“Want to have a seat?” he invited.
Her face brightening, she looked around. The choices were the bed or one of two club chairs next to the small table holding the laptop.
He really didn’t want her near, either.
“I would, thanks,” she said, taking a second to shrug off her thick white coat, laying it and her purse and scarf over one of the chairs. She hesitated, glancing at the bed, then back at his face. Then she squished into the chair alongside her coat.
Caleb walked over, picked up the laptop and moved it to the dresser, then sat across from her.
“So why’s it a big deal that you tossed a few truths at your mother?”
“Because she tossed a few right back at me,” she said with a wince.
He grinned for the first time in hours. “Don’t you hate it when that happens?”
“I do. I had no idea the truth could be so painful. I think it was easier when she blithely pretended to go along with my claims that I was happy with my life.”
“Pretending is never good.”
“Sure, that’s easy for you to say. You’re confident enough to say screw you to everyone who doesn’t accept you exactly as you are,” she said with a rueful sort of laugh.
Cringing, Caleb’s gaze shifted toward the door.
Was he? He didn’t even know who he was, so how could he expect anyone to accept him at face value? For his entire adult life, hell, most of his life as a whole, he’d played a part.
“I admire that,” she continued. She gave him a shy sort of smile and traced designs on her scarf with her finger. “I wish I were more like you. Only, not, you know. Because I really, really like being a girl with you.”
He wasn’t an expert on this talking thing, but he knew when someone was trying to sidestep to get out of delving into the deeper emotional stuff. And he shouldn’t let her get away with it. She was hurting, and she probably should get it all out, talk and vent and spew and whatever the hell else women did to heal.
Miserably uncomfortable now, Caleb wished he’d paid more attention to Maya when she’d done this kind of thing growing up. That girl had always been talking.
“I guess you have a pretty good handle on your life, hmm?” she said, still sidestepping, though now poking her toes into his business. “You and your dad made up, you’re free to come and go as you please. Or, you know, stay if you wanted.”
Hey, now. Sidestepping was one thing. Poking into his life? Totally not cool. This was about her problems. Not his.
He leaned forward to tell her just that.
“We didn’t make up,” he heard himself saying, instead.
“But you went to the party?”
“Yeah.”
“And didn’t you hang out at his shop earlier?”
Caleb’s eyes narrowed. Had she seen him while he was watching the drug deal go down? Was this a setup?
“He stopped by for lunch and mentioned what a great visit the two of you had,” she continued, now watching her fingers poke through the scarf’s fringe instead of meeting his eyes. “He was sweet. Teased me a little about the two of us, and said he liked me.”
A hint of color warming her cheeks, she finally glanced up and gave Caleb a tiny smile. The kind that made him think of shy little girls sitting on Santa’s lap, feeling like the most special princess in the world for those two minutes.
“He does like you,” Caleb said absently, trying to figure out what Tobias was doing. That the old man was up to something was a no-brainer. But why did it involve Pandora? An inkling, a tiny germ of a hint, started poking at the back of Caleb’s brain. He couldn’t see it clearly yet, but the same instincts that had saved him from multiple bullets told him it was there.
“He’s a good guy,” she said quietly. Then she wrinkled her nose and asked, “Am I not supposed to say that? I mean, if you guys didn’t make up, you probably don’t want to hear someone singing his praises, huh?”
“No,” Caleb realized. “I don’t mind. I mean, he’s easy to like.”
“He really is,” she agreed, reaching over to brush her hand over his. He turned his fingers to capture hers, making her smile. “So is my mother. If you can get past her larger-than-life perfection.”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, using a method straight out of Witness Grilling 101. Ask open-ended questions that kept the other person guessing as to what you wanted to hear. They were more likely to go with an unscripted gut response.
“Not totally bad. I mean, she’s fun and always makes people laugh. She’s got flare and talent and, well, she’s just so exuberant and alive. She walks in a room and everyone automatically gravitates to her.”
“So why are you so unhappy with her?”
She sighed, staring blankly across the room as she considered that question. He noticed that there was now an actual hole in the knitted scarf from her digging at the yarn.
“Because of all those same reasons.” Her smile was a little shaky. “I mean, that’s a lot to live up to, you know? She’s larger than life. People all around the world know who she is. Then they look at me with this puzzled stare, like they are trying to figure out where she went wrong.”
Caleb gave a shake of his head.
“What?” she asked.
“You just described me and my dad.”
Her laugh was more a puff of air than amusement. She shook her head. “What are we supposed to do about it?”
He threw his hands in the air. “I don’t know. I mean, they do a great job of being who they are.”
“I think you do a great job of being who you are, too. So why is not being like them a problem? I don’t know about you, but I’m tired of being measured by my mother.”
Thin ice. Caleb hesitated before going with his gut. “But I think the only one measuring you by that is, well, you.”
There went the sweet look off her face. She pulled back, her eyes narrowed and her lips tight. She looked as if she was seriously considering smacking him with that scarf.
“Me?” she asked in a tone so arch it was worthy of a queen.
“I guess I have an outsider’s perspective,” he mused. “I see a town that likes you, one that’s actually a little defensive of you, if all the warnings I got not to hurt you are anything to go by. I see an intriguing, attractive woman trying her hand at something new and succeeding. A woman who loves cats, cooks like a dream and always has a smile and a warm word for people. Maybe you’re not flamboyant and wild, like your mother. But you’re just as interesting, and even more beautiful.”
Her smile was bright enough to light the room. Caleb shifted uncomfortably in his chair, wanting to duck out until she stopped beaming at him. This gallant thing was more Gabriel’s style than his. But he hadn’t been able to stand seeing that dejected look on her face.
“So, I didn’t bring any treats,” Pandora said out of the blue, nibbling on her lip in a way that made him want to beg for a taste.
“Treats?”
“Yeah. Cookies or chocolate sauce or, well, you know. Aphrodisiacs.” She shrugged again, knotting together the frayed pieces of yarn to repair her scarf. “I really didn’t intend to come over. I was upset when I left the store and instead of walking home, my feet brought me here. To room seventeen.”
Her words ended in a wistful tone he didn’t understand. What he did understand was the look in her eyes. Sexy and appreciative. Warm and sweet. God, she was incredible.
Unable to resist, Caleb leaned forward and brushed his lips over hers. She tasted so freaking good. His tongue traced the full pillow of her lower lip, then he nipped lightly.
Her gasp was followed by a low moan of approval. She skimmed the tips of her fingers over his jaw, whisper- soft and so gentle. It was all he could do not to grab her by the waist and carry her over to the bed.
Caleb pulled away and jumped to his feet. Pacing, he shoved one hand through his hair.
What was he doing? She was the prime suspect in an FBI drug case. He should at least settle a few questions
