One Step Closer(59)

Caleb lifted his hand without turning around, his eyes on the long blonde curls of Wren as she walked out in front of him. She was so small and the protectiveness inside him roared. He’d hurt her again.

Why the hell was he always hurting her? He silently chastised himself; regret surging through him. He hated hurting her. He’d rather never see Wren again than hurt her. He leaned around her to push open the door to the outside, the fresh air and sunshine greeting them.

He could sense Wren’s sadness and the hint of anger simmering underneath the surface, though she didn’t say anything as they both put on their sunglasses. Walking beside her the few feet to the Harley, he took a chance and reached out to grab her hand in his, hoping the silent plea would hit its mark.

It must have because her fingers squeezed around his. When they were back on the bike and he started the engine, the arms around him seemed a bit tighter than on the trip up the mountain; an unspoken forgiveness. He knew he didn’t deserve her forgiveness or to have her in his life, but he was so thankful for her comforting presence behind him on the ride back to Denver.

Every inch where their bodies connected was on fire. Her thighs hugged the side of his hips and legs, her head rested against his shoulder, and her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as she held on; her arms wrapped tight around his middle.

It was a slice of heaven.





MACY WAS PISSED.


When Caleb and Wren finally showed up at the house it was after noon and Mrs. Jones had played ignorant and refused to tell her what the hell was going on. Add to it that Caleb hadn’t answered any of the five text messages she’d sent during his time out with Wren.

She’d wandered through the house to look around and ended up in a large bedroom on the second floor across the hall from Wren’s suite. It was very luxurious with a huge four-poster bed and sitting area by the window. The faint smell of a woman’s perfume lingered in the air and a large portrait of a woman Macy could only assume was Caleb’s mother. She was beautiful, her hair a lighter shade than Caleb’s, but the deep blue eyes were identical. She had a softer, more feminine version of Caleb’s face, but the resemblance was unmistakable.

The frame of the picture was understated so it wouldn’t take away from the woman who was the focus. Celine was thin and glamorous; and Macy recognized the image as one from the Lux campaign for their signature scent; Lumineux. Celine Luxon’s eyes were soft and serene, connected with the camera, the fingers of her right hand hovering by the pendant hanging on a long chain; just above the scooped neckline of her dress.

The jewelry resonated in Macy’s thoughts. Her eyes widened in recognition. It was the pendant the Lux logo was based on; the very same one Wren wore. So… little miss Wren had the cherished locket. Did Caleb’s dad give it to her since he didn’t have a biological daughter? Her mind churned. What if Caleb were the one to give it to her?

Macy’s lips pressed together, as anger and resentment resonated through her. She huffed and both fists clenched at her sides. That would never do.

She rushed downstairs to wait for Caleb in the great room, anxious to confront him. Wren had the necklace, and he disappeared with her for hours? Two and two certainly added up to four, and Macy was anything but stupid. Something had to be done. It was suddenly imperative that Caleb be kept away from Wren as much as possible and for Macy to get him back to San Francisco immediately after the funeral. She had just started impatiently pacing in front of the main window when Caleb walked in, his head down while he fiddled with his phone. It was clear he was checking his messages; finally.

“Nice of you to let me know what you were doing! Was I supposed to just twiddle my thumbs all damn day?” she said, her tone short and waspish.

Caleb’s head snapped up and he glared at her.

What the f*ck? he thought.

“It’s only noon. Chill out,” he said in annoyance. He didn’t feel like he owed her any type of explanation, but wanted it cleared up before they were out with Wren. “We took my old bike for a ride and headed west. It was such a nice morning that we lost track of time.”

Macy plopped down on the oversized sofa. The furniture was plush with dark green suede cushions designed for comfort as well as style. “A ride with little sis for old times sake? I can’t imagine you’ll see much of each other after the funeral. Not being blood and all.”

Caleb’s muscles tensed. She was being a complete bitch. “Some ties are stronger than blood.”

“Like what? A little humping and bumping in the backseat of Daddy’s Mercedes? Ooohhh.” Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she fanned her fingers in front of her. Macy’s suspicions were gaining strength the more she saw how Caleb acted around Wren. He was serious and more intense, and she didn’t like it.

“No,” he said harshly. He casually sat down in the chair at the end of the sofa, keeping his distance. “Like two parents who f*cked us both up horribly. Any more questions?”

“Yes.” Macy’s eyes narrowed.

“Too bad. I’m not in the mood to be interrogated. No more answers.” Caleb cut her off.

Macy flushed uncomfortably. Clearly Wren, and Caleb’s relationship with her, was a sore subject for him. She didn’t want to piss him off further; it was too much of a risk in his present state.

She got up and sauntered toward the big chair and crawled onto his lap. Caleb sat up and scooted back in the chair at her unexpected intrusion into his personal space. Her hand reached up to cup the side of his face and she bent to press a kiss to his unwilling mouth. “Come on, Cale. Let’s not fight.”