marcus to run a check on her. She might be pissed, but something tells me that all is not well with her. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s to be prepared for the worst.

Now it’s Friday night, one week to the day that Callie knocked me on my ass. I’m taking her out for the date she promised me, even if I have to carry her out the door myself. I knock and wait, part of me expecting her not to answer. Thankfully, I hear the lock disengage. I smile when she pulls the door open, but it freezes on my face when I take a look at what she’s wearing.Fuck me. She’s dressed in a knee-length, white sundress with short, ruffled sleeves that give it a sweet and innocent vibe. Or, at least, it would have if it wasn’t for the plunging neckline that clearly shows my girl is not wearing a bra.

I’m pretty sure my brain short circuits for a moment as I stand there open-mouthed, staring at her. I trail my eyes down her body to the tan leather strappy sandals that wrap around her ankles and slim calves and move them slowly, all the way up to her beautiful face that only shows the lightest hints of makeup. Her hair is sleek and smooth, hanging down her back in a sheet, and her amber eyes are fixed on mine as she nervously bites her lip.

I hear roaring in my head as my blood rushes south of the border. A primal feeling of possessiveness floods my systems as I crowd her. Twisting her body, I push her against the door and lean over her as she looks up at me with those gorgeous eyes of hers. I press my hard cock against her stomach, not hiding how happy I am to see her or the effect she has on my body. I slide my hand into her hair and before she speaks, slam my mouth down on hers. Jesus Christ, she’s killing me with this cherry Chapstick.

I’m not gentle as perhaps I should be, but she should know right from the start what kind of man I am. If I see something I want, I take it. And what I want right now is this woman.

She makes a noise of protest as I pull away, making me smile at her lazily.

“Does this mean you like my dress?” she asks breathlessly.

“The only way this dress could look better would be if it were lying on my bedroom floor tangled up in my jeans,” I tell her honestly, knowing if we don’t leave right this second, that’s going to happen sooner rather than later.

“Wow,” she whispers, making me grin.

Callie can talk a mile a minute until I kiss her, and then it’s like she gets lust drunk. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t make my dick hard having that kind of power over her.

“Come on, before I forget I’m trying to be a gentleman. Lock up, and let’s get this show on the road.”

She doesn’t argue, still dazed from that hot-as-fuck kiss. She grabs her keys and phone before snagging a denim jacket from the hook beside the door. After she locks up, I take her phone and keys from her and slide them into my pockets before helping her into her jacket.

“I can put them in my pockets—it’s fine,” she protests as I take her hand and walk her to my car.

“I know, but I got you. Don’t worry.” I’m a helpful guy. I’m also not going to give her any means to escape if she tries to disappear on me tonight, not after the way she avoided me all week.

I take her to the newly opened steakhouse, thanking the waitress as she shows us to our table in the back near the window with a gorgeous view of the lake.

“Wine?” the waitress asks. I look at Callie, who politely declines, ordering water instead. I follow suit.

“So, Callie, tell me what brings you to our little town,” I ask the innocuous question but notice immediately when she tenses. Shit, red flag number one.

“I just wanted a change of scenery, you know. Get away from the hustle and bustle of big-city living,” she says with a strained smile. “What about you? Your grandmother told me you were in the army,” she questions, not realizing she has just hit her own tender spot.

“Erm… yeah. I signed up right out of high school. I was so ready to spread my wings and fly.” I shake my head sardonically, not regretting my decision to sign up but wishing I could go back in time and warn my younger self of the realities of war.

Some wounds never heal, but my eighteen-year-old self thought I knew it all. I went away with stars in my eyes and came back with scars on my heart. But at least I came home. Not everyone was that lucky.

“What about your parents?” I ask, desperately needing to change the subject. I watch as a veil drops over her eyes. Red flag number two. Jesus, am I going to spend this whole evening dodging minefields?

“I don’t talk about them. Ever. I’m sorry, it’s a sore subject. How about you?” she asks before thanking the waitress returning with our drinks.

I hope Marcus comes through with his search because, at the moment, I feel like everything I say is wrong. I’m going to blow this thing before we’ve even had a chance to explore it.

“My parents both died six years ago while I was still deployed. My dad fell asleep at the wheel and drove off the road into a ravine. They were missing for four days before anyone found them.” I swallow the words, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

“Jesus, Blake, I’m so sorry,” she gasps, reaching over and wrapping her small, delicate hand over mine. I turn my hand and lock my fingers with hers briefly before she pulls away.

“It’s fine. It was a long time ago. We weren’t close, not that we ever fell out or anything. I was just their ‘oops’ baby. They were so helplessly in love with each other that they often forgot they had a child to love too.” I shrug.

It’s not that I was unaffected by their death, but we never had the bond most families did. I take a sip of my water, surprised that I shared that shit with her.

“Everyone always thinks that because parents are adults, they must have their shit together. Nobody ever realizes that the kids are often the ones left picking up the pieces of their parents’ fuck-ups and indiscretions,” she says before opening her menu and burying her head, effectively shutting down the conversation.

Red flag number three. There are so many things I want to ask her but watching her pull back her emotions even as I see thesheen in her eyes makes me want to wrap her up in my arms and never let go. How can someone seem so strong and yet so fragile at the same time?

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