Page 34 of The Agent
“You could always cut the next piece while you chew,” he pointed out.
“Don’t be a smart ass. Eat your breakfast.”
She was pleased to see him devour the pancakes. For some reason, she liked making him happy. She got the feeling Caleb wasn’t the kind of man who’d been served fluffy pancakes very often. There was an edge to him, something raw and vulnerable at times.
This morning, that edge seemed sharper than ever. He didn’t say much as he drank his coffee. His dark eyebrows were furrowed, and he looked as if some inner dilemma was tearing him up.
“You okay?” Marley asked again, as she poured a hefty amount of syrup on her second pancake.
“Yeah. I’m fine.” Setting down his cup, Caleb stood. He grabbed his dish and headed for the sink, keeping his back to her as he rinsed his plate under the faucet.
“You don’t have to do that,” Marley called. “I’ll just shove everything into the dishwasher later.”
“I can’t not do the dishes after I eat,” he replied without turning around. “It’s a habit I picked up when I lived in one of my foster homes. My foster mom used to give me a quarter every time I cleaned up after myself.”
“That was sweet of her,” Marley remarked.
“Yeah, I guess it was. She was one of the nicer ones.” She heard the smile in his voice. “She gave me this cracked yellow piggy bank to put the quarters into. I kept every quarter. I thought if I saved them all, I would have enough money to run away and be on my own.” His shoulders tensed. “Not that it mattered. One of my foster brothers stole every last penny the night before he was transferred to another home.”
Her heart melted in her chest, sympathy for that lost little boy tightening her stomach. “Caleb…I’m sorry.”
She pushed away her plate and got up, walking over to him with purposeful strides. His back stiffened at her approach. She knew he probably felt uncomfortable for revealing what was obviously a painful memory. He’d looked and sounded the same way last night, when he’d told her about his mother’s death.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to depress you,” he remarked.
She rested her hand on his arm and stroked the curve of his bicep. “It’s okay to talk about things that hurt you,” she said. “I do it all the time.”
“I’m not great with talking about my feelings, or my past.” His voice sounded thick as he admitted what she already knew.
Still, it might have been one of the most honest sentences he’d ever spoken to her, and she rose up on her tiptoes and kissed him, a slow, deep kiss filled with gratitude and warmth. He responded instantly, slipping his tongue between her parted lips and exploring her mouth with what felt almost like desperation.
Her heartbeat quickened. She wondered if every kiss she shared with Caleb would be like this. The racing pulse, the damp palms, the melting of her body into his. He placed his hand on the back of her head and drew her closer, teasing her with his mouth, his lips, his tongue. The air in the kitchen felt charged, like the streak of arousal crackling through her blood.
“Marley?”
She and Caleb broke apart like a pair of teenagers caught necking in a parked car. She swiveled her head and saw her brother in the doorway.
“What the hell is going on here?” Sam asked, his gaze shifting from her to Caleb. “Who ishe?”
Marley found her voice. “Heis Caleb. My, um, neigh bor.”
Her brother strode to the middle of the room and eyed Caleb like a guard dog that had just discovered a burglar in the house. Too bad Sam was more like a cocker spaniel than a rottweiler. In his sky-blue surf shorts and white T-shirt, with his blond hair windswept as usual, her brother posed the least menacing picture Marley could conjure up.
“Do you always make out with your neighbors?” Sam demanded.
“Just the cute ones,” she replied.
Caleb snorted, then stuck out his hand. “I take it you’re Marley’s brother. It’s nice to meet you.”
Sam looked at Caleb’s outstretched hand warily, but the good manners their parents had instilled in them beat out his obvious desire to play the role of Angry Brother. He shook Caleb’s handand said, “I’m Sam.” His eyes narrowed. “Why are you kissing my sister?”
Caleb looked so uncomfortable she took pity on him and said, “Because we’re seeing each other.”
Sam’s dark-blond eyebrows shot to his forehead. He glanced over at Marley. “Since when?”
“This week,” she admitted.
“And you didn’t tell me?”
