Making sure she’s nice and wet, I notch my cock and slowly push in. Fuck, she’s tight. Warm and tight. It takes everything in me to go slow when I want to thrust in hard, filling her, claiming her. She deserves more. More gentleness, more romance, a more deserving man.
My feelings grow stronger with every thrust. With every whispered moan she utters. Every time she calls out my name asking for more.
I realize this isn’t sex. This is claiming. My destiny. I’ll do everything in my power to keep her, protect her, please her. A sense of something outside if me washes over my senses. A joining. A melding.
Mine. She’s mine now. I’ll protect her with my life forever.
She explodes. I follow. Settling in behind her, I hold her as she drifts into sleep.
“Love you, Caleb,” she whispers.
I love you too,Grace, I silently vow.
CHAPTER 10
Grace
I’m not surprised he’s gone when I wake. He’s still hiding his scars. His pain is deep. Trust won’t be easy.
I’ve done hard things before. He’s worth the fight. After a quick shower and dressing, I meet him in the kitchen.
“I need to go to town today. I promised to volunteer at the veterans’ center,” I say. “But I-ah-I have to go into the studio to get a few supplies that I want to take with me. Is that okay?”
“Sure, I’ll come with and help.”
We cross to the studio, and he pulls the key set I gave him from his pocket and opens the door. Inside I grab one of my oversized canvas totes and a smaller one.
He helps me load blank canvases in varying sizes and a couple sketch pads into one bag, then follows me to the shelving unit with the paints and brushes. Guy could never pass up bargains on any paint supplies. He’d even stop at yard sales to look for more. While I select a variety of new and partially used paints and brushes, Caleb peruses the length of the shelving unit.
“What’s this for? It looks old and expensive.”
I glance up, brow furrowing. He’s holding a small, wooden box. “That’s Guy’s grandfather’s treasure box. Where did you find that?”
“It was behind this row of mason stains.”
“Those are my pottery stains. Why is it even out here? He always kept it in the bookcase in the house. That’s where he kept pictures of his mom and mementos from when he was young. It was always inside on the top shelf behind his favorite books. I—I haven’t touched that shelf other than to dust since.... I didn’t notice it was missing. Why did he bring it out here? It doesn’t make sense.”
“Do you have the key?”
“No. He kept it.” I frown as I try to recall the last time I saw the key. “I don’t remember seeing it in his drawer when I—when I cleared it out.”
“Grace, it’s okay. Don’t’ worry. We’ll find a way to open it. We can do it together or I can do it and let you know. We don’t have to do anything right now. Let’s take it with us so we know it’s safe.”
After locking the studio, he secures the box behind his seat and lifts me into his truck. We’re halfway to town when he breaks the silence.
“Grace, have you noticed anything out of place in the house? Anything missing or moved?”
“When?”
“Right after Guy died or just before? Even since then has anything felt out of place?”
“I—it’s been two years.”
“Just think about it. If something was off it will come to you.”
Leaning my elbow on the windowsill I rub my forehead. I don’t understand any of this.
“Guy and I had a peaceful, quiet life. No drama, no excitement. We watched the same shows on TV. I cooked. He kept the yard. We’d hike the mountain trails together or go for long bike rides. When he was off, we’d sometimes take in a movie or meet a few guys from the fire department and their families.
