“Too late.”

  Caleb rolled his eyes. “Sadie, this is my brother-in-law, Niles. Niles, this is Sadie. And I’ll owe you big if you get the girls out of here in the next sixty seconds.”

  Niles grinned and the two men did one of those guy backslapping hugs and then some complicated handshake.

  “Heard from my nephew,” Niles said. “Thanks for scaring him straight. I’m pretty sure he’s not done being a dumbass though, so don’t go soft on ’em. My sister says to keep giving him hell and make sure he’s good and terrified about stealing from you. She wants him to think he could go to juvie any second.”

  Caleb nodded. “What are you guys doing here anyway?”

  “Sienne and Kayla are stocking your freezer.”

  “Kayla nesting again?”

  “Yeah, but she needed an assist. That girl’s big as a house.”

  “I am not nesting!” presumably Kayla yelled from inside the house. “I just don’t want the people I love who have penises to starve to death or eat junk food because they don’t take the time to take care of themselves!”

  Caleb looked down at the bag of food in his hands and put it behind his back.

  Niles grimaced and rubbed a huge hand over his bald head. “Apparently she’s having trouble regulating her hormones.”

  “I am not!”

  Niles grimaced again, fist-bumped Caleb, nodded at Sadie, and vanished inside the house.

  A few seconds later, the front door slammed shut.

  “My sisters Sienne and Kayla,” Caleb said. “And Sienne’s husband, Niles. Kayla literally goes insane when she’s in the last trimester of her pregnancies.”

  “You guys really are close.”

  “We are,” he said. “For better or for worse. And let me tell you, some days there’s lots of worse.”

  Sadie followed him through the door and into one of the biggest kitchens she’d ever seen. “Wow,” she said, but in truth her mind was very busy processing the things she’d learned about Caleb tonight. First, he had tattoos, which he’d not once mentioned in all the time that she’d known him. And she’d known him for a damn year.

  Worse, she’d judged him for being . . . What? Normal?

  He was the furthest thing from any of the “normal” people she’d ever known. He was smart as hell and also private as hell. Not in a negative way, but as if he’d had to guard himself all the time.

  Something she knew a little something about.

  But what she’d learned about him tonight was more than the fact that he had tattoos and was close to his family. She’d learned he’d had a troubled life too, and that made her a terrible person for assuming he’d had a fairy-tale life growing up.

  She blew out a sigh, and that’s when she saw them, on his shiny, very clean tile floor: Lollipop’s food and water bowls, which caused a ridiculous tug on her heart. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly.

  He looked over at her.

  “I’m an ass,” she clarified.

  “You have the best ass on the planet,” he said. “If that’s what you mean.”

  “It’s not.” She stalled with a few French fries. “I’ve got a confession.”

  “Is this going to be a dirty confession?” he asked hopefully.

  “No! And never mind.”

  He took the last bite of his first burger, crumpled up the wrapping, and tossed it over his shoulder, landing it into his trash can without looking. “Come on. Tell me.”

  “No, forget it. You ruined it.”

  “Okay,” he said easily. “Then I’ll tell you. You want to confess to being a Miss Judgy Judgerson.”

  Chapter 20

  #HotMess

  “What?” Sadie gaped at Caleb. How the hell had he known? “I’ll confess to no such thing,” she said. “That’s not even close to what I . . .” She trailed off when he just stood there so composed while she was . . . not composed.

  Because he’d spoken the truth. She was indeed a Miss Judgy Judgerson. “It’s all your suits’ fault,” she said.

  He looked at her for a long beat, his eyes a good part amused, but also there was frustration there. “Here’s what I think,” he finally said. “I think that when you get uncomfortable, you look for a way out. You were uncomfortable with me from the very beginning, in the best way possible. Meaning you were attracted to me. And that scared you, so you’ve been looking for a way out ever since.” He held her gaze. “A suit is my work uniform, Sadie, nothing more. It’s business, and also about professionalism and maturity, and to a lesser degree, image. I’m not going to wear a T-shirt and jeans into a business meeting with NASA, for example. Not when we’re going to sit down and discuss future projects that could add up to billions of dollars. I’m not hiding behind my clothes, but I’m not being inauthentic either.”

  He was right, and worse, he was as authentic as they came, whereas she tended to go for shock value, a fact that proved her immaturity more than anything else. Sagging back against the counter, she crossed her arms and looked into his knowing eyes. “It must be hard to be perfect.”

  He laughed. Laughed.

  “I don’t know why that’s funny,” she said. “And you know what else you are? Way too calm, which pisses me off.”

  “It’s my black heart.”

  “So nothing gets it pumping?” she asked.

  “You know exactly what gets my black heart pumping.”

  She felt her face heat, which really got to her, and she closed her eyes. Because yes, she did know exactly. When he’d been buried deep inside her so that she could feel nothing but him, his heart had pounded hard against hers and it’d been thrilling. She opened her eyes and found him standing right in front of her.

  Smart, sexy, and he moved like smoke.

  “FYI, I’m not even close to perfect,” he said. “I’m bossy, demanding, I don’t seem to know when to give up, and . . .”

  “And . . . ?” she prodded when he trailed off.

  “I’m not exactly proud of this.” He ran a finger along her temple, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “But I’m also emotionally detached.”

  “From . . . ?”

  “Just about everyone,” he said.

  “Except your family.”

  “Sometimes even them. I don’t do vulnerable very well. Had too much of it growing up. So I hold back, specifically with women.” His finger stroked over her earlobe now, his eyes on the movement. “My last girlfriend dumped me for it. And the one before that too. I think ‘coldhearted bastard’ was a common theme.”

  She took that in, watching him watch her from those still hooded eyes. She wasn’t the only one of them who was messed up. The realization should’ve scared her, but instead it comforted. She glanced around at his huge house that she was pretty sure he’d not brought any of their common friends to . . . but he’d brought her. “You’re testing me,” she realized.

  He just looked at her.

  “You are,” she said slowly. “You’re throwing everything you’ve got at me so I’ll realize you’re just as screwed up as me and dump your ass.”

  He gave a slow shake of his head. “When I think about us being in a relationship, I don’t picture the dumping-my-ass part.”

  This shut her up for a beat. “You think about being in a relationship?” she asked. “With me? Because let’s be honest. Your heart isn’t even close to black. But mine is.”

  “I like your black heart,” he said. “And yes, I think about being in a relationship with you. Why does that surprise you?”

  “Because I’m a hot mess!”

  He smiled. “You’re hot,” he said, “but you’re not a mess. You’re strong, determined, resourceful, unpredictable—” He smiled when she grimaced at the truth of that.

  But it was truly shocking to her that he remembered everything about her. He knew her, like really knew her. After living her life surrounded by people who’d barely noticed her, being around Caleb was revolutionary.

  “—And,” he added quietly, “apparently you haven’t figured out that I like all of that, a lot.”

  “And yet you’re still testing me. Did I pass or fail?”

  “Depends,” he said, “on what you do next.”

  She stared at him for a beat, at war with herself. Don’t do it, she thought. Don’t. But she set down her now empty bag of fries, licked the salt off her thumb, and strode across the expanse of the kitchen straight for him.

  He didn’t move an inch, just watched her come at him, eyes hooded, body on the wrong side of tense.

  He wanted not to care about her.

  But he did.

  And she knew exactly what that felt like. Not stopping until they were toe-to-toe, she slid her hands up his chest and let her fingers curl into his hair. Holding his gaze, she tugged his head down to hers and took his mouth.

  For a beat, he didn’t budge, just let her nibble at first one corner of his mouth and then the other. It wasn’t until she gave his full lower lip a nip with her teeth that he groaned and yanked her into him, hard.

  “I thought you’d have run screaming into the night by now,” he murmured.

  She gave a rough laugh. “Look at me, Caleb. If anyone should be running scared, it’s you.”

  “You don’t scare me either, Sadie Lane.”

  “Well, I damn well should.”

  This got her another slow shake of his head. “I like you,” he said. “Just the way you are.”

  “Now you’re just trying to get into my pants.”

  “You’re wearing a dress, a damn sexy one at that.”

  “My panties then,” she said.

  “If I was trying to get into your panties, I’d do this.” He backed her to the counter and pressed his warm sexy body into hers. Cupping her face, he kissed her senseless, until she was clinging to him and trying to climb him like a tree. She drowned in the kiss, letting all the pent-up passion flood over her and take control. His hands on her body felt right, so very right as he touched her exactly how she wanted to be touched. She had no idea how he already knew her so well, but he did.

  Finally, when they were both breathing crazily, he pulled back just far enough to look into her eyes. He’d tugged her dress straps to her elbows, baring her breasts, and had her hem bunched up over his forearms. His fingers were playing with the edge of her lacy thong, making it hard to pull in air.

  “I can’t remember what we were talking about,” she managed.

  He flashed a smile and she stared at him transfixed because she knew what was coming next.

  Her.

  She’d known what would happen from the moment she’d crossed the kitchen, and she reached for him. He lifted her, setting her on the countertop, making her squeal when she made contact with the ice-cold granite. “You’re right,” she gasped. “You’re not even close to perfect.”

  “But I’m good,” he said, his amusement giving way to something far more intense. His hands were on her ribcage, just beneath her breasts, his thumbs teasing her nipples, leaving her feeling like she was walking along a cliff, toying with a tumble off the edge.

  Snagging one of the barstools with his foot, Caleb yanked it close. Then he rested his butt against it, giving her a look that nearly melted the thong right off of her before ducking his head beneath her dress.

  “Wait,” she said quickly, not at all sure why she was stalling other than the mix of how easy he was to be with and his innate sexiness had her off-balance and she hadn’t had a chance to get her barriers into place. “You didn’t finish your dinner. Aren’t you still hungry?”

  She felt him smile against her, the hands he had on her both familiar and warm. She was stalling and he knew it. “I’m starving,” he said, muffled by her dress. His hands skimmed up her thighs to nudge them apart. Then the erotically rough pads of his fingers scraped the lace aside and . . .

  “Oh my God,” she murmured as his tongue rasped over her quivering flesh.

  “Nope,” he said. “Just me.” This was the last thing he said.

  Not Sadie. She said lots. Or rather whimpered and moaned things like “yes!” and “oh, please . . .” and “don’t stop!” and when he played with her, holding her on the edge of the mother of all orgasms, there was more than one “dammit, Caleb!” And that was the thing about him. He could push buttons she didn’t even know she had. And he’d clearly read her instruction manual because he knew exactly how she worked and what she needed to run at maximum capacity.

  When he’d thoroughly and shockingly taken her apart and put her back together again, he gently kissed first one inner thigh and then the other, and then her two tattoos.

  And then the scar beneath those two tattoos.

  She stilled, but not Caleb. He rose, kicked the barstool out of his way, and produced a condom.

  Not neon pink.

  Leaning over her, he brushed his lips across hers and had her fingers curling into his shirt as she tugged it off him. His tattoos were sexy as hell and she pressed hot kisses to every part of him she could reach as she slid her hands inside his pants, making him do a little creative swearing of his own.

  She didn’t normally have a hard time keeping her emotional connection to a guy in check, but whenever she and Caleb were intimate, it was impossible to control herself, much less her emotions. The gentleness and obvious affection with which he touched her always dissolved the best of her intentions.

  “Sadie,” he said huskily.

  “Yeah?”

  “Missed this.”

  “It’s not been long,” she managed to grate out, holding on to him because suddenly he was her only anchor in a spinning world.

  And then he was inside her.

  She gasped as he filled her, his hands going to her hips to yank her closer to the edge of the counter, allowing him to slide even deeper inside her. She bit his shoulder to hide her moan.

  “Aw. You missed me too,” he said and began to move.

  And just like that, like always with him, she lost herself, pulled into his force field by the sheer presence of his personality alone. Add to the mix what his body did to hers and how he looked at her . . . She’d never experienced anything like it. It’d probably terrify her if she had any brain capacity left in that moment, but she didn’t. Not with Caleb holding her like she was the best thing that had ever happened to him, his body tensing, telling her he was close. But she was even closer, and even as she thought it, she fell into the abyss, pulling him along with her.

  Their release was followed by a perfect moment of contentment as Caleb’s kisses turned tender and lingering again. When their heart rates returned to some semblance of normal—although Sadie wasn’t sure her heart would recover—he helped right her clothing. His hands were still lingering when his phone buzzed on the counter. Nuzzling at Sadie’s neck, he said, “Answer.”

  “Honey,” a woman said into the room. “The girls are coming over for The Bachelorette and I’m ordering pizza. Can I get you one?”

  Sadie felt Caleb’s chest rumble with his laugh. “Hard pass on The Bachelorette, Mom, but no thanks.”

  “But what about the pizza? You love pizza. What’s wrong? You sick?”

  One of Caleb’s hands was in Sadie’s hair. He slid it down her throat to cup a breast, letting his thumb slide over her nipple, which tightened for him. “Just . . . busy tonight,” he murmured.

  This got him a beat of silence from his mom, like his words didn’t compute. “But you’re always starving by now. Did you get dinner?”

  His gaze went wicked as he looked at Sadie and she felt her face heat. “I ate,” he said, and then it was more than just her face heating up. “Gotta go, Mom. Love you.”

  Sadie waited until she was sure the call was no longer connected. “You just lied to your mother.”

  “I didn’t lie. I did eat.” He flashed a dirty smile that had her halfway to another orgasm and lifted her, one arm banded around her lower back, the other sliding around the back of a thigh, encouraging her to wrap her legs around him.

  Which she did, kissing her way down his throat to the emblem on his bicep. “You had a good artist.”

  “My cousin,” he said, palming her ass, easily holding her up against him. “Like you, she normally only takes on female clients, but I bugged her until she caved.”

  “Why only female clients?”

  Caleb shrugged. “She’s not super fond of men. Says they have a lower pain tolerance.”

  “Men are big babies.” She laughed when he looked surprised and maybe slightly insulted. “And the more alpha they are,” she went on, “the lower their pain threshold. I once had a client who wanted a big badass Metallica tattoo, but he couldn’t handle it. He left the shop with a single line trailing down the back of his shoulder.”

  Caleb smiled. “I wasn’t exactly a tough guy when I got my first tattoo.”

  “You mean your cartoon turtle?” she teased.

  “Laugh all you want, I deserve it. I was an idiot back then. An idiot who needed a couple of shots of vodka to get through it.”

  “It could’ve been worse,” she said. “You didn’t get the name of your high school sweetheart, for instance. Rocco makes more money covering up other tattoos, like ex-lovers’ names, than anything else. If you’re going to get a name inked on your body forever, it should belong to a pet, one of your kids, or—”

  “—Mom?” he asked dryly.

  She tried and failed to stifle a grin. “Yeah.”

  Apparently her grin was contagious because he was grinning back at her and they were staring at each other stupidly, and then not stupidly . . . and the room began to heat up.

  He strode with her out of the kitchen and she got breathless with anticipation. “Are we going to try again to prove neither of us is scared?” she asked.

  “Yes. As many times as you can take.”

  “I don’t have to be at work until eight in the morning.” She nipped at his throat.

  With a rough groan, he glanced at the time. “That gives us eight hours.”

  “Think it’s enough time?”

  “Not nearly, but I’m good at making do.”

  “I hope you’ve got a bed somewhere in this huge place.”