With Me In Seattle: Bundle Two (4 page)

“I’m sorry I woke you,” she mutters and nuzzles her nose against my sternum.

I grin against her hair. She’s so fucking sweet.

So fucking
good.

“You didn’t.”

“You haven’t been to sleep yet?” she asks and yawns.

“Not yet.”

“Go to sleep, Caleb.”

She wraps her arm around my waist and presses herself against me from head to feet, twining her legs with my own, and damn if she doesn’t fit me perfectly.

Her body is long. In the ankle-breaking heels she insists on wearing out with the girls, she’s only a few inches shorter than my own six-foot-three.

“Caleb?” she asks sleepily.

“Yes, Bryn.”

“Sleep. That’s an order.”

I chuckle and bury my nose in her hair, keeping the scent of her close.

“Yes, ma’am.”

And to my utter surprise, I fall into the most restful sleep I’ve had in years.

Chapter Three

~Brynna~

I wake slowly, lazily and stretch out like a fat, lazy cat. I purposely keep my eyes closed and smile softly, remembering Caleb coming to my bed to comfort me after my horrific nightmare. I know he’s gone now, because the bed around me is cold, but having him hold me, comfort me, in the middle of the night was just…amazing.

The man is incredible shirtless. In all the time I’ve spent with him, I’ve never seen him without a shirt, and even in the dark, it’s a sight to behold.

Jesus, even his muscles have muscles.

I scrub my hands down my face and then open my eyes and frown.

It’s light outside. Too light to still be before my alarm is set to go off. I whip my head around to look at the alarm clock and gasp when I see the time.

I’m late!

“Damn, damn, damn,” I mutter and fling the covers off me. I race to the bathroom, yoga pants in hand, to quickly pee, brush my teeth and throw my hair up in a messy bun.

“Girls!” I call out and briskly walk through my room and down the hall to theirs. “We overslept!”

I push their door open, but their beds are empty.

“Girls?” I call out again and jog down the stairs. Just before I turn the corner to the kitchen, I hear Caleb and the girls laughing, so I stop short and listen.

“How old are you?” Josie asks.

“A lot older than you,” Caleb answers.

I can hear and smell bacon sizzling, and my stomach growls.

“Are you older than Mommy?” Maddie asks with her mouth full of something.

“Yes.” He chuckles. “I’m a couple years older than her.”

“Mommy is thirty,” Josie informs him. “She’s really,
really
old.”

“Are you older than the Empire State Building?” Maddie asks with awe in her little voice, and I cover my mouth so I don’t laugh out loud.

“Uh, do I look older than the Empire State Building?” he asks.

“Maybe,” Maddie responds.

“Do you have a dog?” Josie asks and slurps something. She must have talked him into another bowl of Cocoa Puffs.

“No,” Caleb answers.

“Do you have a cat?” Maddie asks.

“Nope.”

“Do you have an aldergator?” Josie asks loudly.

“You mean an alligator?” Caleb asks with a laugh.

“That’s what I said.”

“No, no pets. Especially not of the reptile variety.”

Deciding to rescue him, I shuffle into the kitchen, and my heart just stops. The girls are dressed, their long dark hair brushed, and they are happily eating a hearty breakfast of pancakes, eggs and bacon. And, of course, Josie has her precious Cocoa Puffs.

He’s taken care of my kids and let me sleep in.

The girls haven’t seen me yet, because their backs are to me, but Caleb looks up and offers me a soft smile. His eyes are warm and travel up and down the length of me, pausing at my legs.

“Sleep well?” he asks as I feel my cheeks warm.

“Too well,” I confirm and join him in the kitchen. “I overslept. Did you turn my alarm off?”

“Yeah, I figured you could use a little extra sleep. The girls and I have things under control down here.”

“Thank you.” I stand on tiptoe and kiss his cheek, then walk around the breakfast bar to hug my girls.

“Mornin’, Mama.” Josie throws her arms around my middle and hugs me tight.

“Good morning, baby girl. Did you sleep well?”

“Yep!”

“Caleb made gross eggs,” Maddie informs me and hugs me tight.

“He did?” I ask with a laugh and glance up at Caleb. “What kind of eggs were they?”

“Gross.” Maddie shrugs and turns back to her food.

“Poached,” Caleb says with a grin. “Not a big hit.”

“Ah.” I nod. “We’re more the scrambled-eggs type around here.”

“So noted.” He sets the girls’ dirty plates in the dishwasher and pulls a coffee mug down for me. “Coffee?”

“Yes, thanks, I’ll get it.”

“I can make you some eggs.”

“I’m good.” I shake my head and pour my coffee.

“Caleb, do you…” Maddie begins, but I cut her off.

“Enough with the questions for this morning. Go upstairs and brush your teeth and get ready to go. The bus will be here in ten minutes.”

“Mom, don’t forget today is dance class,” Maddie reminds me.

“I know. Stacy is picking you girls up from school and taking you.”

“Is this a once-a-week thing?” Caleb asks quietly.

“Yeah, Stace always picks them up and takes them. Sophie is in the same dance class.”

He nods and scoops eggs, bacon and pancakes onto a plate and digs in. His jean-clad hips are leaning against the countertop, and his bare feet are crossed. I watch in fascination as the muscles of his arms flex as he raises and lowers the fork to his mouth and feel my panties go wet and my nipples pucker.

Damn, he hasn’t even touched me, and I’m ready to strip naked and jump him.

“Mom, we’re ready!” Josie calls and runs into the kitchen.

“Okay, good. I’ll walk you to the bus.”

“I’ll walk you all to the bus,” Caleb says and sets his plate of half-eaten food aside.

“Eat your breakfast, Caleb. We’re fine.”

“I’ll walk you all to the bus,” he repeats, winks at me, and moves with easy grace into the living room to pull on a green jacket and his shoes.

Once we’re all bundled up, the girls pull their backpacks on, and we walk up the long driveway to the road. Josie takes my hand in hers, and Maddie reaches for Caleb. His handsome face looks surprised for a moment, and then he smiles down at her as we walk.

Within minutes, the bus pulls up, and the girls climb aboard, along with a few other neighborhood kids.

Caleb and I stand and wait for the bus to pull away before walking back to the house. As we start the walk down the drive, I shove my hands in my pockets, fighting off the chill in the air, and glance over at him. He’s on high alert, his eyes scanning the house, the trees, the bushes.

“What are you looking for?” I ask and follow his gaze.

“Anything that doesn’t seem to fit.”

Everything looks normal to me.

“Aren’t you guys being a little overcautious?” I ask and am met with an icy blue stare.

“No.”

“Okay.” I shrug and lead him back into the house. “Well, you survived your first Spanish Inquisition.”

Caleb laughs and pulls his jacket off, hangs it on the tree by the door, and takes mine to do the same.

“They’re really sweet girls, Bryn.”

“Thank you.” I nod. “But they ask a lot of questions.”

“Yes, they do.” Caleb shakes his head and laughs. “I almost think I’d rather be interrogated by the enemy. At least then all I have to give them is my name, rank and serial number.”

“Don’t say that,” I mutter and hug him around the middle tightly, surprising him.

“Hey, what’s this?”

“That’s just not funny,” I whisper and then back away, embarrassed. “I worried about you a lot.”

“Why?” he asks with raised brows.

I roll my eyes at him and sigh deeply. “Oh, I don’t know, Caleb. Maybe because you were constantly going God knows where, doing God knows what, and I knew it was dangerous, and I was on pins and needles until you came back home safely.”

He flounders for a moment, and I realize I’ve just shocked the shit out of him.

Does he really not understand how much I care for him?

“Don’t worry about it.” I shake my head and turn away, walking briskly into the kitchen. “I’m happy you’re safe. Just don’t make jokes like that.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he whispers behind me, making me grin as I load the rest of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, put a tab of soap into the round compartment and start it.

“What do you have going on today?” he asks gruffly.

“I have errands to run this morning, then I don’t have anything until the kids get home around six. I’ll start dinner around five.”

“Okay, well, let’s get ready to head out then. After your errands, we have someplace to go.”

“Where?”

His face is still sober as he watches me. Something has changed in his eyes, in his posture. He looks…confused.

“You’ll see,” he mutters and turns to leave the room.

***

“I don’t know about this,” I mutter and watch as Caleb pushes a clip into his handgun with a loud
snick.

“You need to learn,” he reminds me for the thousandth time since we left the post office and he told me we were coming to the shooting range.

“Why? I don’t like the idea of having a gun in the house with the girls.”

“The girls won’t be shooting it.” He passes me a pair of clear shooting glasses and ear protection.

“Caleb, accidents happen.”

“Number one,” he begins, his voice hard, jaw locked and eyes cold. He’s in military mode.

It’s fucking scary as hell.

“Any weapon in your house will either be on our person or locked away. The girls will never have an opportunity to have an
accident.
” He cocks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to respond.

I’ll be damned if I will say,
Yes, sir.

“Okay,” I respond and lift my chin.

His lips twitch before he continues.

“Number two, you need to learn this so you can protect yourself. The people who may or may not be looking for you are dangerous, and they
will
have firearms. Your screwdriver can’t compete with that.”

“Hey,” I begin, but he cuts me off.

“And number three…” He leans in to whisper in my ear, “Don’t be a pussy.”

That does it. Just like that, I’m fucking pissed as hell.

Pussy?
I’m no damn pussy.

I narrow my eyes at him and push my face up to his. “Bring it on, sailor.”

“Good girl,” he mutters and grins down at me proudly. “Have you ever held a handgun before?”

“No.”

“Okay.” He holds it up for me to inspect. “This is the safety. It’s off because we’re about to shoot it.” He grins at me, and I can tell he loves this. “This magazine has ten rounds in it. I have four more magazines with me.”

“Got it.” I nod, staring at the black weapon in his hands, completely at a loss.

“Do you want me to go first?” he asks.

“Yes, please.”

He nods, pushes his own glasses onto his face and sets his target. I glance around the range and take in the smell of gunpowder and male sweat. It’s deserted right now, in the middle of a weekday. We are at the farthest window down and are completely alone.

And Caleb is completely in his element.

“Stand back just a bit. I don’t want one of these hot shells to hit you when it comes out of the pistol.”

“Got it.” I take my place, and when he’s satisfied that I’m safe from getting hit, he turns to the target, raises the gun in both hands, arms extended and muscles completely flexed, and takes his first shot.

And I’m immediately wet and panting.

For the love of all that’s holy, this man is pure, unadulterated sex on a fucking stick.

He squeezes the trigger slowly for a couple of shots, and then empties the magazine quickly, not taking his eyes off the target.

When he looks back at me, he smiles smugly and pulls his target to him.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Fine.” I clear my throat and feel my eyes widen when his target approaches. There is a cluster of small holes in the chest and another in the top of the head. “Nice shot.”

He shrugs and replaces the target with a fresh one and sends it out. “Your turn.”

“Maybe you should take another turn,” I mention, trying to keep my voice light. I’m suddenly nervous as hell.

“Pussy,” he whispers and laughs when I glare at him. He pulls out the empty clip and hands me a new one and the gun. “Load your magazine.”

I do, clumsily.

“Relax, baby, you’ll get the hang of it. You just need practice.”

My heart stutters at
baby
.

“Now, face the target. Feel the weapon in your hands, Bryn. It’s heavy. When it fires, it’s going to have a bit of a recoil.”

“Oh goody,” I murmur.

“You’ll be fine.”

I face the target and stare down at the weapon in my hand. How did I get here? How did my life come to this?

“Raise the gun.”

I follow his order and stare hard at the target roughly twenty yards from me.

I squeeze the trigger, and the first shot recoils harder than I expected, making me jump and stumble back a bit.

“Easy,” Caleb murmurs behind me.

“I’m fine.” Maybe if I keep saying it, I’ll start to believe it myself.

He moves up behind me and nudges my feet apart. “Widen your stance for balance.”

I fire again, and my blood thickens as adrenaline pumps hard and fast through me.

It doesn’t take a Navy SEAL to figure out how to line up the sights, and I squeeze the trigger again and again, my body taught with aggression that I didn’t even know I’d been holding.

Shooting is great therapy.

When the magazine is empty, Caleb wordlessly shows me how to switch it out, and I continue to throw the bullets down the range, clip after clip, until all four are spent.

I set the heavy gun on the shelf, pull my goggles and ear protection off and step back. I have to lock my knees, because my legs feel like Jell-O and I’m afraid I’ll fall. My arms are humming, I’m panting, and I swear to God, I could run a marathon.