saw her get into Greg’s car. Saw that jackass pull around to the back of the school instead of taking her to a legit date, and Caleb had known—he’d known—what that jerk was up to. It didn’t matter that Amy was an adult and she wasn’t his girlfriend. He stormed his way over to the parked car because he had to make sure that this was something she wanted. She hadn’t seemed excited about the date all night, the sparkle in her eyes gone. If anything, she looked as if she’d been dreading going out with Greg. That didn’t sound like a girl that wanted to park and presumably make out.
He’d been right, too. It had been dark, but not so dark that he couldn’t see Greg practically fucking pounce on Amy. She’d flailed, and so he’d started marching forward. When he got just outside the car, he saw her pushing against Greg’s chest to no avail, and something in him had snapped.
This asshole had the nerve to kiss Caleb’s woman.
He’d seen red. He’d flung the car open and pulled Amy out, and for a moment, he’d been torn between whuppin’ Greg’s ass and just hauling Amy away from him. His girl came first, though, so he’d focused on her. Then she’d hid in the closet with him and started talking, and . . . he’d just talked.
And talked.
For him, it was a revelation. He knew it was hard to talk to her when he was looking right at her face. Knew he needed to say more to her, and yet the words never seemed to come to mind. But in the darkness? He couldn’t seem to shut up. She’d sounded so soft and sweet and sexy that he’d been unable to resist approaching her.
Kissing her.
She’d been his first kiss. He was old for that sort of thing, but Caleb figured once you found the right person, that sort of thing would just kick in. It certainly had for him. He’d loved kissing her. He’d wanted to kiss her soft mouth for hours and hours on end. She’d been clueless that he liked her, which was startling to him. He’d thought he was pretty obvious about his crush, but she’d been genuinely surprised. Clearly, Caleb was going to have to constantly show Amy just how much he liked her. How much she meant to him.
Even if he had to turn the lights off just to have a conversation with her.
Because he’d known the very first time he saw Amy Mckinney that he was going to marry her. Now he just had to convince her . . . and he was one step closer to that.
His phone pinged with a text.
HANK: Howdgo
HANK: U
HANK: U nd th tcher
HANK: jst call me
Hank hated texting—said his fingers were too big for the tiny keyboard—and so the curiosity must have been eating him alive for him to text Caleb this time of night. He ignored his brother, though, turning off his phone’s screen as he put his hands behind his head and thought about Amy.
Amy and her mouth.
Amy and the little sounds she’d made as he kissed her.
The way Amy had felt when he’d carried her in his arms, and the soft expression in her eyes when she looked at him on the porch, as if she wanted him to kiss her all over again. He’d almost done it again, too, but he knew that if he kissed her again, he’d never want to leave.
And he had a Christmas romance plan to enact. By the end of it, he figured he’d propose. No sense in beating around the bush for months and months like his brother Hank had with Becca.
Caleb knew what he wanted: Amy. He just had to romance her good enough that she wanted him, too.
* * *
* * *
The next morning, Caleb took pains to avoid Jack. His younger brother would be waiting for Caleb to arrive so he could grill him on how the evening went, and Caleb wasn’t ready to share it just yet. So he woke up and showered early, jerking one out quickly so he’d stay in control—hopefully. He trimmed his beard and took care to splash a bit of cologne on as he did, just in case Amy liked a boyfriend that smelled like a piney forest or some shit. He didn’t have much experience in that sort of thing, so he was just winging it. But he thought about how red her face had been