Caleb (51 page)

More
footsteps approached the door and she stiffened. Caleb held her to him. “It’s
all right, baby. It’s just friends checking to be sure you’re okay.”

As if
to prove him right, Jace asked, “Is she okay?”

Caleb
tucked her face into his neck, apparently no more eager to be separated from
her than she was to be separated from him. “Cold, tired, and a little startled
from all the fuss, but she’s fine.”

“In
that case,” Jared said, his voice easily recognizable by its flat timbre, “the
leader of the D’Nallys wants to talk to you.”

“Tell
the son of a bitch to wait.”

Allie
tucked her head under Caleb’s chin, relaxing into the caress he couldn’t seem
to end, understanding the pride that kept him from speaking the emotions that
put that fine tremor in his hand. She would have liked the words, but she could
settle for just knowing he cared. “You can’t call the man who just saved your
butt a son of a bitch.”

Caleb’s
chin slid across her skull, the point of pressure telling her he was staring at
the door. “The man doesn’t look like he objects to being called a son of a
bitch.”

“Not
in the least.”

The
mocking amusement in Ian’s voice brought her head up. He was standing on the
other side of the opening, naked as the day he was born, throwing invisible
challenges at Caleb who seemed to be picking them up as fast as they were
tossed.

“Do
you ever wear clothes?”

The
firm line of Ian’s mouth softened as he glanced at her. “They get in the way.”

She
guessed they would. She laid her head back onto Caleb’s chest, squeezing him
around the waist as she gloried in his continued existence. “Thank you.”

“For
not wearing clothes?”

“For
saving Caleb.”

Caleb’s
grip loosened slightly. She could feel his annoyance. “If there is any thanking
to be done, I’ll handle it for the Johnsons.”

She
waved her hand. “Go right ahead then. I’m finished.”

Instead
of the reprimand she expected, the lightest of kisses ruffled her hair. “You
still angling for that spanking?”

“I
thought we already went over that.”

“Apparently
not enough,” Caleb said dryly.

“She
does lack respect.”

Allie
shot Ian a glare. “Just because I don’t worship at the altar of your dangling
bits does not mean I don’t respect what needs respecting.”

Masculine
guffaws erupted from the other side of the door. She ignored it, the same way
she ignored the were’s amusement.

She
tilted her head back to see Caleb’s face. “Are the bad guys dead?”

“They’ve
had a change of heart.”

She
took that to mean they’d beaten a strategic retreat. “Good.”

The
door creaked. Wolves slid into the opening, deadly shadows disappearing one by
one down the tunnel. Ian glanced at the silent exodus. “We will be leaving
now.”

“You
ever need help, give a holler,” Caleb said in that steady drawl that backed
whatever promise he made with the force of his personality.

Ian
nodded. His head lifted, as if listening to a voice only he could hear. “The
feud with the Johnsons is suspended.”

Allie
had never heard better news. “It’s about time.”

Ian
cut her a sharp glance, his golden eyes flaring with light. “Not ended,
suspended.”

“And?”
There’d better be an otherwise or she’d choke on the hope bursting through her.

“Allie
. . .” She ignored Caleb’s warning, not taking her eyes from Ian’s.

His
lips quirked. “The ‘and’ is not for discussion with a female.”

Her
elbow in Caleb’s gut cut off his chuckle. “That is so backward.”

Ian
shrugged. “But our way.”

She
had to grab with her thighs as Caleb let go of her hip to hold out his hand.
“Watch your back.”

Ian
glanced down at her before smiling at Caleb and taking the extended hand in
his. “And you watch yours.”

Before
she could come up with a retort to the implication she was trouble, Ian changed
and was gone in a flow of shadow. The only thing he left behind was the humor
of his parting comment.

Jared
stepped farther into the corridor. “You know, if he wasn’t so dead set on killing
us, I could probably get to like him.”

Caleb
stared into the room beyond the door, his jaw set as he viewed the carnage, and
then followed the wolves’ progress down the tunnel. “Like it or not, I’m just
glad they landed on our side. How many did we lose?”

“Only
two, but there are a lot of injuries.” Jared’s gaze followed Caleb’s. “Without
the D’Nallys it would have been a lot worse.”

“Yup.”
Caleb rested his chin back on her head. “Never did see anyone retreat so fast
as those Sanctuary types when they realized the odds had just evened up.”

Jared’s
agreement was a twitch of his lips as he touched blood trickling down his chin.
“Of course, one of those D’Nallys is worth two of them in a fight, so maybe it
wasn’t so much cowardice as brains that had them turning tail.”

Caleb
brushed the dirt off her jeans. “Next time it won’t be easy.”

Allie
tried not to think of that. “So the D’Nallys know how to clean out a room.”

Jared
wiped at his cut lip with his shirtsleeve. “That they do.”

Caleb
glanced through the door again. “Too bad they leave such a mess.”

Both
men looked at her. Allie shook her head. “Don’t look at me to clean it up. I’m
in a delicate way.”

Unbelievably,
Jared’s hard eyes softened with humor and, good grief, respect? “I haven’t noticed
it slowing you down to date.”

She
slumped against Caleb, mustering her most fragile feminine air. “It just kicked
in.”

A
smile flashed across his stern features. “I bet it did.”

She
stroked Caleb’s chest, feeling his joy at the victory, his satisfaction at
defending his home. It didn’t seem fair to burst his bubble right now, but he
deserved to know.

The
sigh as he set her on her feet told her that he knew something was bothering
her. She turned in the curve of his arm as he looked down at her. “I’m feeling
pretty good right now, Allie girl.”

“I
know.”

He
pushed her bangs off her face. “Real good. As a matter of fact, I’m thinking
there’s a victory cigar and a neat whiskey with my name on it waiting on me in
the kitchen.”

She
bit her lip. She was really getting tired of the one bringing the bad news. “I
know.”

His
thumb tugged her lip from between her teeth. “But you’re not going to let me
enjoy either, are you?”

“It
can wait.” Maybe.

He
frowned, his eyes studying her face. And then sighed. “The news won’t get any
better for dragging it out.”

She
gripped her hands in front of her. “I know, but I just hate always being the
bearer of bad news.”

“You
haven’t borne anything yet.” Leave it to Slade to point out the logical.

“What
are you trying to tell us?”

She
met Caleb’s gaze, guilt blending with dread. He didn’t need this. “It’s really
good that you’re learning to make friends.”

“Why?”

She
squeezed her fingers harder. “Because I don’t think Vincent and company were
the only voices in my head.”

ALLIE
was going to develop a twitch if she didn’t learn to
relax.

Caleb
took another drag on his cigar, and leaned back in his chair. He still had half
a shot of whiskey to enjoy, and as determined as Allie was to hop to the next
challenge, he was just as determined to celebrate overcoming today’s. The woman
hadn’t been around long enough to know there was always another battle, that
the only real peace to be found was in the moments in between, but he had, and
the way he saw it, tomorrow was soon enough to deal with preparing for the next
Sanctuary attack, to find out who sent the telepathic message that he wasn’t
alone, and to square things once and for all with the D’Nallys. But right now
there was peace, and he just wanted to enjoy his cigar, his whiskey, and his
woman.

The
cigar ash hung precariously. Caleb tapped it off in the black onyx ashtray he
kept for just such occasions. “You really need to learn to slow down.”

Allie
jumped. The pan she was washing clattered on the counter. She cast him one
quick, startled glance and then a blush rose on her cheeks. “I’m working on
it.”

He
smiled around his cigar. Nice to know the woman’s mind was on lovemaking as
much as his. “There, too, but I was talking about life in general.”

The
pan hit the drying rack with a thunk. She turned, hands on hips, and glared at
him. Gold sparks fired off in the depths of her eyes, making them appear even
bluer as she stood there in that barely-there red knit dress challenging him.
“You did not just tell me you have a gripe about my lovemaking.”

He
stubbed the cigar out. He really didn’t like the things, but the one memory he
had of his father was of him lighting up a cigar at the end of a good day and
sitting on the small porch of their house with his feet propped up, enjoying
the satisfaction of a job well done. The scent of cigar smoke still meant
contentment to him. The whiskey had been his own addition to the ritual. He
picked up the glass. “What if I did?”

With
short aggressive jerks, Allie wiped her hands on a blue checked towel. “I think
I’d have to kill you.”

He
grinned, dropped his chair back to four legs, and grabbed her hand. Two tugs
and he had her stiff and unyielding in his lap, that sexy dress riding
obligingly up her thighs. He nuzzled his way through her hair until he found
the outer curve of her ear. She had very sensitive ears. “You know damn well
you burn me up in bed.”

She
didn’t soften. “I know your vampire appreciates me there.”

He
took the lobe between his teeth, ignoring her swat, and focused on her shiver
as he bit down gently. She smelled of lemon dish soap and warm, willing woman.
“Aren’t you the one who keeps telling me that me and my vampire are one and the
same?”

“Aren’t
you the one who keeps telling me they’re not?”

There
was a tremor in that flat question that had him pulling back. The view he had
of the top of her head didn’t tell him a thing, but the tense way she held her
head did. He gathered her hair in his hand, enjoying its silky feel against the
roughness of his skin as he tugged it back so he could see her face. The
annoyance he expected was there, along with the tension that came from
lingering adrenaline, but there was something unexpected, too. An aching
vulnerability that squeezed his heart. Damn. “And you’ve chosen now to start
taking me at face value?”

She
shrugged and looked down at the towel wadded into a bunch in her hands. “It
doesn’t matter what I believe.”

Yes,
it did. The whole paranormal world knew he was ass over bandbox for the woman,
but this woman, his woman, was uncertain as to whether he felt the same way
about her as she did about him. How had he managed to screw this up so badly?

He
hooked his finger under that stubborn chin and lifted. It took more than the usual
amount of effort to get her face up. As soon as he got a glimpse of her
expression, he knew why. There were times in everyone’s life when they just
wanted something too much to even hope it could be. He smoothed his thumb over
her lower lip. “Ah, Allie girl, I’m sorry.”

She
blinked rapidly and the wobbliest smile he’d ever seen stretched the skin under
his fingers. “It’s not like it’s something you can control.”

“No,
it’s not.” What he felt for her was wild and uncontrollable. Deep, hot, and
permanent. She sniffed and her eyes watered, but all the while she battled
tears, that smile firmed up under the sheer force of will she applied to it.
One lone drop escaped her control to hover on her lashes. He caught it on his
thumb before it could spill. “You want me to go get Ian back here so he can
kick my butt from here to Sunday?”

“Why?”

“Because
I’m an ass for not telling you how I feel.”

“How
you feel, or your vampire feels?”

She
was going to beat that dead horse into the ground, he could tell. “When it comes
to loving you, it’s one in the same.”

“You
don’t have to say that.”

“Obviously,
there’s a whole lot I should have said before now.” He sighed and smoothed the
tear into her cheek until nothing was left to mark its existence. “In all the
time I’ve known you, you’ve never held back. You give with every bit of emotion
in you—”

“I’ve
always been a bit impulsive.”

The
little squirm that punctuated that statement was a clear indicator of how
uncomfortable with that part of her personality she was. She had nothing to
worry about. He pushed the bangs off her face. “I’ve developed a real taste for
impulsive.”