Big Man's Bride (Big Men Small Towns 1)

My heart rebels against that thought. It doesn’t feel that way between us. It feels like so much more than that. What started off as a tension-filled business arrangement has blossomed into … a life. I’m falling for Caleb Staunton. Hard. And there is basically no way that I’m not going to shatter into a million pieces when we go our separate ways.

This was always the risk of course, but I thought that it would be easier. I didn’t know how charming he would be or how honest and real. But now, when I look at him, I don’t see the awful rich boy who stole my grandfather’s legacy. I see a man whose first instinct is kindness. Who thinks about me and goes out of his way to try to make me happy.

God, I am so fucked.

Standing in the door of our bedroom, I can’t do it. Everything has been so delightfully easy, but I can’t climb into that bed and wait for him to come find me knowing what he thinks of me now. It’s too painful. What is it going to be like with his parents if he doesn’t even want to be seen with me at a restaurant in Nashville? No. I need to start distancing myself so that I’m not just a broken shell at the end of this.

Even though I want to stay. I’ve grown used to the comfort and warmth of Caleb’s body as I sleep. The easy way he throws his arm over me like I belong there. Like I belong to him.

Caleb likes to touch me even when he doesn’t realize that he is doing it. When he’s completely asleep, his thumb moves in tiny circles on my skin. I find that touch soothing. Or when he reached for me and pulls me into his embrace in the middle of the dream.

He hasn’t had any other nightmares since I started sleeping in his room, and I wonder if it’s because I’m there by his side if he reaches out for me. The idea that I make him feel safe sends warm tendrils down through my body.

I cut off the feeling. I can’t let myself indulge in it if he doesn’t feel the same way. No chance in hell.

So I change into my pajamas and go to the guest room, which feels painfully empty and lonely even with the new furniture we’ve moved in and the homey touches that I tried to add.

Even the bed feels colder in comparison to the one in the master bedroom, but I know that I’m projecting that a little bit. This is for the best. It is. I left Caleb downstairs reading and he promised that he’d come up soon, but he will see, and hopefully understand.

Turning off the bedside lamp, I turn away from the door and the light shining beneath it like a beacon back to the warmth and safety of everything that I want, and I try to drift off.

Every thought that surfaces, I brush it away and just let myself sink into sleep. But it doesn’t come easily. Finally, after what feels like hours—though I’m sure isn’t—I can feel it. My mind and body sink it sleep, and I am so relieved.

A sudden noise makes my heart pound, and I sit up as the bedroom door opens roughly. I’m disoriented. Maybe I was asleep for a second. But all I see is Caleb, silhouetted in the door. Flipping on the lamp, I see the devastated expression on his face.

He’s breathing hard, trying to fight off some kind of panic. His eyes look hollow like they looked that night—the way they look whenever he’s fully overcome with memories. I can’t send him away. Not when he’s looking at me like that.

I hold my arms out to him, and he comes to me.

He’s naked, and hot. Almost feverish. So warm in the cold of this bed that it’s absolutely welcome. He’s always welcome.

The kiss he presses to my lips is harsh and desperate, but it’s not the same as the wild, animal sex that we had in the midst of the nightmare, but it’s also not the sly kisses he uses to seduce me. This is raw. Full of emotion. I can’t help but respond to that emotion and pull him closer.

This is why I should send him away. I can’t imagine a time when my body won’t sing for him, picking up the song that he chooses and playing the harmony. It’s as natural as breathing. He responds to me, too. It echoes back and forth between us until neither of us remember what the original song was.

I’m wearing soft pajama bottoms and a camisole, but the camisole is lifted over my head by Caleb, who instantly seals his mouth against my skin. It’s at once fast and slow. Impossible.