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  “I’m going to show Lana the trucks now,” Cal said, and led me toward the garage.

  “Hey, come back anytime, Lana!” Dave called, and Mark said something similar.

  I glanced at my feet and smiled as we made our way toward the smell of oil, rubber tires, and fresh air. Cal opened the door, and there, on a slab of massive concrete surrounded by four concrete walls, two of which had large roll up doors, were shiny fire trucks.

  “So, did you really want to see these, or are you just stalling?” he asked.

  The door shut behind us and we were alone. I wound through the space, touching the biggest truck. The metal was cold and smooth. I’d never been so close to one, and it was shocking how large and long they were.

  “Stalling?” I said with the best, “Why, whatever do you mean?” drawl. I wound around the truck, my fingertips gliding along the smooth exterior as I did.

  “Yeah,” Cal said. “Another word for avoiding.” He maneuvered me against the side of the truck, my back pressing into the rig. He placed a palm by my head, leaning, and effectively caging me in.

  “I was avoiding having your friends think I was some random woman you were taking to your room.”

  His head dropped a little more, his face getting right in line with mine. “I wouldn’t let them think that about you, especially because there’s nothing random about you.”

  When I met his gaze, it put our mouths a whisper apart, and my lungs stuttered.

  “I just want to talk. You looked like you’re having a hard day.”

  “Yeah,” I admitted. “It’s been frustrating.”

  He clasped my hand in his, and when I thought he’d kiss me, he pulled away, taking me with him.

  “We’ll save the tour for another time,” he said, taking me back into the hall, only this time, instead of going toward the living area, he took a sharp left and went down a narrow hall with doors on each side. Bedroom doors.

  He opened the one on the end. It was a small room with light blue walls and built-in cabinets. The Murphy bed was pulled down and lined with white sheets, a simple blanket, and two pillows. Aside from a few pictures taped to the wall, there was little else. This space was obviously meant for just sleeping. It was quiet, but I could hear the low hum of music and guys chatting off in the distance. Though Cal wanted to talk, and honestly, I wanted to vent, I still didn’t like the idea of being viewed as “that girl” by his crew.

  “Everyone is still in the living room, and didn’t see us come back here,” he said, as if reading my mind. He sat me down on the bed, then took a seat next to me. “And, by the way, I’m not looking for you to be a random woman. I’m looking to know you.”

  “You already know the gist,” I said casually. “So, this is your room?”

  “When I’m on duty, yes. But my house is only a few blocks away.”

  I nodded.

  “Stop stalling and tell me what’s going on.”

  I frowned at him. “Stop telling me what to do.”

  All the easygoing charm left his face. “Look, I know what happened while you were with Jack. I know about your step-brother and your family of assholes. I know that they used you, I know that they hurt you. In a lot of ways. So, yeah, I know the gist.” His voice was vicious on the last statement, and I sat there in shock. Not because I didn’t think it was possible he’d gotten details throughout the whole mess last month, but because he seemed to know about all of it and wasn’t dancing around the truth.

  “I’m on your side, Lana. I’m not going to pretend that your safety and wellbeing doesn’t matter to me, because it does. I’m also not going to pretend that I am naïve to your family, especially your step-brother. So, if something is going on and you’re in danger—”

  “I took care of it,” I whispered, glancing at my hands. God, he knew more than I’d thought. “Did Jack tell you everything?”

  My heart sank because Cal’s face turned heavy with emotion. He nodded once.

  Great. So, he knew about my past with Brock, knew how he hurt me. He knew about my dad using me to get to Jack, which led to Jack leaving me.

  “Tell me what you ‘took care of’ tonight,” he said softly, and ran his finger along my chin.

  I swallowed hard and looked up at him. “Brock was by my car, waiting there after I got out of my meeting with my advisor.”

  Cal took a deep, angry breath.

  “Please tell me that you kicked him in the nuts and ran back inside.”

  “No. I just told him I wasn’t afraid of him, and I wasn’t going to play his game. He’s just trying to freak me out so, I got in my car and left.” Although it worked, the more time I had to think about the encounter, the more terrified I was becoming.

  There I sat, on Cal’s bed, and all I could do was stare at the ceiling and wonder what the hell I was going to do. When this would end?

  Cal’s whole hand cupped the side of my face, and he got real close, his bent knees brushing mine. “The next time that asshole comes near you, you turn around and get to where people are. If he’s at your school again, you go back inside. Understand?”

  “No,” I shook his hand away. It was the “understand?” that got me. Jack would tell me something, then follow up with that one, simple word. “No, I don’t understand because I’m not some weak pathetic thing that is going to cower from him.”

  “I’m not talking about you cowering or being weak, I’m talking about physics.”

  “Physics?” My balloon of anger deflated a little.

  “I don’t doubt your strength, Lana. I know you can handle yourself.”

  Those words stuck to that empty spot in my chest and heated it a bit. Cal thought I was strong? Thought I could handle myself? His praise and confidence in me was something foreign and…nice.

  “But if you believe that, then why are you telling me to run next time?”

  Cal raised a brow like I’d lost my mind. “Ah, A) because that dipshit is capable of a lot of things and B) he outweighs you. All he has to do is find a reason to snap and throw his weight around enough to get you in a bad position.”

  And I knew what kind of position that was. One that left me vulnerable in more ways than one.

  “You’re a fighter, Kitten.” He winked, but the playful side of him lasted only a second. “But, again, it’s physics. The person with the more mass usually wins.”

  Cal was right, it wasn’t something to risk. Because, if there was one thing I knew, Brock may be showing up just to mess with my mind, but if he got angry, all bets were off. His calm, cool facade could turn violent in a heartbeat, and being on the receiving end of that was not a place I wanted to be ever again.

  “Okay,” I said softly. “You’re right. I’ll go where people are next time.”

  “And call me,” he amended.

  “Why?”

  He glanced down the front of himself with his hands open, like I should understand. “Mass,” he said with a grin. “I guarantee I outweigh him, and I have no problem throwing my weight around.”

  He winked, and I smiled. How he did this, I didn’t know. He walked the fine line of control and casual. Alpha and sensitive. He gave me credit, yet played the role of protector. He was so…easy. No mind games. No guessing what his motives were. He simply just told the truth, put it all out there.

  Still, keeping reality in my mind was smart. He said he cared about my safety. He likely felt a responsibility toward me because of the kind of man he was—a fighter and protector. Taking that notion too far would only lead to feelings. Something I was trying to stay away from in general.

  I took a deep breath and combed my fingers through my hair.

  “You looked tired,” he said, tucking a stray lock behind my ear and running his thumb along my cheekbone beneath my eye.

  “Thanks for noticing,” I grumbled.

  “Aw, don’t get sassy, you’re still hot.”

  I laughed. “Gee, thanks.” But his lack of seriousness made the moment more bearable. “I haven’
t been sleeping well. And my thesis takes a lot of time, and I just found out tonight that there’s more that I need to do. Not that I mind, it’s actually a great idea my advisor came up with. I just don’t know who, or where to really start.”

  He whistled a low breath. “Sorry, Kitten, I’m going to need some nouns to follow you here. What is it you need to do and who and where and…what?”

  I laughed and Cal just smiled. Yeah, I suppose my conversational skills were coming out in less than complete thoughts or sentences. Still, he sat there, listening intently, those blue eyes soft with patience.

  “I have to interview a local business owner. Shadow them even, and see how they run their company. It will help round out my project.”

  “Wow,” he said.

  I nodded. “I just…”

  “Don’t know where to start?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What about starting with the interview?” I was about to tell him that yes, that’s the perfect place to start, but the only two people I knew to interview were not going to happen. But then he added, “My aunt is a small business owner here in Golden. It’s a cleaning service, but she’s pretty successful. I can set up an introduction if you’d like?”

  My eyes went wide. “Really? You’d do that?” So much hope lined my voice that even I could hear it. It was a win. Something Cal seemed to be able to deliver on. I wouldn’t have to go into Denver and call around to get on someone’s schedule. All because Cal was willing to help.

  He smiled like his day had just changed, and his blue gaze went a little deeper as it focused on me.

  “Yeah, of course I would.” His voice was low and soft and made shivers break out over my spine.

  “You’ve just made my life so much easier,” I said, before I could think better of it.

  “I’m glad. Now I have something serious to ask you.” He leaned in so close that his nose almost brushed mine. My breathing stalled and he grinned, stopping short of actually touching me. “You ever going to admit how much you like kissing me?”

  My lips parted thinking about just that. “I ah…admit that it’s complicated.”

  “No, it’s not.” He leaned closer. “You like it.”

  “I may.”

  He raised a brow. “May?” I shrugged a shoulder, and a playful growl escaped his throat. “Sounds kind of like a challenge.”

  Again, I shrugged a shoulder, but didn’t get too far with that because his mouth was on mine in record time, kissing me like he would drink every last word, breath, and thought away. Leaving me with nothing to focus on, but him.

  And I welcomed it.

  Reaching to tunnel my hands in his hair, I stopped short.

  Did that count as reaching out?

  Before I could decide, he took another long draw from my mouth, like a man seeking his last taste of water. Decision made, gripping his hair didn’t count as reaching out, it counted as holding on. Totally fine. So I did just that. I wove my fingers in his hair and kissed him back.

  Plunging my tongue deep, I met his over and over, like I couldn’t get enough. Because I couldn’t. Every emotion I’d been carrying was seeping from my skin, and I couldn’t fight it. So, I stopped fighting and gripped Cal’s hair tighter. Kissed harder.

  He cupped my hips and, in one easy slide, lifted me to straddle his lap like I weighed nothing, never breaking away from my mouth. I wanted more of him and less of the feelings that had been dark and carving a hollow place in my chest. For the moment, he filled that space. He was the warmth in the cold, and gave just a tiny glimpse of light against the darkness.

  Every nerve I had snapped, and I clung to the feeling of him surrounding me. I was desperate for more. Desperate to know what it meant to be seen, touched, by this man.

  “Do you think this is what we’d have done?” I said against his lips, breaking away just enough to yank his shirt over his head. I instantly started biting along his neck. “After the night we met?” I kissed down his throat to his hard chest. The tattoo that marred his entire bicep snaked around his shoulder and covered the right side of his chest. It was amazing. The ink came alive as he moved, and I traced it with my tongue. “Would we have come back in here and done this?” I sucked his nipple, and he hissed.

  “We would have done a lot more than this,” he rasped, and unsnapped my jeans, tugging them open enough to slide his hand in.

  I moaned with his palm pressed against my clit.

  “Show me,” I said, fully in control, and no longer willing to be the scared girl I once was.

  With one hand in my pants, his other cupped my neck and forced me to meet his gaze. We were both breathing hard, but an icy blaze lit his eyes.

  “Who are you with right now?” he asked, his fingers, feather-light and slowly sliding back and forth with the barest touch, gently teasing me higher.

  “You,” I replied instantly. I was with Cal. Strong, hard, casual Cal. And I wanted him. All of him. I was tired of drowning in the memories of my past, and that now included Jack. Bad idea or not, in that moment, I felt alive. Felt like I had a say in my world, all while feeling not so alone.

  “Say my name.”

  I realized then that this was important. That his name was a declaration that I was moving. Maybe not moving on, but moving in his direction.

  “Cal,” I whispered.

  A short grin split his face as he plunged his middle finger inside me. I gasped and gripped his shoulders. Again, simply to hold on, not to reach out.

  With his palm against my clit and his finger deep inside me, I began to rock in his lap, fucking his finger the way I would his cock.

  He kept a tight hold of me, letting me move how I wanted, but keeping me close. His muscles bulged and flexed because he leaned back just a little, causing his abs to strain and stand up like hunks of rock beneath tan skin.

  He was like someone from myth. A descendant of Hercules himself. And I gave myself over to his power and strength. But I wielded my own power with my movements, keeping my pace and my control.

  “Jesus, you feel amazing,” he said, and kissed down my throat to the neckline of my shirt. He bit the material and growled. “Help me out, Kitten. My hands are busy.”

  I yanked down my top and bra and wedged it beneath my breasts. The sounds of fabric ripping scratched my ears, but I didn’t care.

  He didn’t say a word, just sucked my nipple into his mouth and pulled.

  “Ah, God…yes.” I gripped him tighter, my fingernails digging into his skin, and I continued to ride his hand. My orgasm was just around the corner. He licked my breasts and my neglected skin sparked, like fire spreading over dry bark. The flames shot up from my core to my neck, burning me in the best way.

  I wanted to feel him. Not reach, feel, I reminded myself.

  I ran my hands down his stomach, those cut abdominal muscles turning me on even more.

  “Mmmm,” he groaned, and sucked my other nipple into his mouth. My inner walls spasmed once, already on the brink. “You’re close, I can feel it,” he said, moving his palm in a circular motion, lighting up every nerve I had, and taking the fire to new heights. “This tight, wet pussy is going to come all over my hand,” he rasped, and his words pricked my hairline with a fresh dose of lust. “Let me feel it, Kitten. You wanted to know what it would have been like? I want to feel you writhe on my hand.”

  I was helpless but to do just that. Because he held me tight, gently biting my nipple, and I shot over the edge like a rocket into pleasure. My whole body shuddered and came, just like Cal wanted, around his masterful hand. All the while, he gripped me tight and kept my head from lolling back in bliss.

  With a deep breath, my eyes opened to find him staring at me. I realized then that this moment was intimate on a level I hadn’t intended it to be. He’d just watched me come, and somehow, I’d gotten lost.

  With shaky breaths, I moved to stand, his hand slipping from me and out of my pants. I buttoned my jeans quickly, and adjusted my shirt so I was covered. But the
re was no hiding what had just happened. My emotions had gotten the better of me.

  Cal sat forward, his eyes never leaving mine, and rested his elbows on his knees. All those muscles rippling, that tattoo flashing in the low light, and eyes blazing with intent.

  He was beautiful.

  “Cal, I’m sorry, but—”

  “Nope,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to hear anything about being sorry. If that’s the line you’re thinking, then it would be better for you to just go.”

  My mouth dropped. How had that happened? How had I gone from anger, to bliss, to brushed off in moments?

  “I’m not doing this again. I’m not going to play mind games,” I said.

  “Good, because I’m not either. And there is no again, when it comes to me. This is our first time, not our last, and not a repeat.” His expression was hard, and I knew what he meant. He wasn’t Jack. Therefore, he was right, there was no again since there was no before. “I want you. And if that means cleaning up his mess, I’ll do it. But don’t mistake my acknowledgment of reality for an invitation of your guilt.”

  His words hit me harder than a strike to the face. “This isn’t easy,” I snapped. “I’m still dealing with having my world fall apart and a man walk off with half my heart like I was nothing to him, while I stand here trying to pick up the pieces.”

  “I know it’s not easy. But everything you do, and everything you feel, is on you now. Own it. Don’t be sorry for it.”

  Rage and sadness speared my gut like a sharp knife. He was right. And it hurt. Truth did that sometimes. If I wanted to be strong, to be my own person and try to get past the last few months of my life, then I had to own it.

  It didn’t make it any less hard though.

  “I’ll call my aunt and set up a meeting,” he said, like he hadn’t just been kissing me. “As far as you and I go, if you want to run, fine, I can deal with that. But come find me when you’re done hiding.”

  Chapter 4

  “How did the meeting with your advisor go?” Harper asked, as I walked through the front door.

  “Fine,” I said, and locked the door behind me, the “beep-beep” sounding right after from the alarm had turned into a comforting noise. The small reminder I needed that no one, not even Brock with his creepy stalking, could hurt me in here. I was in control. I had taken it back.