Carry You Home (Carry Your Heart #2) (56 page)

We stayed like that, with our chests heaving, wrapped around each other's body, with me straddling his lap in this embrace, until he sighed into my neck and pressed a gentle kiss into my collarbone.

"I love you, Iz," Caleb murmured against my skin.

My eyes flitted shut at those words and now my heart thundered in my chest for a different reason.

"I know," I whispered back and buried my face into his neck. "I know."

Caleb

The sunlight peeked through the cracks in the blinds and I groaned into my pillow at the intrusion, pulling Isabelle closer to my chest. Just the feel of her bare skin resting so easily against mine, almost like she was melting into me, was enough to shake the sleep right out of me. Right about now, I could think of a lot things I'd rather be doing in bed with her instead of sleeping.

I brushed some soft wisps of blonde hair off her neck and pressed my lips there, lazily dragging them up and down her sweet, smooth skin until she stirred in my arms.

A slow, sleepy smile curved up the side of her lips and I shifted my lips there, tasting as much as I could as quickly as I could get it. Isabelle murmured something against my lips and one muffled laugh later, my lips were still glued to hers as I shifted myself until I was resting comfortably in between her thighs. Finally right back where I wanted to be, I didn't feel like wasting any time, even if we technically had all morning.

I just couldn't shake this feeling that if I made one wrong move or said one wrong word, Isabelle would disappear from my arms and from my life. Now that that I had her back exactly the way I wanted her, I suddenly felt like I was running on borrowed time.

All those thoughts about needing to keep my distance disappeared the moment she handed me those papers yesterday. So because she was here, in this bed, in my arms, I knew I needed to hang on to these moments for as long as they lasted. It was that thought that propelled me right where I needed to be and I buried myself inside her.
 

"Wow," Isabelle laughed in my ear as I found that easy rhythm again we'd had last night. "Good morning to you, too."

"Couldn't wait, babe," I murmured back.

My lips caught her muffled response, pressing myself even deeper into her. It was fucking amazing—all this time and our bodies still seemed to fit perfectly. The time I'd taken to memorize her body when we were first together had totally paid off; there were no awkward, clumsy encounters here. This just all instinct.

Everything last night had absolutely needed to be on her terms and her pace, but now, there was no reason to hesitate. The feeling of her smooth skin slipping and sliding along my body...there was nothing better than this. Absolutely nothing. If this was as far as I got today, if this was all I did, I could just roll over, call it a day, and be completely satisfied with my accomplishments.

How had I survived this long without her? How had I survived for eight fucking years without feeling this? The answer was simple: I hadn't survived. What I'd experienced hadn't been real living. It was just existing.

So I wasn't entirely willing to let her slide out of bed when it looked like she had that very idea. Winding an arm around her waist, I playfully yanked her back against my chest and held her there.

"Ah!" Isabelle laughed as she pretended to struggle against me. "Caleb, stop! I have to get up, you know."

"No," I told her, rolling us until I was on my back and held her firmly against my stomach. "You don't."

"Yes, I do," Isabelle laughed breathlessly, turning her face just enough so we were cheek to cheek. "I have to get back to my dad's. You know that."

I sighed, knowing I was fighting a losing battle anyway and begrudgingly loosened my grip around her waist. "Alright, alright."

"Besides," Isabelle shot me a smirk as she shimmied back into her jeans. "It's not like we can stay in bed all day."

"Oh really?" I cocked an eyebrow at her as my gaze hungrily trailed up and down her beautiful curves despite the fact that she was covering them up now. "I have a lot of ideas of what we could do in bed all day, Iz, and I think you'd love every one of them."

"I don't doubt that for a second," Isabelle laughed and tossed my long-forgotten T-shirt at me. "But I still have to get back to my dad's before the hospice nurse gets there."

It was kind of difficult to justify cracking jokes about keeping her in bed all day when she had real, serious reasons to get out of bed. At some point, I needed to head back into the shop, too. It wouldn't clean itself and I had an insurance appraiser coming later.

Besides, this way, we could let some anticipation build throughout the day until I could get her back in bed again. Yeah, that was the way I needed to look at this.

So when we sat in her dad's driveway with only the sound of my truck idling to cut through the silence, I didn't know where to go from here. And in the end, I let Isabelle call the shots.

"I, um," Isabelle whispered into the silence, rubbing her hands on her jeans as she spoke. "I should probably head inside."

"Okay," I shrugged, reaching out to slide a hand over her shoulder to tell her everything really was okay. "I can bring some lunch back to your dad's after I'm done with the insurance guy if you want."

"You don't have to do that," Isabelle paused for a moment to gauge my reaction. "It's more important for you to be at the shop now more than anything, right?"

No, it wasn't. Not if being at the shop meant being away from her, but I knew what she was doing right now. She needed some space; that much was clear, but she wasn't completely pulling away from me either. She wasn't running and she wasn't telling me to leave her alone. Well, she wasn't really telling me much of anything, but I had to choose my battles with her carefully.

"Okay," I shrugged again, willing to play this game if that was what she needed. "That's cool. I'll just swing by your dad's after I'm done at the shop for the day, alright?"

Her lips curved up into a beautiful, almost shy smile and that just reinforced how much I needed to give her the time and space she needed. We were on fragile ground, despite what had happened last night, and if she'd been cagey before, she had to feel even more so now.

And when I leaned over, pretty much invading her space, she met me halfway and let me kiss her goodbye. My mouth lingered over hers and she smiled into my lips, giving me one more kiss before sliding out of my truck.

The rest of the day seemed to go off without a hitch. The appraiser came and went and clean-up duties went on as planned. I walked around my dismantled shop, despite the fact that it wouldn't be up and running again anytime soon, almost feeling like things had finally fallen back into place.

Of course, that was right up until Saul called me.

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Isabelle

"Aw, shit," I murmured under my breath and threw all my cards down. Beat again. Go figure.

"It's alright," Saul called out from across the table. "Happens to the best of us."

"Well," my dad chimed in from his place at the table. "It's probably a good thing we're not playing with actual money, otherwise you'd be SOL, Isabelle."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head, glancing down exasperatedly at Cooper, who dutifully kept watch at my feet. "Wow. Thanks, Dad."

"Just you watch," Saul nodded to my dad like they were old pals. "When Caleb gets here, things'll take a turn. I've taught that kid everything I know, but no matter what I did or how hard I tried, he just never really got the hang of poker. He always had a good poker face. Still does, to be honest. He just never had any patience. Always wanted to go all in before all the cards were dealt."

"Sounds about right," I muttered under my breath.

Saul just shot me a wide, toothy grin as he shuffled the deck again and dealt out another hand.

"So," my dad started and the effort seemed to make him a little out of breath. "What are the sleeping arrangements going to be tonight?"

I sucked in a harsh breath and shifted uneasily in my chair. Up until now, I'd managed to curtail the fact that he saw me wearing Caleb's clothes yesterday.

"Honestly, Dad, I don't know. We haven't really talked about it yet."

We.

I didn't know how I felt about referring to us in those kind of absolute terms.

Oh my God. I just did it again.

My dad's eyes lingered on me for a little too long before nodding. "Alright. Just let me know if you'll be home tonight."

My breath hitched at the word
home.
I wasn't even sure how to define the idea anymore. Home used to be mean where I felt the safest, the most loved, the most accepted, the most at peace. This house had always felt like home and in a way, it still was. After leaving town for good, the idea of home became more tangible, more concrete. An actual place rather than an abstract ideal. After spending two nights in a row in Caleb's arms, I didn't know what to think anymore.

Luckily for me, the conversation shifted to the latest episode of
American Pickers
my dad and Saul had just watched before we sat down at the table and at this point, I would've been happy even if they wanted to talk about football or anything else I didn't care about.

Any more discussion of Caleb and I would've had to leave the table.

I'd made a split-second decision yesterday, two of them actually, and I still hadn't caught up. All I knew was that helping him, sleeping with him, wanting to be with him, feeling a little crazy because he wasn't here right now...it was as natural as breathing.

And just like that, the tiny wave of panic I'd been holding at bay since this morning finally burst right through the dam.

That was also the moment my dad stood up from the table on shaky legs, shuffled a few paces, and crumbled to the floor.

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The emergency room was exactly the way I remembered. Frenetic. Sterile. Terrifying. Sad. In my past experience, all places like emergency rooms could do was prep you for the inevitable, make you comfortable, and then send you on your way when there was nothing more they could do for you. This time, just like last time, really wasn't much different.

I sat almost catatonically in a chair next to my dad's hospital bed, listening to the monotone beeps from the machines attached to him, and stared at my feet. There wasn't much more I could do. There wasn't anything anyone could do and I'd always known that. Always known this day would come where he'd turn a corner and it'd be all downhill from there.

Some movement at the window caught my attention and Caleb was there, extending a hand to Saul with his chest heaving like he'd sprinted all the way here. They lowered their heads together for a moment, murmuring lowly to one another, and then the door opened so Saul could poke his head through.

"I'm gonna head out now," Saul told us and my dad lifted a hand to shoot him a weak goodbye as Caleb stepped through the door.

He shoved his hands deep into his front pockets and glanced at me out of the corner of his eye to make sure I was okay. I wasn't.

His hand ghosted over my shoulder and then he pressed a kiss into my forehead. I leaned into his chest, basking in this little reprieve from all the darkness swirling around me, and I felt like I could finally breathe again. Part of me could've stayed like this for hours, letting him hold me, letting him comfort me, letting him love me, but the other part, the shell-shocked part, pulled away.

Even as I leaned away from him to put some space between us, Caleb's hand stayed right where it was on my shoulder as if to remind me he wasn't going anywhere.

"How you feeling, Sam?" he called out softly to my dad.

My dad just lifted a shoulder from his hospital bed. "I'm dying, but I guess things could always be worse."

I huffed out a laugh and shook my head. Of course he'd joke now. Try to play it off like everything was fine. Like the doctors hadn't just given us the news I'd been dreading for months.

"Yeah, I guess," Caleb grinned at him, but the smile was wistful, like he already knew without either of us having to tell him.

Now, my dad leveled his gaze at me. "When are you busting me out of here?"

I sighed and rubbed my face with my hands. "Dad—"

"I meant what I said, Isabelle," he told me, his voice firm despite the fact that it barely carried over to my chair. "I'm not being admitted. I want to die in my own home and in my own bed."

A fresh set of tears stung my eyes and I had to squeeze them shut. Caleb's eyes had widened the size of baseballs and he shot me a worried glance, willing me to explain what was going on here. When I couldn't find the strength to say it out loud, my dad filled in the blanks.

"Apparently, a blood vessel burst in my stomach tonight," he told Caleb in such a calm, easy voice I almost got up and left right there. "I guess that's just one of the many complications from having liver cancer, but there you have it. My stomach filled up with fluid, or so the doctors said, and all signs point to my kidneys and just about every other organ in my body getting ready to give out on me. They said I've got a few weeks if I'm lucky and I've never really been all that lucky, at least not where it counts."