One Step Closer(45)

“Where are we, Caleb?” She shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t crying, but she wasn’t happy. Her face said it all, even in the dimness of the room.

“No clue,” he said without hesitation. “I might have to stay in Denver for a while. The start-up may have to take a backseat until I get my head around everything.” He took another drink, draining half the bottle.

“But, this inheritance is the answer, Caleb. You’ll sell everything then have more than enough money to start your firm. It solves everything. Right?”

Caleb was shirtless as he stood there, tall, cut, and unmoving until he set his empty bottle down and bent to get another beer from the fridge. Her words should have been expected, but he was still surprised. “Don’t you want to do your job, now?” he asked, unable to keep the slight tinge of sarcasm from his tone.

Macy walked toward him and leaned on the bar, her eyes dark and imploring. “That’s not what I meant. The design firm is your dream. Now you can have it without owing anyone. That’s all.”

He ran a hand through his mop of hair. It was short on the sides and the back, but the top was longer. “No, that’s not all. Not even close.”

Caleb backed up to lean on counter by the sink of the wet bar. He wanted to keep the Italian marble bar top, that Macy was almost sprawled across, between them. She shook her head and shrugged slightly. “Then, what?” she asked, until it dawned on her, incredulity showing on her pretty face. “You have to take care of your little sister? Is that it?”

Caleb huffed angrily. “Wren is not my sister. How many times do I have to f*cking say it?”

“But, it has to do with her, doesn’t it.” Macy stated. It had to be some sort of misguided loyalty Caleb felt for the young woman. “Like how?”

Caleb struggled with how much he was willing to share with Macy. He’d already settled that it was none of her business, but maybe he could tell her just enough so she’d stop pressing him about Wren and back off long enough so he could get her out of town while he dealt with things. “Like, she gets part of it, and there’s a clause that states we can’t sell for five years.” He silently hoped the five years would be the dealbreaker he needed.

Macy let out her breath, her eyes wide. “Wow, that sucks. Your dad really was a prick.”

Caleb considered his next words carefully. They were only partially true, but Macy was smart and she wouldn’t just take a placating answer designed to shut her up so he could move to the next subject. “I worry that my step-hag will show up. I know her and she’ll descend and lay in wait like a vulture after a kill. I’ve always protected Wren from—well, let’s just say, I’ve always protected her.”

“Always protected her, why? Living here? In the lap of luxury, what could she possibly need protection from?”

“That’s not my story to tell.”

Macy moved slowly around the end of the bar, intent on getting closer to Caleb. When she was a couple of feet away, her arm snaked out and she ran the fingers of her right hand down the hard contours of his stomach. He was so effing delicious: his shoulders and arms were strong and defined, his stomach flat, but ripped, the six pack and V made her fingers itch to touch him. She’d want him even if he wasn’t gorgeous, but it was a bonus.

Caleb’s hand closed around her wrist to stop her descent to the open waistband of his jeans, and at the same time spoke softly. “I’d appreciate it if you‘d keep this quiet. I don’t want Wren to know that I already know what’s in the will.” He moved around her without touching her, leaving her to stand there blankly watching him move away.

She could sense a new distance between them and she damn sure knew the reason why. It wouldn’t do. It wouldn’t do at all. Something had to give. She had to figure out how to get rid of that little ballerina bitch, and fast.

“I’m exhausted. I’ll see you in the morning,” Caleb said flatly.

With that, he disappeared into the hall, the light to his room went out, and she heard the door to his room close with a click. It was like a thunderclap in the silence.

“Uh uh,” she said softly to herself as she walked up the stairs and deciding to take a little exploratory trip through the house in search of Wren's room. If she didn’t get a chance to talk to her alone on their little shopping trip tomorrow, she’d just have to figure out a way to get her alone at some point. She needed to know Wren’s intentions and feelings for Caleb before she could figure out how to deal with her.

“No little dancing orphan is going to ruin the future I have planned for us, Caleb Luxon. Especially, not now. No way in hell.”

***

IT WAS NO WONDER that Wren couldn’t sleep.

It could have been her long nap and the jet lag, but it was also because she was haunted by the events of the evening. She dug out some of her old dance clothes from one of the drawers in her mahogany dresser: a leotard, tights, and a short chiffon wrap skirt that tied around her waist. She slipped on a pair of pale pink ballet slippers; thinking a good workout was just what her body needed. Ballet could help ease tension and clear her mind.

Given the lateness of the hour, she kept the music and the lights low. She’d decided on contemporary, rather than classical music, as she often did when she was dancing just for herself. The stereo speakers were excellent, and on her way to turn on the music, she passed by the vanity that matched the rest of the furniture in the room.