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  Odd that she would choose those words when that was exactly what he was feeling. Afraid, on multiple levels. Afraid that his need could overpower him, and her, and that she wouldn’t be able to trust him again. Afraid she wasn’t ready for this. But mostly afraid he wasn’t ready. Winsome was a nice girl, despite her abuse and heartache, truly a gentle, kind person, and over these past weeks, her opinion of him had come to matter more than he’d expected.

  Now it was worse. Now his brain was already leaping forward to how she would look at him after. Would she regret sleeping with him? Having even met him?

  He inwardly shoved the tragic thoughts aside. This was simply about two human beings connecting for comfort, or stress release, or whatever. It wasn’t a life-altering event. It was just sex.

  While the stress was almost more than he could take, his desire for her was more powerful. He reached out and undid the clasp at the front of her bra, watching in wonderment as the two halves parted, revealing the pale, perfectly shaped breasts beneath. He slid the straps down her arms and over her cast, then retreated momentarily while she removed her panties.

  “You are….” Cal shook his head. Dee had a great body, but wrapped in this quiet innocence, Winsome was so much…more.

  She smiled, sat on the edge of the bed, then moved to the center, and waited patiently as he fumbled ineptly with the drawstring on his sweats. Damn, he hadn’t been this nervous when he’d lost his virginity to Kelly Campbell at fifteen. He tried to kick his pants off, but his foot tangled in the fabric and almost sent him toppling to the floor.

  Ordinarily, Cal found no room for humor in the bedroom, but Winsome’s low giggle was just the right touch to help lighten the mood and ease his mind. Naked, hard, and anxious, he started toward the center of the bed. Immediately, Winsome spread her legs and reached down to grasp him. He stopped her with a gentle hand.

  “I’m going to need you to forget everything you thought you knew about sex,” he told her. “First things first.”

  He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, but saw the rise of color in her cheeks. Being the gentleman that he was, he covered her lips with his, savoring their sweetness while he slowed things down. Apparently, she was used to getting to the mechanics of the act without any regard for foreplay, but that just wouldn’t do. Not for her, and not for him. He wasn’t going to be cheated out of any aspect of making love to her.

  When he lifted his head, the sight left him breathless. Her dark, mysterious eyes were half closed, her lips, pouty and plump, were moist and glistening. He knew he would never forget every detail, or the feelings they invoked deep inside him. Feelings that, for now, were better shelved until later.

  He kissed her once more, then raised his palm to cup one of her beautiful breasts. She arched beneath him, pressing more firmly into his hand. Cal pressed his body against her as he kissed his way from her lips to her jaw, to her throat—where she released a gratifying purr—to her collarbone and beyond, across her ribs on her left side and down the length of her torso.

  Pausing at the apex of her thighs, he looked up at her. She nipped her bottom lip and shifted her hips, her gaze burning into his. Cal moved forward to his goal, and she cried out at the initial shock of such intimate contact. Her fingers seized the sheets, yanking them up several inches as she wriggled her hips, before she relaxed her grip, and pressed her lower back into the mattress. Cal slid his hands under her buttocks, raising her slightly for better access, and pressed his mouth to her again, continuing his ministrations. In just a minute, she was panting, this time clutching his hair and shoulders, as her head tossed side to side.

  Satisfied she was fully aroused, he withdrew and began his return, leaving searing, deliberately placed kisses across her hip, side, breast and throat until he recaptured her mouth. Winsome moaned and writhed as she tipped her hips up toward him, almost driving him over the edge with her unspoken plea for release.

  But one more thing needed to be in place before he could appease her desire and his. He reached over to his nightstand, yanked the drawer open and felt around for one of the small foil packets he’d brought from Dee’s. He hadn’t dreamt he’d need them, but couldn’t see throwing them away.

  “I didn’t bring these thinking—”

  She nodded rapidly.

  “I mean, I wasn’t planning—”

  “I know, I know,” she said, huskily.

  He didn’t protest or hesitate any longer. He got the condom on in record time, pulled her against him and rolled to his back, allowing her to position herself over him. It was important to him that for their first time at least, she feel in control.

  Holding himself at her entrance, he took her by the hips and held still while she sheathed him inside her with one long, steady movement. A guttural groan of pure pleasure emanated from one of them, most likely her, since the air was trapped in his lungs as she clamped tight around him. Her body bowed backward, then forward, reminding him of a beautiful flower bending in the wind. When she looked directly into his eyes with a disarming half-smile, it was almost his undoing, but his large hands gripped her small, taut butt and helped guide her up and down at his pace now, necessary to prolong his release.

  She rode him for several minutes, her moans coming in waves now, each more powerful and louder than the one prior. Cal’s body was rock hard from his shoulders to his calves, locked in delirious anticipation of what was to come.

  At last her body shuddered, her eyes closed lightly, her mouth parting in near silent gasps and she rocked against him, around him. She leaned across his chest, her hair spilling forward, a curtain of soft, fragrant rain, encapsulating him in this ethereal realm he was surely in, for no earthly place could feel like this.

  Cal raised his head to take her mouth one last time, and though he tried to be gentle, there was no preventing his fingers from gripping, digging into the delicate flesh of her hips as he met his end and sailed through the glorious wave of gratification right behind her.

  ****

  Winsome collapsed on top of him as warmth continued to flood through her system, making her limbs and torso feel weighted and immoveable. Her heart pounded against his, and her breath began to slow to a normal current, but her mind raced with disjointed thoughts. She’d had sex with Caleb. And she’d known him less than a month. She felt reckless, irresponsible. Wonderful! It might be her romantic nature daring to poke its head through the mire of despair it had been buried in for so long, but she was certain he felt it too, like this act had been a long time coming and meant more than either of them could verbalize right now.

  His fingers were long and strong, and stroked her shoulders, administering delightful chills down her arms. When she raised her head enough to look at him, he was smiling. Grinning, actually, ear to ear. For some reason, her lip started to tremble.

  “Oh, shit, Winsome….” Caleb dipped to the left, dumping her on the bed next to him. “Did I hurt you? What is it?”

  He came up on his elbow and brushed the hair back from her face, his own wearing an anguished expression. She felt like an idiot. Inside she felt great, but tears stung her eyes. She grasped his arm and tried to smile.

  “No, Caleb, I’m fine. Really,” she added, when he looked at her uncertainly. “It was great, I feel great, and I have no idea why I’m nearly crying.”

  She chuckled at the absurdity of the situation. He didn’t.

  “The last thing I wanted to do was upset you,” he said, still stroking her hair, her arm.

  She shook her head. “It’s not you, I promise I’m not upset. Lately I have all this extra emotion I don’t know what to do with, so it kind of leaks out here and there. I think it’s an effect of PTSD. The doctor at the hospital warned me about it. He said my emotions might be a little…disproportionate or unbalanced.”

  She shouldn’t have said unbalanced, she should have said topsy-turvy. Unbalanced sounded like off-balance, as in mentally. Though topsy-turvy sounded like a phrase someone might say to make unbalanced sound
better. Giving up, she sighed.

  “He gave me a number to get help when I’m ready.”

  Winsome looked at him. Really looked. Concern was foremost on his face, but what a face. Strong, but not overpowering features, firm, but pliable lips that she was quickly learning she loved kissing, and that sexy scar under his chin….

  With a secret giggle, she closed her eyes and did what she’d wanted to do the night they’d sat together on her bed. She leaned up and kissed his neck. Caleb looked down at her, a glint of desire already present in his light eyes. He tried to smile.

  “You sure you’re all right?” he asked.

  “Yes. Just a little overwhelmed,” she said.

  What girl in her place wouldn’t be? Used to being beaten, degraded and neglected, and now she’d been passionately, somewhat-tenderly, made love to by a caring man who made her feel wanted and safe. It made total sense, and had nothing at all to do with the peculiar fluttering sensations in her stomach.

  He nodded and kissed her firmly on the mouth before getting up and heading to the bathroom. Her eyelids started to feel heavy and began to close. She went with it, sinking further into sleep, and further into Caleb’s bed.

  CHAPTER 14

  Cal sat at the kitchen table, one palm flat on the hard wood surface, the other absently cruising the day’s growth of stubble on his chin and cheek. Winsome was asleep in his bed and he was down here fretting instead of curled up next to her. What was wrong with him? He’d held her, kissed the top of her head, listened to her breathing become slow and even, and instead of letting himself drift off with her, had come down here to make himself crazy.

  In bed, she was everything he’d tried so hard not to allow himself to consider she might be, but had anyway. Responsive, giving, hot and sweet. Outside of the bedroom, she was even more. Sensitive, compassionate, kind, loving….

  It was that last part that got him. He strongly suspected that she was falling in love with him. He couldn’t pinpoint any one moment that gave it away, but he felt it. The same way he felt himself falling. It was just there, in his heart and mind. In his soul, if he had to admit it. Thanks to Aunt Ruth setting him up—and that’s what she’d done—Winsome was part of him now and there was nothing he could do about it.

  He sipped his water and continued to stare at the same spot on the wall he’d been looking at for half an hour. Everything should be great, right? He’d escaped an emotionless relationship, and now had a fantastic woman he loved. He’d lost his Aunt Ruth, but had this amazing house, a job he still enjoyed, and friends who cared about him. Instead of relishing the feeling of gratitude for what he had, he was suddenly slammed with the realization of how much he had to lose.

  Maybe his aunt had been right all those times she’d called him sullen and determined to be miserable. He shook his head even though his accuser couldn’t see. He wanted to be happy, really, he had just never been before. Until now. At least he could be if he could get past this feeling that Winsome wasn’t his to keep. That circumstances would change and she would be gone.

  Not if she had her treehouse, he reasoned quickly. Opening her own shop could be great incentive to keep her planted right here. He knew in his heart that was what Aunt Ruth had had in mind, too, and who was he to argue with a wise woman? Crafty and sneaky and underhanded, but wise.

  A thud nearby drew his attention and he turned to see Winsome hopping up the hall, wearing nothing but panties, grasping one foot, softly muttering her versions of curses— “Shoot. Lousy B.”

  His body responded to the sight of her beautifully sculpted form, even contorted in ridiculous angles as it was presently. His heart responded to so much more. It was unnerving to find it pounding when she looked up at him. She might have a clipped wing, but this wounded bird was no longer a victim. Now she was strong. Strong enough to bring him to his knees if she asked it. It was humbling to believe himself already there.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  Winsome’s face went from scowl to smile and she dropped her foot to the floor, straightening. “Stubbed my toe.”

  “You know cursing at inanimate objects doesn’t help, right?”

  “Well, it doesn’t take the pain away, but I receive some kind of sick gratification from it. Almost like payback.”

  Cal chuckled and reached over to take her hand and pull her to him. He stopped her about two-feet away, just to look at her. She had put on a couple pounds and no longer looked malnourished. She nipped the corner of her lip and looked down at the floor, seeming to just now realize that she was almost naked.

  “You’re beautiful, Winsome,” he said, his voice quiet in hushed reverence. She gave a non-committal shrug. “Really.”

  His eyes locked with hers and he pulled her the remaining two feet to stand between his legs. Wrapping his arms around her waist, he brought his head to rest on her breastbone. He could have stayed this way for hours, just feeling the rise and fall of her soft flesh against his cheek, breathing in the subtle scents of body wash from an earlier shower still clinging to a warmed body, fresh from loving.

  It took only seconds for her to rest her forearms on his bare shoulders and bring one hand to the back of his neck, the other to his upper back. Another for him to feel the tender press of her lips on top of his head as she played with his hair. It had been his intention to keep their interlude physical, strictly about sex and nothing more. He was an idiot. He tightened his grip just a little, feeling the beat of her heart on his ear. It was fast, like a small animal. Apparently, she wasn’t as calm as she was leading him to believe. He pulled back and looked up at her.

  “Are you nervous about something? Your heart is beating like crazy,” he said.

  “I’d be nervous if it wasn’t,” she joked, with that twinkle in her eye he was coming to adore.

  But he didn’t smile with her. “What’s wrong?”

  She parted her lips to speak, but closed them again and flipped her palms over. “Nothing really. It’s just new. I always get a little anxious when I’m facing something different. Exciting.”

  Cal moved his hands to her hips and looked into those wishful, trusting eyes. “That’s not it. Tell me what’s wrong.”

  Her bottom lip trembled slightly, but brave girl that she was, she stopped it and raised her chin.

  “I just don’t want you to think us sleeping together means we’re…together…like…a couple, or whatever. I mean, we talked about it before, but now that we’ve done it, I don’t want you to worry that it’s changed. It doesn’t have to, not for you, and if you regret what we did, or don’t want to—”

  “Regret?” he interrupted.

  “Yeah, you know. I’m not holding you to anything—a relationship or anything,” she stammered.

  “No?”

  She shook her head, wide-eyed. “I don’t expect…commitment or something,” she told him, waving and turning her hands nervously.

  Cal tipped his head up and brought hers down for a kiss. It tasted of sweetness and insecurity. But it wasn’t time for kissing. That would most assuredly lead to other things, and he had to clear something up first.

  “Sit down,” he said. “I want to talk to you.”

  Winsome looked at the empty chair and shook her head. “I don’t have any clothes on.”

  “So?”

  “So, I can’t have a serious conversation sitting naked in a chair.”

  “Then sit here,” he answered, pulling her onto his leg.

  Her bare flesh felt like branding heat through his sweats. Heat he could already feel radiating to other areas of his anatomy. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea. At this rate he wouldn’t get to the conversation.

  “You know what? You’re right. Why don’t you put something on first?”

  He stopped himself from watching her walk away, and got up to get a bottle of water from the fridge. As he held the door open, he was impressed by something he’d noticed earlier, but dismissed. The neatness and order inside. The same with the cabine
ts, and now that he thought of it, every room Winsome had been in was somehow different.

  Aunt Ruth had been clean, but her waning years had kept her from being as diligent about some things. He ran his hand across the gleaming refrigerator top, glanced around to the shiny metal sink and crisp white dish cloth hanging over the sparkling faucet. Winsome had been tending to his home almost from the first day of her arrival—not that he expected her to—and he hadn’t noticed. Nor had she drawn attention to it, or demanded he appreciate her. If Dee rinsed a spoon she wanted full credit for it.

  Winsome came back into the room wearing a pair of yellow shorts and a gray hoodie. His gray hoodie. Just seeing her in his clothes caused something to break open inside him spreading something akin to peace through his veins. She sat down, hands folded in her lap, shoulders tensed, looking like she was awaiting a verdict. Cal sat next to her, wanting so much to kiss her, but that would only distract him.

  “First, I have to tell you something you might not understand,” he said.

  She stiffened her spine and raised her chin. Lord, she was cute.

  “The only regret I have concerning what happened tonight is that it didn’t happen last night,” he said, plainly. “And every night before. And every morning and afternoon,” he added.

  Her teeth lightly scraped her bottom lip as she blinked up at him.

  “I wasted a lot of time when we could’ve been….” He paused, and rubbed a hand over his face. “I guess it all happened the way it was supposed to, but it would have been nice to have been making love to you this whole time. Fantastic, actually.”

  Try as he might, he couldn’t prevent the smile from overtaking his face. Winsome drew one side of that sumptuous bottom lip between her teeth. When she released it, it was moist and just begging to be kissed, but he held back.

  “As for not holding me to a relationship….” Cal nodded. “I see where you might be wary about that, with what you’ve been through.”