Page 17 of Wolf’s Providence (The Shadowridge Peak #3)

SIXTEEN

Willow

Our evening had been quiet. Not much was said, but it hadn’t been oppressively suffocating. Caleb had slipped out mid-evening to “let his wolf run” as he called it. If I was asked if I breathed easier when he was gone, I wouldn’t have been truthful. I also wouldn’t have been lying.

So yeah, there was that.

He also saved the awkwardness of the “where do I sleep?” because he was still gone when I went to bed. He’d told me not to wait up, and I hadn’t. My body was healed, but whether I was still suffering from mental unawareness of my healed body, or perhaps it was more basic and it was simple PTSD or my ME, but either way, my body ached.

I woke up alone, the other side of the bed as it was when I went to sleep, but I knew he was in the house because I could hear him moving around.

Unless it wasn’t him.

The fear that followed that thought almost made me throw up on my covers. The quick rap of knuckles against my bedroom door had me calming down.

“You awake?” His voice was deep and gruff. “Your scent changed.”

My scent changed. The fundamental differences between us were once more highlighted by his use of his natural shifter abilities.

“Yeah, fine. Sorry, I’ll be out soon.”

Why had I apologized? Shaking my head at myself for being an awkward ninny, I got out of bed and trotted to the bathroom. After a quick shower, I pulled on a pair of soft lounge pants and an oversized baseball T-shirt. Extra thick fluffy socks completed my cozy outfit, and with a quick brush of my hair, I went in search of coffee. And Caleb.

Walking into the living room, I found myself watching him from across the room. He moved through the kitchen space with a predatory grace that felt so at odds with the easy familiarity of my own home. His movements were sure, perhaps a little too quiet, and at times cautious—as though he didn’t belong.

I couldn’t deny it was strange to see him here, in my kitchen, looking out of place against the backdrop of my pale beige and white kitchen. I knew better than to think he wasn’t aware of me in the room, but his gaze kept flicking to the windows as if he were wishing he was outside instead of in. Or maybe I was doing him a disservice? Maybe he was on guard, waiting for whoever had been after me to leap out of the woods behind my house and attack me.

“Coffee?” he offered, pointing to a cup on the counter, and I was grateful for the break in the silence.

Was that my mug? How had he known that? “Yeah.” I blinked slowly, wondering why I was being weird. “Thanks.”

Padding over to him in my fluffy socks, I saw him look down and thought I saw a ghost of a smile as he regarded them. As I took the cup from him, our fingers brushed, causing a jolt to run up my arm at the contact.

The effect he had on me was something I couldn’t explain. I had tried—and failed—to reason it out. I’d also tried to ignore it, but that hadn’t worked, as both times I’d slept with him happened when I’d been trying to deny the connection that existed between us.

I also realized that seeing him in my kitchen, in familiar surroundings, wasn’t dulling the connection. If anything, it was making it sharper, more undeniable. There was no escaping the pull that I had to him.

“Are you planning on going to your studio today?” he asked, leaning against the counter with a casualness that looked alien on him.

I wasn’t being harsh, the guy was intense. Casual and Caleb in the same sentence was unnatural.

Nodding, I took a sip of coffee. “I am, it’s been too long. I know Lorna will have done an amazing job, but I need to get back into a routine.”

I noticed that something I said didn’t seem to sit right with him. His gaze dropped to the floor as if something I said dissatisfied him. Setting his coffee cup down, he turned and began opening cabinets, scanning the lack of contents with a bit too much intensity.

“Yes, I know, I need to go to the store.” I sounded too defensive.

“You’ve not been here,” he said reasonably. “But even when you are here, your food stock is sadly lacking,” he mused, and I tried not to bristle at the insult. Intentional or not, it still stung. “I’ll make a list, in case you’re not able to get out or something.”

Or something?

“Caleb, it’s a grocery store run. Not much call for a survival mission in Whispering Pines,” I said with a forced laugh, but I stopped when I saw his expression.

There was no humor in his eyes, just that raw intensity, that ever-present wariness. Did he know he was scanning the perimeter of my kitchen like it was hostile territory?

“Of course,” he murmured. “I was thinking of your ME.”

Oh, well, now I felt like a dick.

“I’ll finish my coffee, change my feet, and then we can go together. If you want? Or I can go myself?” Did shifters shop? Or did they just eat the neighboring wildlife? Cheeks burning at my ignorance, I gulped my coffee.

“I’ll go with you,” he told me, making no mention of my sudden behavior change, but I knew he saw it.

He noticed everything.

“I’ll be two minutes.” Putting my coffee cup down, I hurried to my bedroom door, closing it firmly behind me as I leaned against it for a moment to catch my breath.

What the hell was wrong with us? This was Caleb . I knew this man. I’d had sex with this man. Twice . I’d slept beside him more times than I could count. As man and wolf. Why were we acting like strangers?

After pulling off my socks and lounge pants, and dressing in jeans and boots, I left my room, determined to make the weirdness between us disappear.

Grabbing my phone and keys, I gestured for Caleb to follow me. “Come on, you, let’s go get some fresh air and food. Maybe if I feed you properly, you won’t keep pacing in my kitchen.”

Caleb opened the Jeep as I locked up, and following my directions, he drove us to the grocery store. I watched him as he scanned our surroundings the whole way. He took note of everything—cars, houses, pedestrians. I wasn’t sure if he was looking at them out of curiosity or if he was analyzing them all as potential threats. Whispering Pines was a quiet town with a good tourist population, but trying to see it through Caleb’s eyes, it felt foreign.

“Do you like it here?” he asked suddenly, nodding towards the tree-lined street that led to the grocery store.

“I do,” I answered easily. “There’s enough trade to keep an artist in business,” I jested slightly. “A good tourist trade to matter and make a difference, but not too much to take away the sense of the familiar, if you know what I mean?”

“I don’t,” he admitted, glancing at me curiously.

I thought about how to explain it. “Mostly everyone knows everyone, local, I mean. But we have enough passing trade from the hikers and such that it keeps the day-to-day fresh. Sure, I may see the owner, Phil, from the bakery everywhere I go,” I teased, referencing my first conversation with Caleb, “but I also see new people all the time.” Seeing he didn’t like that idea, I hurried on. “Whispering Pines is a tight community, but in a good way. We’re not living in each other’s pocket, but we’re aware of where the pockets are if we need them.”

I thought about the meeting in the town hall over the break-ins and my own break-ins added into that.

“When they broke into my store and my house, the community pulled together to help me. I got packed off to Lorna’s, and the community banded together to fix the mess.” Looking at the shoppers as they came and went into the grocery store as Caleb parked the Jeep, I sighed. “I don’t think you would get that elsewhere.” I thought about it. “Or bigger towns.”

I saw him give a slight nod, his eyes lingering on the unfamiliar faces for a different reason.

“Whispering Pines is small enough for that sense of community but big enough not to have everyon e know your business,” I clarified. “And not too big that no one knows who you are.”

He sniffed dismissively. “Sounds like a pack.”

The idea surprised me. Did it? Was that what community was? Pack-like?

“You ready to do this?” he asked, eyeing the grocery store.

“It’s just grocery shopping,” I chided him with a roll of my eyes, “not a military operation.”

He closed his eyes briefly at the slight reprimand. “This is just…different.”

“Different how?” I asked, genuinely curious.

Caleb’s steady gaze met mine. “From what I’m used to.”

His reply left me with a faint sense of unease. A harsh reminder—as if I needed one—that this wasn’t his world any more than his was mine. Had I given any thought before this about how the divide between us was so…wide?

“Come on,” I said with forced cheerfulness. “Let’s go food shopping.”

The groan he made was pretty much the same groan any man made when told they were going grocery shopping.

Maybe the divide wasn’t as wide as I thought. Grinning, I collected a cart while Caleb surveyed the store with a look of distrust and trepidation.

Grocery shopping with Caleb was strangely fascinating. He put more fruit and veg in the cart than I would. He added way more meat than I would, and when I added the snacks I usually bought for Alistair, he picked them back out of the cart.

“Still don’t know if he’s the reason your house was broken into by not being broken into,” he grumbled. “It’s how I found your key, remember?”

I’d told him about the other break-ins in town during our recent time together, and he’d said nothing, but I knew he had taken the story of my awkwardness when confronted with the townspeople and stored it away to analyze later.

“He’s just a boy,” I reminded him softly. Putting one bag of chips back in the cart.

“Who’s vandalizing other people’s property,” he reminded me, but he let the bag of chips stay in the cart.

By the time we got back to my house, I could tell he was still as tense but seemed tired.

“You didn’t sleep, did you?” I accused him as he started unpacking the groceries. His quick glance up at me confirmed my suspicions. “Caleb! You don’t need to stay up all night and guard me. Hon e stly, you’re just as scary being woken in the middle of the night as you would be patrolling outside.”

I saw his lips twitch, but he turned away to open the fridge, hiding from me if he smiled at my words.

Clearing my throat, I tried to think of ways to put what I was going to say next. “You don’t need to sleep on the couch if that’s what you’re worried about?”

He half turned to look at me as he placed two thick steaks in the fridge. “Why would I be worried?”

Right? Why would he be worried? “You know, because of…um…stuff.”

Closing the fridge door, he turned to look at me, his arms resting loosely beside him. “Define stuff .”

Define stuff, sure. Easy. Excuse me while I can’t think of anything to say.

“You know, us.”

One perfectly sculpted eyebrow rose. “I know us very well.” His gaze raked over me, hot, filthy, and full of promise.

My cheeks were burning, but also, I felt slightly indignant. “Then why did you spend all of last night outside?”

A slow smile crept across his face, and his eyes were hooded with victory. “You want me in your bed at night, Willow?”

Did I? Yes.

“Yes.”

He crossed the room so quickly that I gasped at his speed, and he used the opportunity to claim my mouth with his. The kiss was gentle at first, warm and familiar, but I sensed the hesitancy as Caleb tested the waters. It lasted a moment because any uncertainty dissolved, and the kiss deepened, filled with the unspoken passion that existed between us. All that mattered was our connection, the bond between us, and the undeniable pull we had towards each other.

The kiss gained urgency. Caleb’s hands slipped into my hair, fingers twisting gently as he pulled me closer, tilting my head so he could deepen the kiss even further. I was no better, my hands curling into his shoulders, gripping him tight.

We were hungry for each other, mouths opening, tongues dueling as if we’d been starved, and the tension that had lingered between us melted away as we lost ourselves in the kiss. Every touch felt amplified, every sensation more vivid, and it wasn’t long before my clothes were removed as quickly as his.

Picking me up, he placed me on the counter, my legs parting naturally for him to fit between. Caleb’s lips nipped and sucked at my neck, his fingers dipping between my legs, testing my readiness. Gripping his cock, I guided him to my entrance, not caring about foreplay, I needed him inside.

Caleb inside me made sense. Caleb fucking me was one of the only things that made sense.

He pushed forward, and my head dropped back as I felt the deliciousness of the slight burn of his thick cock stretching me.

“Caleb.” My voice was husky and filled with need. A need he recognized as he started to move inside me, claiming my mouth again, smothering my moans of appreciation.

He wasn’t gentle, but then, neither was I. My fingers dug into his shoulders, nails dragging over his smooth skin as he picked up the pace between my thighs. He pushed me backward until I was almost lying on the kitchen counter, his body following me down as he drove into me.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against my breast, his mouth capturing the stiff peak, his tongue flicking over it lazily. Caleb moved his hand down to rub my clit in smooth circles, applying the perfect amount of pressure to make me squirm greedily beneath him. Wrapping my legs around his hips, I pulled him in tighter. “You were made for me, Willow.” He groaned as my inner muscles pulsed around him, gripping him tighter. “Fuck, do it again,” he ordered. I looked up at him and saw his head tilted back, his eyes closed, and his expression twisted into one of lust and desire.

Knowing I did this to him filled me with intense satisfaction. The idea of us both letting go like this filled me with a wild, insatiable need . He made me crave him. All I wanted was his cum spilling inside me, filling me.

Caleb gripped my hips suddenly, pulling me closer to the edge of the kitchen counter. Pushing my legs wider, he looked down at me with a wildness that made me shiver with anticipation. His pace was relentless, and all I could do was lie there and take it.

Relish it.

“Caleb…” The needy whine in my voice made me sound unrecognizable, but he knew what I wanted.

Bending swiftly, he nipped at the underside of my breast. “I know,” he growled. “I know what you want.” His look was fierce but stunning.

I never wanted this to end, but my body was ready to let go. My climax was building fast, and I wasn’t sure I was ready for it, because I knew my orgasm was going to be a big one.

“Come for me,” he demanded as he pushed into me over and over. “Come for me. Show me who you belong to.”

Jesus Lord, I was going to combust.

My cry of disappointment when he withdrew, leaving me empty, turned to a cry of pleasure as his mouth and fingers replaced his cock. His tongue moved over my clit, his mouth sucking on the tight bundle of flesh, and his fingers sawing into me made me lose control. It was all I needed.

My scream echoed around us, my hands fisting his hair, pulling him into my pussy as he feasted on my orgasm, his mouth and tongue delivering a climax that shook me to my core. The intensity of it never lessened, not when he replaced his fingers with his cock once more. Not when he fucked me with a force that was almost brutal but was still not enough .

He lifted me effortlessly, and my back was slammed against the wall as he fucked into me. My orgasm was never-ending, or maybe I was on the next one, or the next, I didn’t know. I was losing count. My body was limp, and I was barely holding on as pleasure crashed over me in continuous waves.

Caleb’s sharp bite at my shoulder brought a moment of pain, and then I was lost in another orgasm, dimly aware that he was roaring out his release. His head dropped to burrow in the crook of my neck as he shuddered and spilled inside me.

Later—minutes, hours, who knew—I opened my eyes and realized we were in a tangle of limbs on the couch. When did we move?

Tilting my head back, I looked up at him, realizing he was asleep. His face was the picture of contentment. The small smile on his face was gentle and peaceful.

He looked so striking when he was relaxed. Don’t get me wrong, he was gorgeous—grumpy or furious—but like this, unguarded, he was breathtaking.

My body was tender, and my core felt slightly bruised, but something deep inside me was immensely satisfied. I vaguely recalled Caleb using a warm wet cloth on my lower body, so there was no awkward stickiness between my thighs serving as a reminder of what we’d done, not that I needed it. My lower body still pulsed with the aftereffects of having great sex… really great sex.

But I didn’t want to leave the comfort of his embrace. Here, like this, my head didn’t have a thousand questions lined up waiting to be answered.

Wrapped in his arms, I didn’t feel like I needed to hide our relationship. I didn’t need to question it. I didn’t need to question him . I was still relishing the touch of a man who had laid claim to my body as he was claiming my heart.

Here, on my couch, nothing mattered except us.

Call me stupid or a coward, call me whatever you wanted, but right now, right here, I was happy to ignore everything else that posed a threat to us and simply bask in the aftermath of our lovemaking and savor the feeling of being safe in Caleb’s arms.

He said I was made for him? I was beginning to think he was right.