I nod and, with another few deep breaths, I’m starting to feel like me again.
Danger averted. For the most part.
“I’m good. You worry about yourself for a change.” I joke, waving a dismissive hand at him. “You have my sat phone number if anything happens at the house.”
“You mean like someone trying to rob the place?” he asks, fully aware of its desolate state.
“Ha. Ha.”
As I get out of the car, the chilly night air has me feeling at home in my skin again. It shivers through me and flushes out my lungs with a fresh wave of cool. Shouldering my bag, I jog up the porch steps and wave at David as he swings the Audi back out into the woods. Then I head inside.
I pause when I find the front door unlocked.
I cautiously step inside, pushing the door wide to let in the moonlight. It streaks along the wooden floor, racing a path to a pair of heavy boots and the tall man filling them.
I breathe a sigh of relief when Caleb’s face is outlined in silver. So much for my thief in the night theory.
For a moment, I’m expecting some bolt of electricity to rock through me or to see some kind of rose-colored aura around Caleb’s head. Surely my little love-revelation in the car would have me seeing him differently? Ten feet tall perhaps, or outlined in glowing gold?
But nope. He’s still Caleb.
My reactions to him are the same as they have always been. There’s the rush of warmth making me feel at once comfortable and safe; the tingling down my spine that has me wanting to laugh; the itch on my palms and along the insides of my arms, demanding I wrap my arms around him, like my skin physically longs to touch his.
A few days ago, I had thought my symptoms were the result of some hard-core chemistry.
Now, I realize they were almighty warning signs.
Beware. This might be love.
Trying to snap myself out of it, I look around the house, every room a different shade of charcoal.
“Hey…” I greet with a soft laugh. “What are you doing mooching around in the dark?”
Caleb’s head goes on the swivel, blinking up and down the hallway. He seems surprised that he can’t see to the far end of it.
“I hadn’t noticed.”
Given his stance, it looks as if he’s been pacing, his eyes no doubt adjusting as the light dimmed. I reach for the light switch and we both blink in the sudden glare.
“How was your day?” I ask as I balance on one foot and reach to untie my laces. My attempt at humor seems out of place as Caleb braces his feet and folds his arms.
He stares at me.
“Fine,” he grunts.
Okay.
“Have you eaten?” I try again, switching legs and wobbling a little as I untie the other shoe.
“Yeah. You?”
“Just a sandwich at lunch. I took David by Ms. Penny’s cafe.”
“Leftovers in the fridge.”
I pause with one shoe still in hand.
Caleb isn’t exactly a man of many words, but I’m pretty sure this is another level. Not only that, but he seems unable to look me in the eye, casting his gaze at my forehead, my mouth, or my shoulders. Anywhere but my eyes.