Tangle of Tinsel

“Not if you keep doing that.”

He chuckles. “I think I can bring them to you.”

I’m getting off watching his large hands swallow my limbs. Unable to resist his magic fingers and the comfort he’s offering me, I relax, allowing his ministrations. The noises that leave my mouth should make me blush. But I’m enjoying it too much to care. My lids lower, and my nipples harden. I’m in trouble.

The phone rings, breaking the moment he created.

Clearing his throat, he stands. “It’s in your purse.” He brings it to me from the buffet table.

I groan at the name Mom flashing on the screen along with several texts from her.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Where are you? What happened? Why haven’t you called sooner? The hospital called and left me a message, and I’ve been waiting to hear from you since.”

“Crap. You’re my emergency contact. I completely spaced. I had a fall earlier and hit my head a little too hard. I ended up concussed.”

“And they let you leave?” she asks, fury burning in her delivery. “I’m going to get the next flight out.”

“Mom, no. I’m fine.”

“No, you aren’t. You need someone to look after you.”

“I have that.” I close my eyes and wait for the words to sink in.

“Oh.” Her tone changes.

Here we go. Time to walk the tight rope between truth and lies.

“Yes.” I peer at Caleb, who sits on the opposite end of the couch, feigning interest in a show he’s pulled up on the television. “A friend.”

“This is the first time I’m hearing about this mysterious friend.” My mom can read me like a book.

“I met him recently while I was shopping.”

“Him? You’re alone and vulnerable with a man you scarcely know?” I can hear the concern rising in her voice.

“Well, when you put it that way, I sound like an idiot.” I clear my throat. “It was his grandmother’s shop. Nona actually helped take care of me.” I’m insinuating and stretching the truth like a rubber band. I pray it doesn’t snap and sting me. If I’m lucky, Mom will let it go. “Can I fill you in tomorrow, Mom? My head is killing me.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” she says softly. “I’ll check in on you then.”

And give me the third degree about Caleb.

“Love you, Mom. Goodnight.”

“Love you, too.”

As soon as I’m off the phone, my stomach roars loudly.

“Since you’re awake now, it is the perfect time to warm up the lasagna and garlic bread. But first ...” He hands me the water bottle on the table and shakes two aspirin out into my hand.

“I hope you know you’re about to be smothered ... I mean grandmothered by Nona. She’s always wanted more grandchildren.” Smiling, he rises and walks away, leaving me a melted, confused mess.

How can the man infuriate me one minute and turn me on the next? Maybe I knocked a few screws loose? I hardly know the man. The situation is unusual and short-lived. Getting too invested is going to get me hurt.

“The food’s ready.”

Scooting to the end of the couch, I brace myself and push up. Stepping away from the sofa, I wobble, still off-kilter. Suddenly, Caleb’s in front of me, a solid mass of man, gripping my forearms.