One Step Closer(34)

Macy’s voice sounded from somewhere behind where Caleb sat on one of the leather sofas and she startled him. He jumped slightly, and then quickly began to fold the letter back up, not wanting her to see it.

“Nothing.” His voice thickened with emotion.

“Is it from your dad?”

Nothing annoyed Caleb more than redundant questions. Who else would it be from? When he didn’t answer, Macy pressed him.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” He cleared his throat, still holding the folded piece of paper in his right hand.

“Caleb, why won’t you talk to me?”

“Why? What good would it do? It won’t change anything.”

“True, it won’t bring your father back, but it might help you work through your feelings.”

Caleb huffed. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. It’s personal. Why do you want to know, anyway?”

He was agitated with the conversation as he refolded the letter, and folded it again; small enough to shove into the back pocket of his jeans.

Jonesy’s worry about Wren had dominated the conversation over dinner and echoed his own. He’d been preoccupied all evening, while Macy’s displeasure had been written all over her face on the couple of occasions that he’d voiced his concern. He should be grateful for her softer tone now, but he only wanted to be alone. If Wren wasn’t here, then alone was the next best thing.

He wished the few minutes he managed to himself would have lasted longer and Macy hadn’t tracked him down to start pelting him with a barrage of questions.

“You’re so distant. I don’t like it,” Macy continued, using one hand to pull through her long dark hair, now loose from the bun she’d worn it in earlier. Caleb wondered if she really gave a shit or she was bored out of her mind and just going through the motions.

The letter left him raw, and conjured up feelings toward his father he didn’t even realize still existed. Regret at the lost time and relationship they could have had, sure, but he was royally pissed at the same time. Turmoil had him all screwed up on the inside, and Macy’s nagging was the last thing he needed.

There were a few seconds hesitation before Caleb retorted, anger lacing his voice. ”That’s unfortunate, but not really a consideration.”

Macy was stunned for a beat, but then huffed in frustration. “Wow. That was a dick thing to say. I’m trying to help you, Caleb. I just want to make you feel better.”

Caleb had regret that his words may have hurt her, but then realized coming here was her own choice. He didn’t ask her to join him. “There’s nothing you can do, and I said; I’m fine. I have a lot to deal with, and I’m just preoccupied with everything that needs to be done. I told you not to come out here. There are some things that I have to do on my own.”

“Caleb,” Macy forced her voice to grow softer and more sympathetic even though his words pissed her off. She had no intention of doing anything to alienate this man. He was strong and beautiful, intelligent, and now to find he was heir to a huge cosmetic brand she’d used for years; made him close to surreal. She should have put two and two together. His last name, Lux Cosmetics; his hometown of Denver, the company being headquartered there; she couldn’t believe she didn’t figure it out before this.

Maybe she could convince him to give up his silly automotive venture and travel the world with her. Now that he was loaded, why would he want to work his ass off starting a brand new company from the ground up? “I thought we were close enough that you’d lean on me. You don’t have to be strong all the time.”

Caleb grimaced and huffed in agitation. “That’s who I am.”

He felt like his insides were about to explode. He didn’t like Macy pressuring him to talk about things he was still trying to reconcile in his own mind. And, if he were honest, she didn’t seem sincere. She was just digging for information he had no intention of sharing.

What was upsetting him? he wondered. Was it Macy’s prying, his father’s death, or the major decision hanging over his head? Was it Wren being in such close proximity, or the f*cking letter? Maybe, it was all of it.

He felt something, but he couldn’t really categorize it. He was pensive, anxious, his chest felt tight, but he was still trying to get his head around everything, and up to this point had been pretty much numb. He shook his head. Nothing had changed from ten minutes earlier, so why was he struggling? Sure, Edison Luxon had sired him; so what? He hadn’t been anything like a father for many years. Why should the small act of dying change anything? Why should a few paragraphs scrawled on a page make a difference?

“I know, but—” Macy began, but Caleb cut her off.

“You don’t know anything about how I feel, Macy.” He didn’t say it to hurt her, but it was the truth, and he wasn’t in the mood to sugar coat anything. “You’re clueless about my father and my life growing up.”

Anger reared inside Macy. Caleb was being an * and she wanted to tell him so. The problem with that was that it might drive a bigger wedge between them and that didn’t suit her agenda. She tried to calm herself.

“Why don’t you tell me, then? I know you have to be sad. Even if you hated him, he was still your dad.”

“An unfortunate fact I had to come to terms with long ago. DNA doesn’t make someone a father. He’s dead; there’s no use crying over someone who stood in the background of my life except when he was trying to make me miserable. Dying might be the biggest favor he’s ever done for me.” It was a sad reality, and Caleb’s defensive anger at the letter he’d just read was fresh. “So no. I don’t have to be anything; least of all sad.”