Caleb's Mate - Becca Jameson Page 0,17
night before in jeans, boots, and a tight Navy T-shirt. His fingers were tucked in the front pockets of his jeans, and for once he looked slightly chagrinned, rocking back and forth on his feet, head cocked to one side. “Forgive me?” His gaze remained on her face for several seconds, but he eventually glanced down at her body and back up.
She should have known he would hunt her down, and she probably shouldn’t have changed into something so revealing. She’d only been thinking of her comfort when she’d put on the white tank top and jean shorts. She didn’t even have shoes on. After all, her day was going to be spent working on the house. She needed to be comfortable.
Elena leaned against the frame of the door and rolled her eyes toward him as she crossed her arms. “Seriously though. What did you think was going to happen when we arrived at your office? Did you think we would laugh it off and hold hands and sing Kumbaya?”
He chuckled. “Well, no. But I didn’t expect you to turn around and leave either.”
“You lied to us.”
He cringed. “Not really. We honestly didn’t know you were in town or who you were until you explained about your Aunt Marge.”
She glared at him. “You expect me to buy that story? You sent us certified letters.”
He shook his head. “We have a new office manager, Rayanne. She thought she had everything under control. She sent the letters, and then she put down that we had quote ‘new clients’ coming in today on our calendar.”
“And then last night you thought you’d just keep your identities a secret?”
He sighed. “We just left out that little detail. We were having a good time. Getting to know each other. I didn’t want to interrupt that by discussing your aunt’s will.”
“It was kind of important, don’t you think?” She was still a bit furious.
“Not really. I mean so what if Hunter and I are the attorneys for your aunt’s estate? It doesn’t change anything. It just makes it easier for you to get the answers you need over the next few days. And cheaper.”
She narrowed her gaze. “How do you figure?”
“Because if you forgive me and let me inside, I’ll help you figure out what needs to be done while doling out free legal advice.” He grinned, that damn panty-melting look that made her struggle to hold on to her perfectly good mad.
“You want to come inside and help?”
“Yes.” He stepped closer, removed one hand from his pocket, and stroked a finger down her biceps.
She shivered at the contact. His touch undid her every time. In fact, she jerked her arm back. “Stop touching me.”
He dropped his hand but took a deep breath. “I like touching you. I like the feel of your skin. The warmth. The softness.”
“Well, I don’t like it. You scramble my brain when you touch me. I’m convinced my grandmother was right. You do have some freakish powers that can control people into doing your bidding.” There. She’d said it. She didn’t even care if it sounded absurd.
He took a slow breath. “If I admit there is some merit to that fact, will you let me in?”
She jerked back, her voice rising. “If I’m right, and you’re brainwashing me, why the hell would I let you in?”
He shook his head. “I’m not brainwashing you. I promise. I have no control over your decisions. It doesn’t work that way.”
“You just said you have the power to control my mind.”
He sighed. “Not exactly. Please. Let me come inside. I’ll explain better.”
She stared at him for several moments, knowing instinctively letting him inside was the worst decision she could possibly make while at the same time knowing there was no other answer. She needed him to be inside. She needed to be close to him. As unwise as it was, she couldn’t stop herself from backing up and holding the door open. “Is this some kind of vampire thing where you have to be invited in before you can cross the threshold?”
He laughed as he stepped inside. “No. Wolves don’t have to be invited in. And before you ask, no, I don’t know any vampires. I’m pretty sure they’re mythical.”
“Really?” She shut the door and passed by him, returning to the kitchen where she’d been going through the cabinets. The red cabinets. The ones that perfectly matched the color scheme of Marge’s yellow and red kitchen. The walls were painted yellow. The floor was white tiles