“You are not angry?”
Angry? Caleb didn’t have to ask what sort of f**ker she’d been married to. He’d heard plenty. He really wished he could meet Gordon in a dark alley and let the goddamn ass**le be on the receiving end of some pain. Yes, he knew that the ex-douche bag hadn’t hit Carlotta, but he’d been abusive in virtually every other way—stifling her, stripping her of her confidence and self-worth, making her feel small.
“Never. I asked you to decorate, so I’m not going to tell you how to do it or where to shop. I might remind you about the budget now and then, but this project is meant to make the kids feel more at home. If something in that shop works in their house, then go for it.”
“Thank you, Caleb.” Damn, her soft voice went straight to his dick. “How long do I have?”
They needed to get to work, and he knew it. But after years of her voice being smothered, he didn’t have the heart to cut her too short. “Text me in thirty minutes. I should have retrieved the flooring by then. If you’re done there, you can look at it and pick out the paint. We’ll have to see what cabinets they have in stock and discuss what else we might need. How’s that?”
Her smile could have lit up half his life. “Perfect.”
Chapter 3
Thirty minutes later, Carlotta left the home décor store with a bag in hand. She clutched the plastic handles and smiled. It wasn’t much, just pale gray-on-white placemats, a set of elegant wine glasses, a trio of white pillar candles with modern faceted crystal holders, and sepia-toned wall art she felt sure would be lovely in the dining room.
She sent Caleb a quick text that she was on her way over. He replied back that he’d meet her by the door. In less than two minutes, he stood there with a flatbed cart loaded with all kinds of flooring boxes and supplies, exactly as he had said he would.
Yes, he seemed the sort of man who would do as he had promised, but she had grown far too accustomed to Gordon, who had broken virtually every promise he had ever made to her, including their wedding vows.
Shoving the thought aside, she peered down at the cart. “Everything is ready, then?”
“Absolutely.” He took the bag from her hand and carefully balanced it on top of all his other items. “I’ve seen the flooring. The hardwood is dark. They called it handscraped Brazilian cherry.”
Carlotta clapped happily. “That will be lovely and warm. I can do a great deal with that. And the tile?”
“A ceramic that mimics the look of a gray-veined natural stone.”
“I can work with that as well. Kata will enjoy those colors. Size?”
“There are a few here, some rectangular, some square, along with little one by one tiles. I’ll need to ask Hunter what he was thinking.”
“Probably a multiple-tile pattern. I will study them and figure it out. Do we know what cabinets are in stock yet? And the countertop options?”
“Come with me, Lottie.” He turned and positioned the cart behind him, dragging it with one hand. The other he held out to her as he looked at her with those blue eyes that seemed to penetrate straight to her soul.
Her stomach knotted and danced, but she put her palm to his. He held her close, his grip strong but not confining. Would she find the man to be the same? Or would his strength turn overpowering?
They walked to the back of the store, and he quickly commanded the attention of someone who assisted them in selecting a configuration of cabinets among those in stock. Hunter and Kata preferred a more modern style, and these were perhaps a bit traditional, but with the right palette and accessories, she could make it all work. Countertops were thankfully much simpler. Carlotta didn’t like the choices at the big-box store and knew a former coworker whose husband worked for a granite fabricator. A phone call later, he hooked them up with some remnants for half the price in a color that would accent the new kitchen in gorgeous fashion.
After arranging for the cabinets to be delivered the following day, they strolled to the paint department. She was surprised by how patient Caleb remained while she selected colors for nearly every room in the house so that each room would have its own identity but each room would blend together. She tried not to dither, but it was not a two-minute process.
While they waited to have the paint mixed, Caleb peeked into her bag from the home décor store. “Nice.”
He pulled out one of the candleholders, so she reached in and withdrew a candle, balancing it on top. “I think they will provide a bit of everyday elegance.”
Caleb sent her a considering stare. “I’m so glad you’re here. I really would be lost without you.”
Of course he meant the decorating…but at the thought that maybe he just might mean matters more personal, her foolish heart fluttered. Gorgeous, stable, educated, and attracted to her—in the few dates she’d gone on since her divorce, that seemed a tall order. Most men were bitter from ugly divorces, wanting a mother for their young children—or themselves—or still living with their parents and never been married with good reason.
“Why are you still single?” she blurted. Then she realized how rude that sounded and pulled back with an apology on her tongue.
He gripped her hand again, and this time used it to drag her against his body. “Curious about me, Lottie?”
“I-I just mean…you seem very, well…almost perfect. I cannot imagine that some woman seeking a man of such…” Magnetism. Potent appeal. Sexual pull. She settled on something far more benign. “Intelligence and kindness did not lure you away long ago.”
“Nope. I haven’t been all that interested.” He dipped his head, his lips brushing her ear. “Until now. Do you have any idea how badly I want to kiss you?”
His words went straight to that place that no man had touched in years. Her womb clenched. She gasped, and a little smile fluttered over his face. “Caleb…”