Freshly showered, Caleb crossed the expanse of yard between his house and Emerson’s. He’d had twenty-four hours to wonder whether he’d made a mistake giving her time to think about what had happened between them. But deep down, he knew the full-court press would have backfired on him for sure. Tonight was about addressing whatever concerns she’d come up with—he knew there’d be plenty—and convincing her to give them a chance despite all of them.
Instead of circling around to the back like normal, he went to the front door and rang the bell. She answered a few moments later, a frown bowing her painted lips. She’d done her makeup for him. Nothing outrageous, just some color on her cheeks and lips, and something to make those bluebonnet eyes big enough to drown in. So she did plan on keeping the date. Hurdle number one jumped.
“Why didn’t you come to the back?”
“A date seems like a front door kind of event.” Caleb stepped inside and brushed a quick kiss to her cheek, catching the subtle floral notes of her shampoo. “You look beautiful.”
Her hand fluttered in the air for a moment before tucking a chunk of hair behind her ear. “You didn’t say where we were going. I wasn’t sure what to wear.”
A solid canine head wedged itself between them and began to sniff Caleb from foot to crotch. “Still in chaperone mode, I see.” He crouched down on the dog’s level to give him a good rubdown instead of letting his gaze linger on the well-worn jeans and form-fitting white cotton shirt that showed off Emerson’s curves and a tantalizing hint of skin revealed by the open top buttons.
“You’re perfect. I’m grilling at my place so you can bring your new friend here. I figured he might have some separation anxiety this soon.” And he knew part of her objections would be tied to what other people would think about her being out with a younger guy. They’d tackle that one later. He wanted her to be comfortable.
As Emerson’s whole posture relaxed, he knew he’d made the right call.
“Thanks. I really didn’t want to leave him crated. I don’t know if he’s a digger, and he’s got some…unexpected traits that mean I really didn’t want to leave him loose in the house on his own.” She grabbed the leash and snapped it on. Butt wagging, the dog towed her toward the door.
“Like what? Did he chew up some of your stuff?”
“I’ll tell you about it over dinner. Let’s just say the theory that he was raised with cats is looking like a good one.”
“Curiouser and curiouser.”
They crossed the yard together, cutting through his house and out to the patio. Emerson set the dog loose to go sniff the perimeter of his backyard.
“Wine or cider?”
“What’s dinner?”
“Got a nice cedar-planked salmon and veggies to toss on the grill.”
Her lips curved a little. “Breaking the bachelor mold of steak and potatoes?”
“That’s too predictable.”
“Nothing about the last few days has been predictable.” She blew out a breath. “Surprise me.”
He brought back a glass of the sauvignon blanc he knew she liked, along with a plate of stuffed mushrooms. Emerson plucked one off the plate and the dog made a beeline across the yard, plopping down into a vibrating sit.
“Don’t even think about it, Mooch. These are not for you.”
“You named him Mooch?”
“Seemed appropriate. I mean, look at that face.”
Mooch swung The Eyes toward Caleb, determined he didn’t have food in his hand, and turned back to Emerson.
“That’s Olympic-gold-medal begging right there. Mooch is perfect.” He lit the grill. “How’s he working out otherwise?”
She sipped her wine, humming in appreciation. “Well, he jumps on counters. And tables. And the refrigerator.”
Caleb paused, a mushroom in his hand. “The fridge? How?”
“I don’t know. I was on the phone with Fi last night and I turned around and—boom—there he was.” She pulled out her phone and swiped the screen. “See?”
Sure enough, the dog smiled down from the top of the fridge. “You can barely even reach that with a stool.”
“I am aware. Until I can train him out of it, I’ve had to move everything that’s breakable off the horizontal surfaces in the house.”
“Yikes. Are you having regrets?” Man, if he’d saddled her with a problem animal…
“No. I mean, there’s going to be an adjustment period, but as advertised, he does not, in fact, seem to bark. Like…ever. He stays more or less glued to my side. When I’m recording, he’s happy laying down right outside the booth.”
“That sounds ideal.”
“It’s early days yet, but so far, yeah. He’s a cuddler. We got him that big, cushy dog bed, and I woke up last night and he’d snuck into my bed, all snuggled up next to me. It was so damned cute, I didn’t have the heart to kick him out.”
“Well hell, I didn’t think I’d be jealous of a dog.” The moment the joke left his mouth, Caleb regretted it.
Emerson tensed up again, dropping her gaze to her wine.
“Sorry,” he muttered. “I was kidding around. I didn’t mean to bring up the elephant in the room.”
She shook her head. “We might as well acknowledge it. I don’t know what I’m doing here, Caleb. This is crazy.”
“You’re here because you haven’t done anything for yourself since Fiona came into your life.” At least, he hoped that was why she was here.
The wine glass made a discordant thunk as she set it on the table. “I inherited a traumatized teenager. She needed me, and I—”
Caleb covered her hand with his and squeezed. “No, I’m not saying you should have done any different. I was there that night. I know why you did what you did. It’s why I waited.”
Confusion drew down her brows. “Waited?”
“I’d have asked you out years ago if you’d had the bandwidth for it. But that wasn’t what you needed.”
He expected her to fixate on the “years ago” part of his admission, but she surprised him.
“How do you know what I need?” He didn’t take offense at the faint edge of accusation in her voice.
“I’ve made a study of it. A study of you.” Because those bluebonnet eyes held a spark of challenge, he began reeling things off. “You need stability and routine. You can pivot when you need to, but it takes a lot out of you. You need physical release for all that stress you carry around like Atlas, which is why I got you into running. You need quiet—until you don’t. Not that you’ve gotten too much of that since Fi came along. Sometimes you need somebody else to pull you out of your shell and your cave. You’ll grumble about it a bit, but you almost always end up glad you came.” With every word, every statement that showed he’d been paying attention, that he knew her, her eyes got rounder, her shock more pronounced. He enjoyed keeping her off balance like this—as long as it meant he was the one who got to catch her.
She was outright staring when he was through. “Why? Why me? I mean, you’re—” She waved a hand in his general direction as if to encompass all of him. “—that. You could have any other woman you wanted.”