Listen to Your Heart(54)

“That’s my favorite.”

“I had a feeling,” he says, walking toward the couch and offering me his hand. “I believe you owe me a dance.”

Caleb pulls me into his arms, and I rest my head against his chest as we sway to the music. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I can’t resist looking up into his bright blue eyes.

“You look so happy.”

“How could I not be?” he says softly. “Look at you. Look at us. There’s absolutely nothing standing in our way now.”

Caleb gently cups my cheeks and presses his forehead to mine, and we dance like that through the rest of the album. Even when the sweet ballads shift into rock songs, our bodies keep their slow, steady rhythm. We’re not even paying attention to the music. All I can focus on is his handsome face and his fiery eyes as they gaze into mine.

When the music finally fades, I take him by the hand and lead him to my bedroom. Without a word between us, Caleb reaches for the zipper of my dress. One small tug and it’s gone, falling and pooling at my feet. His heated gaze roams my body as I unbutton his shirt. Desperate to touch him, I let my hands trail along his chest, and I’m rewarded with a shuddering gasp when my finger finds the zipper of his jeans.

We’ve slept in the same bed for weeks, but this is the first time we’ve allowed ourselves this . . . to touch so freely and tenderly, without the imaginary walls we built between us. That I built between us, all because I wanted to do the right thing. I don’t know why it was so important to me. Maybe I wanted this to be the one moment of our relationship that wasn’t tainted by all the devious lies and good intentions. Maybe I wanted this night to be the one true thing.

No lies. No schemes. Just us.

Caleb lays me down on the bed, and his lips find mine . . . a gentle, soft kiss that grows deeper and hungrier as our hands explore every inch of flesh we can find in the dark. His mouth travels down my body, trailing kisses down my stomach and along each thigh, causing me to writhe uncontrollably and whimper his name. His scorching kisses blaze a trail along my skin until I feel his breath against my ear.

“I love you,” he whispers roughly.

“I love you, too.”

Wrapping my legs around his waist, I draw him closer and arch my hips, causing us both to gasp as our bodies align. Unable to keep our eyes off each other, he presses his forehead to mine, and with trembling breaths, we start to move.

In life, we often anticipate something so much that, when it finally happens, we’re left feeling disappointed. Our imaginations run wild, making it impossible for the reality to come close to the fantasy.

Never in my wildest dreams could I have imagined this.

Every hungry kiss and breathless whisper shatters the sorrow that’s consumed us for months. All the secrets and lies are magically erased, leaving behind a blank page for us to write a new song, one that’s filled with hope and truth and love.

And we start writing it tonight.



We’ve nearly drifted off to sleep when Caleb whispers in my ear.

“Do you believe in soulmates?”

I smile sleepily. “Hmm. Sex makes you sappy. Good to know.”

“Seriously. Do you?”

I turn around in his arms. Thanks to the light of the moon shining through the window, I can see his blue eyes gazing down at me.

“I’ve planned a lot of weddings for soulmates whose marriages didn’t make it past the honeymoon.”

“So that’s a no.”

“It’s not a no. I just think it’s rare.”

Caleb lifts my hand to his lips. “I think we’re rare.”

“I think we are, too.”

“You do?”

“I do.”

I hear his breath hitch, and he closes his eyes.

“Say that again,” he whispers.

“I do?”

His expression is unreadable, but his eyes shine with nothing but love for me.

“I do.”

His lips find mine, and suddenly, I’m wide awake. A soft moan resonates from his throat as I crawl over him, pushing him onto his back and straddling his waist.

“You’re trying to kill me.”

“Just making up for lost time.”

Caleb grabs my hips just as the doorbell rings, making us both jump.

“Don’t you dare move from this spot,” he says, holding me tight.

I glance at the bedside clock. Who’s at my door at midnight?

The doorbell rings again, and Caleb groans.

“It could be important. Get dressed.”

He mutters a curse as I climb out of bed and grab my robe. I rush to the living room and check the peep hole. All I see is a mop of brown hair and a guitar case.

Eli?

With trembling fingers, I quickly turn the locks and open the door. My nephew’s standing there, with a backpack in one hand and his guitar in the other. He looks cold, wet, and pissed.

“Eli, what—”

“I’m moving in with you.”

Too stunned to formulate a response, I step aside as the kid walks into my apartment and heads straight to his bedroom.





“That’s so cool!” Eli says. “Can I try?”

Thank God for Caleb. He can distract the kid with awesome guitar riffs while I pace my kitchen and try, unsuccessfully, to reach my idiot brother and his crazy ex-wife on the phone. Both numbers go straight to voice mail, where I’m more than happy to unleash my fury—repeatedly—because I’m so pissed I can’t see straight.