Page 62 of Second Chance Fate

“You thinkyoutrappedmeinto marryingyou?” She pointed at Caleb when she emphasized “you” and at her chest when she emphasized the word “me” and then back at Caleb when she emphasized “you” again.

“Not trapped, but yeah, maybe taken advantage of,” he stated earnestly.

She stared at him with a blank expression, then a smile spread on her face, and she started giggling. She took another drink of her wine, this time nearly finishing it off with a heavy sigh. “You’re funny.”

Am I?he thought to himself. He didn’t know what he’d done to be funny, but making her smile, and seeing her happy filled him with unearned joy and pride.

He knew with a clarity that nearly startled him—settling in his chest like the gentle click of a well-fitted puzzle piece—that if he was lucky enough to spend every day from this moment on making Taylor laugh, teasing out her little half-smiles and big belly laughs, then he’d already won at life. The sense of purpose was simple but profound: take this woman’s heaviness, earned over years of neglect and hardship, and replace it with lightness, one dorky joke or awkward moment at a time.

He watched her now, cradling her wine glass and grinning sideways at him as she fed Minnie and Casper her last two pieces of chicken. The open warmth in her face was a rare thing—delicate, but fierce in its suddenness—and he wanted to preserve it, collect every version of it like a kid stacking up limited-edition baseball cards.

That was his life’s work now, he decided. Not sermons, not counseling, not even the endless parade of charity events and church bake-offs. All of that mattered, sure, but none of it compared to this calling: make Rebecca Taylor happy for as long as humanly possible. He knew that this was what he was born to do; she was his destiny, and he couldn’t wait to face the future with her, with Owen.

For now, this was enough. Dinner, laughter, conversation, and the promise of a hundred tomorrows—all starting right here, right now, with empty plates on a kitchen table, two slobbering dogs, and a nearly empty bottle of wine.

19

“If you need anything,I’ll be downstairs in the basement.” Caleb placed two fresh towels on the end of the king-sized bed.

After dinner, they’d watched a couple of episodes of her favorite show,The Office,and thenParks & Recreationfor the sole purpose of witnessing Minnie’s love for Rob Lowe firsthand. Caleb had told Taylor about Minnie’s love of the ’80s heartthrob, and she was prepared to see Minnie watch the TV intently when he came on the screen. What she wasnotprepared for were the cartoon hearts floating above her head and the look of longing in her big, brown puppy dog eyes. She wasin lovewith Rob Lowe.

Taylor was so distracted by Minnie being twitterpated, she almost didn’t notice when Caleb yawned. She was far from tired, but she knew Caleb would feel responsible to stay awake as long as she did. She suggested they call it a night, and now they were standing in his room beside his large king-sized bed.

“I don’t feel right about this. I can sleep in the basement on the couch. I’m small.”

Owen had sent her a video of him and Jonah downstairs playing video games on the couch in the basement, which was what he’d referred to as Caleb’s ‘man cave.’ The couch lookedfine for sitting on, but even if it was a pullout, it would still be insufficient for him at well over six feet tall. She was petite and used to sleeping on couches.

“It’s not about size. You are going to take the bed.” His mouth curled in his half-grin of amusement. “It’s the least I can do.”

Taylor’s head tilted to the side. She was feeling a little fuzzy from the glasses of wine she’d had, a little looser, a little braver than she normally was.

“Why do you keep saying that?” she questioned.

“Saying what?”

“That it’s the least you can do? You keep saying that.”

If she was keeping count, which apparently she was, he’d said it eight times since he’d picked her up today. Pretty much every time she thanked him for something, that was his response. And that was just today; he’d said it countless times in the hospital.

“Because itisthe least I can do,”

“Why? Because you’re a pastor, and that’s what you’re supposed to do?”

“No.” The half grin was back, the corners of his mouth curled like ribbon pulled between the pad of a thumb and the blade of scissors. A funny feeling settled low in her belly as he looked down at her like she was the cutest thing in the world. No one had ever looked at her like that. She’d noticed that he did that a lot when she spoke. “I mean, sure, yes. As a pastor, I do feel it’s my responsibility to serve people, but that’s not what I was referring to with you.”

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. “What are you referring to?”

“I mean, you’ve been doing this alone for so long. Raising our son alone for over ten years. You shouldn’t have had to doanythingalone anymore.”

Even though Taylor had been the one to suggest they call it a night because Caleb yawned, she now found herself racking her brain to find excuses to prolong the conversation.

She wanted Caleb to stay. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was because part of her had been in love with him since she met him on the pier, and in the past few weeks of him stepping up and being everything she could ever hope for and more, she’d fallen even deeper in love with him. Maybe it was because he was, hands down, the sexiest man she’d ever seen, and they were alone in the house, and the air between them was alive and crackling with tension so thick she could cut it with a knife. Maybe it was just because she remembered how it felt when his lips pressed against hers, when his hands ran up and down her body, when he pushed inside of her. Maybe it was all of the above.

“If you don’t think I should doanythingalone, does that mean sleep, too?” she asked as she took a step toward him.

Caleb’s eyes closed in a heavy blink, and he put his hands in his pockets as he inhaled slowly through his nose and looked back down at her. “No. That’s not what I meant. Unless you don’t want to sleep alone.”

Their bodies were a mere inch apart. She stared up into his eyes and had the strongest urge to lift up on her toes and kiss him. She’d never been bold, and she wasn’t sure where this newfound confidence to speak her mind was coming from. Probably the alcohol. She hadn’t drunk a sip of alcohol in about five years, so it was safe to say her tolerance was at an all-time low.

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