it was still pretty good.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Amy was humming the next morning and awake before dawn. She knew Caleb was an early-riser type, so this time she wanted to put on her makeup and fix her hair before he showed up. The playful side of her was tempted to stay in her robe, though, just to watch his face get red and his body react to that. She loved the way he stiffened and watched her like a hawk. For all that he was a gruff, silent sort, he absolutely could not hide his emotions lately when it came to her.
It was refreshing, after years of being married to a man who liked nothing more than to manipulate her. She knew where she stood with Caleb.
The day was a good day. He’d taken her to work that morning, utterly silent, but she hadn’t minded his quiet. She had her students make holiday cards for family members, and when class was over, she didn’t linger to decorate her classroom or work on lesson plans. School was out on Friday for the Christmas holidays, so she just needed to get through the week. Easy peasy.
Caleb was there waiting for her when she got out of school, and to her delight, he was in her car. It was freshly cleaned and vacuumed, and the engine purred like a kitten. For Day 2 of their dates, they grabbed a couple of fancy coffees from the bakery in town and a dog biscuit for Donner, and then spent the next few hours driving and looking for Christmas lights. It was a magical evening, really. They listened to Christmas music and laughed, and Caleb seemed to be more talkative, though she suspected the darkness probably helped. They didn’t make out—it was hard to make out with a collie sitting between you on the front seat—but it was a nice date anyhow and she was sad when they turned into Painted Barrel and began to head to her house.
Her happy bubble disappeared the moment they pulled up to her place. A sports car was parked in her driveway. A familiar sports car, one that she’d been hauled out of just a few days ago when her “date” was mauling her.
Greg.
Caleb made a disgruntled sound in his throat. “What the hell’s he doing here?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered. Her gut was knotting in that uncomfortable way. She hated confrontation. Hated it. This was churning up all kinds of bad memories, and she wanted to cry. How was it that she attracted the ones that never seemed to go away? First Blake and now Greg. She just wanted to be left alone by everyone.
Everyone except Caleb.
Worst of all, she couldn’t get away from Greg because she was his renter. Even now, she could see the light on in her house, the lights on her Christmas tree twinkling. “He’s sitting in my living room,” she whispered, and it felt like a violation. He had a key. She knew he did; he was her landlord. Didn’t matter. It felt . . . uncomfortable. He might as well have been going through her damned panty drawer.
Caleb let out a hard breath. “I’m going to take care of this for you. Stay here.”
For some reason, those words reminded her of past arguments. Of Blake “handling” everything so she wouldn’t have to do a thing. So she could be the little housewife and not look at a bill or have a thought in her head except how to please her husband.
“It’s my house,” Amy blurted. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Not alone, you won’t,” Caleb growled.
Well, that was okay. If he wanted to come in with her, she wouldn’t stop him. She took Donner’s leash and petted his head so he wouldn’t panic, then led him out of the car. Caleb moved to her side, staying right next to her as she marched to her front door. As she got to the doorway, she felt the absurd urge to knock . . . except it was her own damn house. She opened the door with a frown.
Greg sat there in her living room. He’d made himself comfortable on her love seat and was drinking one of her knock-off clearance-aisle sodas from her fridge and flipping through an old, battered magazine that Becca had given her. He looked up in surprise when he saw Amy and Caleb . . . and his gaze swung to the dog.
“There’s no pets on the lease,” Greg said by way of greeting.
She