Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (23 page)

I just blew out a deep breath in reply and squeezed his hand as Caleb gestured with his head toward my display. All ten paintings had been set up with the proper lighting and organization I'd asked for. I'd been obsessing about the arrangement for the two last months when I first found out my work had been chosen for the semester showcase. The light really did highlight all the textures, colors, and you could even see the angle I'd used with my paintbrush.

Caleb stepped even closer until he was close enough to touch them. His Adam's apple bobbed in his throat a few times and his hands sunk deep into his pockets as he took in each stroke and each dash of color. It was fitting that the first one he stood in front of was the one inspired by the new life we were building together.

"What do you think?" I murmured to him, taking my place beside him.

His eyebrows rose and his gaze flicked back to me for a second before returning back to the painting in front of him. "What do I think, Iz? I think it's absolutely beautiful. I mean, I still don't really understand what I'm looking at here, but I know I love it. I know it's special."

"Well," I laughed and leaned into his shoulder. "It's abstract. It's supposed to be all about the feelings, the emotions."

He grinned down at me proudly and then his eyes fell back on the canvas filled with bright, happy twirls in splashes of yellows, blues, and greens. "So what were you feeling when you painted this one?"

My eyes flew back to the display and my hand reflexively landed right on top of my little baby bump. "I was thinking about the baby."

Caleb turned his head to face me again with a tender smile spread across his face and he draped an arm around my shoulder to tuck me in close. We stood there for a little while, staring dreamily up at my painting, and finally, I felt myself relax.

"You're gonna put that in the nursery, right?"

"Oh yeah. Definitely."

"Good," he grinned and then we moved on to the next piece, my earliest attempt at a nature scene depicting a lone figure walking through a maze of autumn leaves and earthy tones. "What about this one?"

 
"My mom," I exhaled and quickly jumped to explain when his face fell a little. "When we got home from the doctor's office right after she found out she had cancer, she didn't say much. She just announced she wanted to go for a walk and left."

His eyebrows rose at that and I smiled back absentmindedly as the memory washed over me again.
 

"I kinda freaked out," I went on, my lips quirking up when he grinned knowingly. "I guess I just didn't want to be anywhere she wasn't. I also didn't see the benefit of someone with stage four lung cancer going for a walk anywhere by herself. But when she came back, she just seemed so peaceful. So accepting. Almost happy, too, if that makes any sense. I couldn't understand it. I
still
don't really understand it. I guess I just wanted to see if I could figure out what she was feeling when she went on that walk, how she could set aside all the bad and choose to just focus on the good and be happy. I don't know if I'll ever understand that."

Caleb tilted his head to the side a little, his eyes trained on my painting as he spoke. "I don't know what your mom was thinking that day, but if it's anything like that," he gestured with his head to the canvas, "I think I can see where she was coming from."

I smiled softly. "Thanks."

His eyes gave me the strength I needed to continue on and I walked him through the rest of my exhibit, the one inspired by my conflicted emotions surrounding my dad, one inspired by Chloe that I planned on gifting to her as soon as the showcase was over, a few pieces detailing both my anxiety and my passion for this new career path I was heading down, the ones inspired by him, and finally, the one about Becca with its slashes of crimson.

He wrapped both arms around me, enveloping me in warmth and safety.

"I'm so fuckin' proud of you I can barely see straight," he whispered into my hair. "Every single one, Iz...they're all you. You blew all these other sorry assholes here tonight right outta the water."

"You didn't even see the other exhibits."

He shrugged with his arms still around me and bent down to press his lips against mine. "Didn't have to."

"I love you."

Caleb smiled against my lips. "I love you, too."

.
     
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Caleb

I wasn't exactly looking forward to having this conversation with Isabelle, but I didn't really have a choice either. We were leaving for the run tomorrow and the details were already set in stone. The drop-off location and time were ready to go. Marcus had pretty much immediately decided that our 'usual' meeting location was a no-go this time around and I could see his point. Better to be safe than sorry.

We'd be making the exchange with the Warlord's VP, Theo Wallace, as well as two other club members. This was just typical shit, nothing new, nothing to be worried about and come Tuesday, I'd have an extra $15K sitting in my hands.

The problem now would be Isabelle.

I watched her take her high heels off and toss her purse down on the kitchen table; it was that moment that I made the immediate decision to butter her up as much as I could. When I handed her the ice cream she'd all but annihilated before we left the house earlier, she cocked a suspicious eyebrow at me.

"What?" I shrugged innocently. "I thought maybe you wanted a snack or something before we went to bed."

"Sure," she drawled and hesitantly took the ice cream from me. "This is weird."

All I could do was watch her hop up on the counter and brace myself for the inevitable fall-out while she dug in. I let her get a few healthy bites in before I took a deep breath and came out with it.

"Iz, I need to talk to you about something."

The ice cream carton immediately dropped down to the counter.

"Okay."

I took a deep breath. "Dom and I are goin' on a run tomorrow."

Her mouth dropped open a little and jumped on the opportunity to explain before she could beat me to the punch.

"I know what you're thinkin', Iz," I held my hands up in defense. "I'll be back in plenty of time before Saturday. It'll just be a few days and I should be home by Tuesday—Wednesday at the absolute latest, okay?"

Isabelle stared back me, her mouth still lodged open in surprise and then she started shaking her head in disbelief.

"Wha...wait. I don't understand. Why are you doing this?"

"Marcus brought it to the table tonight. That's what church was about. We'll get to Pittsburgh and back in plenty of time before the wedding and Dom and I are gonna get $15,000 out of the deal, Iz. That's kinda insane, right?"

"Yeah," she replied in a tight, flippant voice that already had me wincing. "It is insane. Very insane. And what happened to us talking everything through before making a decision that affects both of us?"

I frowned back at her. "We are talking, Iz."

Her face turned stony as she hopped off the counter. "No, we're not. This isn't us having a productive discussion. This is you making up your mind
again
before talking to me about it
again
and now you're just telling me after the fact...
again
."

"This is club business. It's not the same."

"So you're saying you leaving for this run tomorrow doesn't affect me at all?"

I blew out a hard breath and tugged a hand through my hair. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I knew you weren't gonna be happy, but, Iz, this is for the club. This is to help keep the peace between us and one of our business contacts. I hate to break it you, but those kind of decisions don't really concern you."

Her eyes flashed and now she was leaning against the counter with her arms folded across her chest defiantly. "The fact that this is stupid and risky and just dumb
when the club has been having all these problems lately
—
that you could get
caught
—that doesn't concern me at all?"

"I never said that."

"Yes, you did. And that's really not fair, you know."

"We already made the arrangements, Iz," I lifted a shoulder. "And we'll be back before you know it. Would you just calm down?"

Oh shit. I'd just made a huge mistake.

Her arms fell from her sides and she was advancing on me now, fire raging in those blue eyes, until we were toe-to-toe.

"No, I will not calm down. I just don't get it, Caleb. Why does it have to be
you
taking this kind of risk?"

I sighed again and tugged another hand through my hair, reaching for her with my free hand, but she batted it down. "We could really use that money right now, Iz."

Her eyes widened. "That's what this is about? Money? Are we...wait a minute. Is there something else you haven't told me?"

"We're not exactly in the red or anything, but think about all the money I've had to spend recently. The house. Everything in our house. Everything we need for the baby."

"We can figure something else out," she whispered, her eyes still wide with awareness. "We can cut back. I can work more hours at the shop. I can—"

"You're not working more hours at the shop," I cut in and rested both hands on her waist before she could stop me. "I'm not gonna let you."

"Oh?" she shot back and pushed both hands into my chest until her hips slipped out of my grasp. "You're not gonna let me? That's such bullshit, Caleb. You have to let me contribute a little bit. It shouldn't have to come down to doing something dangerous like this just so we can make ends meet."

"Look, Iz, you said so yourself that babies are expensive. Now that all those doctor bills are coming in, I'm seeing how right you were. We need the money and this is how I make my money. This is how I pay for the house you're living in, the food you eat, the bed you sleep in, the couch, the TV, everything in this goddamn house, your doctor bills, everything you want for the baby, that wedding you wanna have."

I hadn't meant for my anger to bleed through this way, but I just needed her to understand. I needed her to understand this wasn't really about her. It was about me taking care of her the only way I knew how. And even though I hadn't meant to hurt her with those words, the pain and animosity in her eyes still blazed an angry blue.

"Okay," she whispered furiously. "I see how it is. If you want me to pay you rent or something, I can do that. I have my own money, too, you know. Not a lot of it, but I can help. I don't see why you feel like it has to be you
that pays for everything. Like I'm never going to make my own money, right? Like I'll never be able to help provide for my
family too?"

"No, Iz, that's not what I meant—"

"I understood you perfectly, Caleb," she cut in. "The last thing I want is to be a freeloader. We should've talked about this when we first moved into the house, but there are other ways we can make ends meet, okay?"

"That money could get us more things we need," I told her, desperate now for her to just get it. "Furniture for the nursery. That dress you want for the wedding after the baby gets here. That place you found online for the reception. The mortgage on our house. Your tuition—"

"You're
not
paying my tuition, Caleb. You shouldn't have to do that. I have student loans and—"

"And," I told her pointedly. "When we get married, your debt will become my debt too, won't it?"

She sucked in a shaky breath. "That's not fair."

"That's the way it is," I shrugged. "And don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem covering any of it. I want to. That's the point, Iz. I want to provide for you and our family and get you anything you want. But to do that, I have to take these jobs. I have to go where the money is."

Isabelle blew out a breath and shook her head. "I can take a semester or two off after the baby comes. Dr. Jacobs was talking to me at the showcase about getting my studio hours done before the baby's born, taking time off, and daycare options. I don't know. Maybe it'll just be easier if I take some time off. Then I'd be able to work more hours at the shop and—"

"You're not taking any time off from school, Iz. At least not a full semester. You can't."

Now, her eyes were blazing again. "Don't tell me what to do, Caleb. You're perfectly willing to walk around and do whatever the hell you want without consulting me first, so why can't I do the same?"

"After the baby gets here, you'll just have, what? Three semesters left? You can't take a break, Iz. You need to finish. If you take a break, who knows when you'll be able to go back?"

She had to know I was right about at least that. The last thing I wanted was to see her give up her passion because I couldn't be the man I needed to be and put food on the table. Instead, she just backpedalled until her hips hit the counter.

"That's not your decision to make," she told me icily. "You don't get a say in
my
career."

"I just want the best for you, Iz," I held my hands out in the air and lifted a shoulder. "That's all this is about. I don't wanna fight with you, but I need you to understand this is just something I have to do."

Her chest was heaving now as she glared back at me, hot, angry tears welling up in her eyes. "I get where you're coming from with the money and the bills and the house and everything else that goes with it. I can't understand
this
. I can't understand something that would put you in danger—something that would put you at risk."