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“Did I say that out loud?” She clamped a hand over her mouth as heat bloomed in her cheeks, embarrassment washing over her like a tidal wave.
He slid a steaming bowl toward her, and a smile ticked at the corner of his mouth. “I guess you did.” His face was less imposing in the soft light of the room, the harsh shadows of the forest replaced by the warm glow of the fire. There were lines etched at the corners of his eyes, evidence of a life lived with purpose. So different to Richard, with his soft skin and perfect grooming.
She wrapped her hands around the bowl, brimming with a thick vegetable soup.
“Eat.” He handed her a spoon.
Her stomach cramped with exhaustion. “I’m not hungry.”
“Don’t think I asked that. Eat.”
Jeez. She glared at him as he leaned back against the counter on the other side and sipped from an earthenware mug.
She glanced down at the soup, still sure she wasn’t hungry and ready to protest, but the aroma of thyme and rosemary filled her senses. There were hearty chunks of potato, slivers of translucent onion. Her mouth watered. Homemade. Not like the sterile, chef-catered meals she had grown accustomed to over the years. Richard hadn’t wanted her to cook, preferring instead to hire a professional chef to cater for his every whim. Richard had closely controlled her calorie intake. He hated women who, in his opinion, ‘let themselves slide.’ Their meals had been artistic arrangements, not sustenance.
She took a tentative mouthful, the warmth spreading through her body as she savored the flavors. God, she was starving and the soup, whatever it was, tasted like the most delicious thing she had eaten in years.
In less than five minutes, she had devoured the entire bowl, along with the thick slice of bread Caleb provided, slathered in golden butter so thick her teeth had left tiny dents. A small, satisfied sigh escaped her, a warm glow spreading from her stomach to the rest of her body.
She stuffed the last delicious piece of bread crust in her mouth and then wiped crumbs from the plate with her fingers. When had she last eaten a proper meal? Her life recently was a blur of takeaway burgers and packaged microwave dinners.
“Better?” Caleb’s tone was gruff, but his eyes were kind. Concerned.
“God. Yes, that was amazing.”
He studied her as he placed his coffee mug on the counter. “Why has your ex sent men after you?”
Grace shook her head, her thoughts racing. If this man, who had shown her nothing but kindness, got involved in her messy life, it could only lead to trouble. “It’s better that we don’t go there.”
“Is that in case I get hurt?” Caleb’s question pulled her attention back to him.
He crossed his legs, accentuating the trimness of his hips. Without his jacket, she could appreciate the curve of impressive biceps, evidence of a man who knew how to take care of himself.
She sighed, weariness weighing on her. “Trust me. It’s complicated.”
“Try me.” His voice was soft, but determined.
Grace shook her head, her resolve faltering. Fatigue threatened to overwhelm her, pulling her into the depths of sleep right there and then. She couldn’t do it. Caleb had already taken care of her, and she couldn’t bear to drag him into the chaos that surrounded her. She couldn’t risk endangering anyone else. It wouldn’t be fair.
He must have seen the conflict in her eyes, for his stern expression softened. Without waiting for an answer, he gathered up her dishes and deposited them in the sink filled with soapy water. “You need to rest.”
She slipped off the stool onto leaden legs. “I’ll be fine on the couch.”
“No, you won’t. You know where the bedroom is.” He moved to the couch where he shook out the blanket laid over the couch back.
Grace crossed her arms, a stubbornness creeping into her stance. “Please, take the bed?—”
Before she could finish her protest, Caleb reached for his waist and peeled off his shirt. Grace’s breath caught in her throat, her heart racing at the sudden intimacy of the moment.
Holy crap, he’s undressing right in front of me.
He tossed the shirt onto the well-worn arm of the couch, his eyes snapping in her direction. “Are you still here?”
His question hung in the air as Grace bolted for the ladder, scaling it faster than she thought possible. Her cheeks blazed hot. The image of his ripped abdomen and the way the firelight had licked at his stacked musculature seared her mind.
Upstairs, she pulled off her boots and climbed into bed fully dressed. The fabric, soft and imbued with Caleb’s scent, cocooned her in a comforting embrace, wrapping her in the protection of the man who’d provided an unexpected refuge.
Sleep called to her like a drug. The last thing she remembered was the snuffle of a dog and the weight of a body settling next to hers.
