Page 8 of Redemption

"My dad enjoys any time he can get with either of our kids. Just so happens he likes Molly best right now because she fed into his ego the other night." He leans against the cabinet, gripping the countertop in his big hands. "I'm sorry," he whispers.

My heart kicks in my chest. "I'm not telling you this so that you feel bad. It's the reality of what's been going on the past few months. You know that as well as I do, and I'd like to give her the proper gratitude for what she's done. She's stepped up in a big way, and she's helped me, personally." I'm not sure I want to tell him this part, but I know I've got to be honest. That's what got us into this situation in the first place. "There's been a couple of times when I broke down, and although she's the kid, she took care of me. Our girl is older than her years."

"And I've made her grow up quicker than she should have." His deep voice is lower than normal, and full of regret.

"We both have. I'm just telling you because it's our story." I shrug and open the fridge again. "Our story has been one of love, a tragedy, and everything in between. And like you said, this isn't the end of it, it's a speed bump in the road." I let the door close, and walk over to where he stands. "I love you, Caleb. I've never stopped, and it's not as if I can turn it off, I can't. But I do have a request."

"Oh, yeah." He gives me a smirk. "What's the request?"

I don't say anything, I just tuck into him, wrapping my arms around his waist and cuddling in. "That you let me give you a hug."

He wraps his arms around me, holding on tightly. "I love you too, and I'll always give you a hug when you request it. You don't even have to ask. Just always assume it's okay."

Laughing, I dip my face into his chest. "From now on, I will." We stand in each other's arms, enjoying the moment. Glancing up at him, I raise my eyebrows. "We have stuff to make grilled chicken and vegetables. Does that sound good to you?"

"Sounds perfect." He dips his mouth down to mine. "Just like you."

"It'll be donein about fifteen minutes," I tell Caleb as I shut the oven.

He rubs his stomach, pressing his shirt against what has become flat. "Those vegetables smell good."

They do. "I'm going to change into some more comfortable clothes, if you can watch it?"

"Sure, go ahead. Believe it or not, I've gotten pretty good at cooking." He gives me a wink. God, he's hot. Whatever he's been through has honed his body, and sharpened his good looks.

"Be right back."

Entering the bedroom for the first time, I walk over to the bed and grab my bag. There's no idea what Molly packed for me. She and I have different ideas of what would be appropriate to wear. We've been butting heads about it a lot lately. Unzipping it, I flip through the clothes, breathing a sigh of relief when I grasp my fingers around a pair of leggings. Right next to them is a sweatshirt.

Now that I have clothes to wear, I look around at the room. It's made for a couple to spend time in, with a big bed and TV at the end. There's a bathroom attached, so I head in there tochange. I haven't been this nervous in a while, and it's not like my husband hasn't seen me naked before.

The nerves are normal. At least that's what I tell myself.

And when I'm done putting on the leggings and Laurel Springs Police Department sweatshirt, which I now realize is Caleb's, I hurry out into the living room.

"You've always made my clothes look better than I do," his deep voice greets me.

"I've been wearing this one a lot, and I guess Molly took note of it," I say by way of explanation. Heat infuses my cheeks, and I do my best to not show just how much this piece of cotton has meant to me.

There's a string of tension between us as the timer buzzes. He hitches his head toward the oven. "i put some garlic bread in while you were changing. It should be done now, too." Running his hand along the counter, he grabs the oven mitt and puts it on his hand, before opening the door and grabbing the pan from the stove.

Working like a well-trained team, I head over to the fridge and grab out a couple bottles of beer while he finishes taking everything out, and puts it on the table. It's then that I notice he's put all of the food on the table, pulled out two chairs, and eyes are tracking me.

"What?" I give him a grin. It's self-conscious, but at the same time, I love that he's paying attention to me. It's not felt like I had a lot of that in the last few months. Instead of giving each other the attentiveness, we should've, we've been avoiding the situation. I realize right now I want his attention, and I'm going to do whatever it takes to keep it on me.

"Nothing." He shrugs. "I was just worried I'd never have this with you again." He pulls out the chair, and motions for me to take a seat.

Quickly I go over to sit next to him, putting his beer down, and taking a drink of mine. "We're gonna work this out, Caleb."

"Are you sure? There was a time that I thought we were ready to throw in the towel."

The question breaks my heart more than anything else he's said.

"I'm sure. We're not giving up on this. Not before we've given it everything we can."

There's tension between us, but now it isn't full of the type I'm worried will break us. Now it's of two people who are anxious to get to know one another after a long time apart.

CHAPTER EIGHT

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