Since that night they’d adopted Lollipop, and maybe even far before that, she’d taken comfort from him. A lot of comfort. And now she was finally able to give him some of it back. “I’m so sorry, Caleb,” she whispered, her eyes stinging.

  He nodded and held on, and she knew with certainty that they were working toward something pretty amazing, something she’d never imagined having for herself.

  “Talk to me,” he said gruffly. “Take me out of my own head.”

  “Okay . . .” But she couldn’t think of anything. “What do you want me to talk about?”

  “You. Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

  He’d never asked anything of her, not once. And maybe it was that this strong powerful man could let himself be vulnerable with her, to her, that he could let himself need her, that made the difference. She took a deep breath and attempted to do the same. It was time, past time, to give him more of her, maybe even some of the dark parts she’d worked so hard to keep to herself.

  So she stared out into the dark night over his head and began to talk. “You wondered why I don’t have a lot of tattoos.” He’d asked several times now, and she’d avoided answering. “I love creating tattoos,” she said. “I also love applying my art to people and giving their skin a voice. And I love the few tattoos I have, very much. Each represents far more than art to me, and because of that, I wanted to honor them by making them my only ones.” She hesitated. “Two of them cover scars.”

  Caleb lifted his head to meet her gaze, his own dark, serious, and very intent on hers. “The ones on your thigh.”

  “Yes,” she said. “And as you also know, there’s a third, more recent scar I didn’t cover.” Because this was hard, much harder than she’d even imagined, she rose off his lap and moved to the window. The room was still dark, the only light came from the kitchen as she stared out into the night, her back to Caleb. “I was a cutter,” she murmured. “Which means—”

  Caleb’s hands gently slid to her hips. He’d come silently up behind her, entering her atmosphere. His heat warmed her back before his chest touched it, his arms slowly wrapping around her.

  “I know what it means,” he said quietly.

  She didn’t turn to face him. Couldn’t. She’d spent a lot of years being ashamed of herself, though she’d eventually gotten past that. But it was still difficult to talk about. “I started young. It’s hard to explain why because I’m not that same scared, lonely, frustrated, angry, hurting teenager anymore, but—”

  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Sadie. Ever.”

  Relief had her shoulders dropping from her ears. Emotion at his deep understanding of her clogged her throat. “I know,” she managed. “And thank you. But you’ve shared yourself with me, and I’ve held back. You’ve been patient, and that means more than I can say. You haven’t rushed me. But . . .” She closed her eyes. “I have a dark side to me, Caleb. Sharing it is hard, but I feel like you should know.” There was more, of course, but she wasn’t ready to reveal it. Didn’t know if she ever would be. “I cut on and off for four years,” she said quietly.

  A low sound of regret escaped from deep in his chest. “No one knew?” he asked. “No one was there for you?”

  She turned to face him. When she raised her eyes to his, she saw genuine concern and a carefully banked anger that she knew wasn’t directed at her. “No,” she said, “but to be fair to my family, I was very good at hiding it. And even better at pushing them away and keeping them out of my hair. I wasn’t suicidal.” She needed him to know that. “It was almost the opposite. I was so sad and angry and hurting, but I had nowhere to put all of it. Cutting was . . . like releasing the emotions. I can’t explain it better than that. I cut in the same two spots high on my thigh so I could hide it. And I didn’t tell anyone because I knew they wouldn’t understand, they’d think that I wanted to end it—” She shook her head. “But then, slowly, all those terrible, negative emotions inside of me drained away enough for me to breathe and I stopped. And when I knew I was past ever needing to go back to it, I covered the scars with the two tattoos you’ve seen. Heart over mind, courage over fear. It was like giving myself a second chance. A clean slate, with no reminders of where I’d once been.”

  “I loved those tattoos from the moment I first saw them,” he said, pulling her into him. “But now that I know the meaning behind them, I love them even more.” He brushed a kiss to the sweet spot beneath her ear. “Are you going to tell me about the third cutting scar, the one you didn’t cover?”

  Hello to yet another dark place deep inside her. She drew a deep breath. “I had a relapse.”

  Another low sound escaped him and he wrapped himself tighter around her as if he could protect her in the here and now from the ghosts of her past. “How long ago?”

  “Three years.”

  His hands were gentle when he cupped her face. “Does that timeline have anything to do with why you hadn’t been with anyone in three years?”

  “Yes.” She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his steady calm one. “I met someone,” she said. “Through my mom, actually. Wes was a lawyer.” She managed a small smile. “He was normal, at least compared to the guys of my past, the ones that were so bad for me, so I thought I’d give him a try. He was fun, charming, sweet . . . He wore suits.” She grimaced and let out a low laugh. “My parents adored him.”

  She felt Caleb draw in a deep inhale. “What happened?”

  “He . . .” She closed her eyes. “This is really embarrassing.”

  “Sadie, it’s me.” His hands were warm and tender on her face. “You can tell me anything.”

  Yeah, she was starting to get that. But she still couldn’t imagine telling him the whole story. “When he saw the tattoos on my thigh, he was fascinated by them, and I admitted that they covered my cutting scars.” She shook her head, still envisioning how he’d reacted.

  “Tell me he didn’t care,” Caleb said. “That he didn’t dump you because of that.”

  “No.” She actually found a low laugh. “He didn’t say anything about them at all. But as it turned out, he liked my dark side, a little too much.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He, um . . . wanted to watch.”

  Caleb went very still. “You mean he wanted to watch you cut yourself?”

  “Yeah. I guess it’s a fetish thing.”

  “Jesus.” Caleb dropped his forehead to hers. “Did you—?”

  “No.” She swallowed hard. “Not intentionally. One night after a fight, I . . . I thought I was alone, but he’d come in and was watching. I . . . it was a private thing, I was feeling sad and vulnerable and a little down, but when I realized he was watching and was really into it, it freaked me out. I dumped him.” She closed her eyes. “But I let him set me back.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not fair. I set myself back. That’s where the third scar comes from. I fell back into that pattern for a few months before I realized that I’d let a guy bring me back to that place. So I stopped. That was three years and a lifetime ago. Or so it seems.”

  “Is that why you specialize in tats for women and covering scars?” he asked.

  She lifted a shoulder. “It’s not easy to tattoo over a scar. I just want to be able to do the same for others if they need.”

  Whispering her name softly, he kissed her, sweet, lingering but just warm lips, no tongue. “Thanks for trusting me enough to share that part of you,” he said quietly. “I won’t ever break that trust. I know you’re not sure about us yet, but I’m sure enough for the both of us. You can take your time to tell me the rest, I’m not going anywhere.”

  “How do you know there’s more to tell?”

  “Because it’s still in your eyes.”

  And he wasn’t going to push. He was okay with her having her dark side. He was okay with her keeping it to herself if that’s what she needed. She’d never met anyone like him. Going up on tiptoes, she met his kiss with one of her own. The kind of kiss that did involve tongue. The kind of kiss that led to soft moans and hot hands and losing clothes and rolling across the mattress to their mutual satisfaction.

  An hour later, Caleb was sprawled flat on his back, fast asleep and maybe comatose. He looked sated, which she knew he was, and . . . content. And it was that which had doubts surfacing. He didn’t know it yet, but she wasn’t the right one for him. She was too jaded, too stubborn, too broken—

  “I can hear your brain spinning,” he mumbled, reaching for her without opening his eyes. “What’s wrong? You hungry? You want to fondle me in my sleep? I’m here for you, babe.”

  A smile formed without her consent at the drowsy quality of his deep voice. Even half asleep he was still in tune to her completely and it vanquished her wavering confidence. “I’m okay. I’m just going to go into the other room so I don’t keep you up.”

  “Nope.” He’d already dragged her into his embrace and now he tightened his grip, settling his face in the crook of her neck, kissing her there before falling back asleep.

  She waited until he was all the way out this time. With a sense of feminine pride for having put him in that state, she slipped quietly out of bed.

  Her intention had been for some more of the leftover mac and cheese, but she slowed at the kitchen table because Caleb’s laptop was open, sending a glow into the room.

  She didn’t mean to invade his privacy, but her gaze slid to the screen. It was open to his e-mail program and she couldn’t help it. One of the subject lines of an e-mail jumped up and grabbed her by the throat. She froze to the point that she wasn’t even breathing. What the actual hell. Her feet took her closer until she was standing at the table, staring at the subject line:

  Mercedes Lane, please read.

  Chapter 27

  #OhNoHeDidNot

  Caleb didn’t know what woke him up the next morning, but as he reached out and felt the cold sheets around him, he knew he was alone. He sat up and listened. The house was silent.

  Even Lollipop was gone.

  What the hell? He thought they’d gotten past this, past Sadie running scared. Just last night, they’d shared more of themselves than they ever had, and when they’d gone to bed . . . Well, the sensual, erotic memories would be fueling his dreams for a long time to come.

  So why had she left without a word? And, he realized as he rose from the bed and saw her discarded outfit scattered across his floor, without her clothes? What the hell? Had she gotten a call? Was there an emergency? Grabbing his phone from the nightstand, he activated the screen. Nothing from her, not a call, text, or e-mail. Nothing but work, a text from Kel, and an e-mail from Naoki’s night nurse that there’d been no change in his condition.

  Caleb strode through his house, but his gut was right. Sadie was gone. Moving quickly back to his bedroom, he pulled on the sweatpants from the night before and a T-shirt. He jammed his feet into his running shoes, grabbed his keys, and took off after her.

  It was too early for her to have gone to the day spa for her shift, so he went to her place. He got to her door and knocked.

  From inside, Lollipop went apeshit. She knew it was him.

  But Sadie didn’t open the door. Most likely because she too knew it was him.

  What the actual fuck?

  He knocked again, knowing the barking would drive Sadie nuts.

  Finally, the door whipped open and there she stood, the mystery of how she’d gotten home without clothes solved. She was wearing his overcoat belted tight around her waist, bare legs, and bare feet. Her hair was morning wild, just the way he loved it because it reminded him of how he’d had his hands fisted in it only a few hours before. He was pretty sure there was a beard burn on her throat, but when she caught his eyes going there, she yanked the collar of the coat closed. “How can anyone sleep with this racket?” she demanded.

  “They can, after they answer the door.”

  She slammed it shut.

  Okay. Call him a little slow, but he was starting to realize there hadn’t been any sort of emergency, and she hadn’t just gotten anxious because they’d gotten too close last night. Nope. She was pissed off at him for something else, but hell if he knew what. She rocked his world in ways he hadn’t known were possible, but she also aggravated him to the ends of the earth. Tired of this game, he pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked her door, only to come up against the chain. “Sadie. Let me in.”

  “I’m sorry, but hell hasn’t frozen over, so no.”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”

  “Like you don’t know.”

  “Arf!”

  He looked down to find Lollipop staring up at him with bright happy eyes, tail wagging. At least there was one female happy to see him.

  But then the dog was scooped up and vanished from view. “Sadie—”

  “Go away.”

  “Wait.” He put his foot in the door just as she tried to shut it. Grateful he was wearing the trainers that he’d actually designed for astronauts because this meant she couldn’t squish his foot, he held firm. “Talk to me,” he said. “What’s going on? A few hours ago you were in my bed panting my name and—”

  “—I most definitely did not pant your name.”

  “Yeah, you did. And you begged too, very sweetly.”

  The one eye he could see through the chained door narrowed. “Hey,” she said. “You did some of your own begging too, you know!”

  “I did,” he agreed. “And afterward, we fell asleep wrapped up in each other’s arms. But then I woke up alone, which is odd because you never wake up before me, much less functioning enough to get up and out of the house—without your clothes, no less. Which means you basically ran out of there like your ass was on fire. So I’m going to ask you again, what is going on?”

  “I saw what you did.” She undid the chain and opened the door to stare at him in his coat, and, he could see now, wearing one of his T-shirts which fell to her mid-thigh. Her eyes were filled with so much emotion it took his breath. Temper, most definitely, but hurt too, and it was that that killed him.

  “Sadie,” he said softly. “Tell me what you saw, what did I do?”

  “You have an e-mail. The subject line says, Mercedes Lane, please read.”

  He stilled. He had no idea how she could have seen his unopened e-mail—until he remembered his laptop on his kitchen table.

  She was watching his face. “So it’s true.”

  “It’s not what you think,” he said. “I—”

  “No. Don’t you dare try to explain this away. Now move your damn foot before I call the police.”

  It wasn’t the threat that had him moving his foot. He did it because her eyes had gone suspiciously bright and her breath hitched, and he knew she was nearing meltdown status and didn’t need to feel bullied while that was happening. “Okay,” he said, lifting his hands as he pulled his foot back. “But—”

  But nothing because the door once again slammed in his face.

  Before he could decide what to do, the door opened again and his coat and his T-shirt hit him in the face. Then, with a flash of sweet bare-ass naked curves, she once again slammed the door.

  Sadie headed straight to her bedroom for clothes. It was damn hard to maintain control when one’s bits were out in the breeze. She pulled on the first things she came to, a pair of black and gray camo leggings and a camisole, and then added a denim jacket because she was suddenly cold all the way to the bone.

  Lollipop came running for her, and at the sound of the little pitter-patter of her paws scrambling on the floor to get to her, Sadie’s eyes stung. Her precious little dog sat at her feet and stared up at her solemnly, her huge doggy eyes filled with concern.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “Just because I broke up with him doesn’t mean you did. Nothing will change for you, I promise.”

  The knock at her door made her grimace. “Gee, wonder who that could be.” She peered through the peephole and sighed.

  “I never opened the file,” he said through the wood.

  “But you have the file. You didn’t trust me enough to believe whatever I told you about myself.” She opened the door. “You didn’t take me at face value.”

  “Wait a minute,” he said. “Are you going to tell me that you’ve always taken me at face value?”

  “Yes.”

  He gave her a long look. “You called me Suits for the entire first year you knew me.”

  And though he was right, this only made her all the more mad because she’d never been able to handle someone shoving her own shit in her face. He was the one in the wrong here, dammit.

  “Sadie,” he said quietly, seriously. “You know my sisters have been running background checks on the new people in my life for a very long time. This was a matter of course, and I stopped it soon as I realized, which was when you came to me with the pics of Kayla stalking you. We’ve already argued about this. I never saw the contents of the file. I never wanted to.”

  “But you have the file. You didn’t even tell me.”

  “And I should have,” he said. “I’m very sorry I didn’t. I won’t make that mistake again. But I never read it, Sadie.” He looked into her eyes and a grim set came to his mouth. “I need you to believe me.”

  No, that was asking way too much. “You swore to me you weren’t having me followed,” she said. “And I believed you.”

  And wasn’t that the kicker. She’d been stupid enough to trust when she knew better. Shocked to find that she was suddenly feeling not good enough for him, a sensation she hadn’t experienced in a long time, she slipped into her boots, slung her purse over her shoulder, and handed Lollipop’s leash over to Caleb. “It’s your day and I won’t rob you of that,” she said. Bending low, she cuddled the dog and whispered, “See you tomorrow, baby.” Then she stood. “Goodbye, Caleb.”

  “Where are you going?”