Page 62 of Harvest Heat

“Come here.” Caleb lifted his arms.

“No, I… This was… I really should just go home.”

Caleb ran a hand through his hair and sat up. “Why don’t you shower here, and I’ll make us some coffee to help you stay awake to drive.”

“It’s only a few minutes down the road.”

“Still. You know you’ll feel better clean and caffeinated.”

“I don’t have any clean clothes.”

“You can borrow mine.”

“I…”

“Go, get a shower. I’ll put some clothes on the bed for you. There are clean towels under the sink.”

Rhys fought the urge to run. He was safe here. And it would be nice to have coffee before heading home to get ready for work. “You should get some more sleep.”

Caleb shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“Okay.”

When Rhys stepped out of the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, he hurried back into the bedroom. Caleb had put a blue sweater and a pair of joggers on the bed for him. He breathed deeply as he pulled the sweater over his head, taking in Caleb’s scent. The joggers were way too long, but he rolled the waist over and made them fit.

He could smell the delicious coffee Caleb was brewing, but he wasn’t sure even the strongest espresso would have the power to fully revive him after everything Caleb had done to him that night.

Caleb turned toward him when he entered the kitchen. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “I really do like you in my clothes.”

“They’re too big.”

“You still look good.”

Rhys couldn’t handle Caleb complimenting him right then. “Can I help you with anything?”

“No. Sit down.” He gestured toward the couch, the only place to sit in Caleb’s small space.

“Bossy,” he muttered as he did what Caleb said.

“I think you like it.”

Rhys did, when it came from Caleb, but only in bed or here in Caleb’s apartment when it was dark and only the under-cabinet lights were on. It felt good to know that Caleb would take charge and take care of him, that he wasn’t just putting up with him.

He could hear Tessa reminding him that she liked him. She didn’t just put up with him, but sometimes it was hard to remember. Rhys knew he wasn’t easy to deal with.

“Is that a vintage moka pot?” Rhys asked.

Caleb glanced over his shoulder. “It is. I got it at an antique store in Boston.”

“They’re the best. A lot better than the ones they make now.”

“I agree. See? We share some opinions about coffee.”

“I know your drinks are good. They’re just different than what I like.”

Caleb smiled, knowing how big a compliment that was coming from Rhys.

When the espresso finished, Caleb set the pot off the stove. He’d already put sugar and a curl of lemon rind into two espresso cups. He poured the espresso, then handed a cup to Rhys and sat beside him on the couch.