When they left for the night, Caleb walked with Sadie out to his car, holding his tongue. It wasn’t easy. He was good and pissed off. Sadie had brought him here, not to introduce her family to her boyfriend, but to parade him around as another bad choice.

Which reminded him, he was a complete idiot for giving her that power in the first place. He’d actually believed that she’d wanted to show off the man in her life.

Joke was on him.

Worse, what she’d done tonight spoke volumes about her level of investment in him.

He held her passenger door open while she clicked her seatbelt into place. She tilted her face up, her eyes revealing her guilt. She opened her mouth to say something, but he shut the door on her cute nose.

Drawing a deep breath, he walked around the back of the car instead of the front, using the ten seconds to school his features into a blank expression, the one he often took with him into the boardroom when he didn’t want to show his hand.

He also used it on poker nights with Kel, and he only lost when Kel was counting cards, which he did just to piss Caleb off. Hard to beat a cheater, but Sadie had done it effortlessly tonight. And yeah, she’d cheated. She’d cheated by not warning him ahead of time what tonight had been about. If she’d done that, they might have actually walked into her family home as partners.

But she hadn’t wanted that. She’d wanted to throw him in her mom’s face, and the minute he’d realized it, he’d also realized something else—this thing between them wasn’t going work, not like this anyway.

“Caleb,” she said quietly. “I’m—”

“Don’t.” He didn’t want to hear an apology for something she’d done so purposefully.

She gave him a long unreadable look. “I get that when you say ‘don’t’ like that, in your very serious, very authoritative voice at work, people probably shut up. But in case you haven’t noticed, I’ve got a bit of an authority problem.”

He snorted at the truth of that statement and she turned in her seat to face him, putting her hand over his before he could start the car. “And second,” she said. “I really am sorry.”

“For?” he asked politely.

“For using you tonight. I don’t know why I did it.”

He gave her a get real look and she sighed.

“Okay, fine. I do know,” she said. “I wanted my mom and dad to fall in love with you and think you were their dream come true, and then when they saw your tats, they’d assume I was on the same old track to Loser Town.”

“Why would you want them to think that?”

“Because they’re going to think it no matter what.” She shook her head. “But I realized that I made a tactical error. I should have done it the other way around. If they’d seen you in just those board shorts first, and if I hadn’t told them your name, they’d have instantly judged you. And not in a good way. Then when they’d gotten to know you, they’d realize how judgmental they are.”

He just stared at her. “Wow.”

She leaned back and closed her eyes. “I know. I heard it when I listened to myself. And now you know just how crazy I really am.”

“Actually, I already knew that part.”

She opened her eyes and met his and found a very small amount of amusement in them that gave her some hope. “Well you are smarter than the average bear,” she murmured.

“Tell me why I watched you take the crazy to a whole new level tonight. Why do you care so much what they think?”

“Because they’re my family.”

He stared at her and realized something new—tonight hadn’t been about her trying to stick it to her parents at all. Instead, it’d been her way of saying, see, I’m okay, even someone like Caleb Parker thinks so , and when he looked at it like that, she broke his heart. Letting out a breath, he took her hand in his and brought it up to his mouth, nipping the meaty part of her palm until she looked at him again.

“For future reference,” he said, “when you’re in a relationship, you have each other’s back. Meaning if we go into a situation where one of us is being driven mad by our admittedly equally mad families, the other can be used as armor. It’s a freebie. A perk.”

She seemed boggled at this. “So you’re saying if we were in a relationship, tonight would’ve been a freebie and you wouldn’t be mad at me?”

“Correct. And Sadie?”

“Yeah?” she asked warily.

“We are in a relationship, at least by my definition.”

“And what’s your definition?”

“Several mornings this week alone, I’ve woken up to a pair of your panties on my floor.”

“Panties on your floor constitutes a relationship?”

“If it happens more than once, yeah.”

“But you’re still mad. Doesn’t that make the relationship null and void?”

“I imagine we’re going to make each other good and mad often,” he said. “But no, that doesn’t null and void the relationship. It’s called Real Life, Sadie. Shit happens. I’ll piss you off. You’ll piss me off. We’ll talk. We’ll work through it.”

“How do you know?”

“Because that’s what people who are into each other do.”

She appeared to chew on that for a moment. “So what are the rules of this so-called relationship?”

She’d asked the question lightly, but her expression spelled worried . “Simple,” he said. “We stay in it for as long as it feels good.”

She stared at him for a long beat. “I really am sorry for tonight.”

“I know.”

“I should never have”—she closed her eyes—“I’m just really sorry. I—”

He leaned in and kissed her. “I know,” he repeated softly. “And thank you. But I’m not like your mom. You don’t have to say it again.” He started the car and got them on the road, feeling grateful and humbled to have the family he had and just a little heartbroken for Sadie that she didn’t feel the same level of support and unconditional love. “Where do you want to go?” he asked. “Your place?” He knew she liked to retreat and be alone when she needed to lick her wounds.

So she surprised him when she spoke. “No, yours.”

He smiled, and she rolled her eyes. “Don’t get too smug,” she said. “It’s all about your shower, not you.”

But he knew it was a little bit about him too.

A few days later, Sadie worked eight hours at the day spa and then three more at the Canvas Shop. By the time she stepped into the courtyard at the end of her day, it was eight thirty and she was dead on her feet and starving.

She’d half expected Caleb to show up between her two shifts as he’d been making a habit of doing, but he hadn’t. She looked at her phone for the tenth time. Still no messages.

He was always the one to make the move to contact her, to make plans to see her. She’d played a passive role, she realized, more than a little surprised at herself. Because she wasn’t passive.

So she went to him. She and Lollipop showed up at his building and took the elevator to the penthouse level where his office was. There was a guy behind the desk, young, early twenties. He wore a headset and was on the phone telling someone that Caleb wasn’t in today, but he could take a message.

“Sadie?”

Sadie turned and found one of Caleb’s sisters standing in the doorway of an office.

“Sienne,” his sister said in the way of introduction. “I’m the oldest.”

“Hi.” Sadie was working hard at not wondering how much Sienne had discovered about her during the vetting process. “I’m just looking for Caleb.”

“He’s not in today.”

Sadie had awoken that morning when Caleb’s alarm had gone off at, oh, dark thirty. He’d had them both panting and entangled in a pile of sweaty sheets before rising and heading off to the gym and the rest of his day. He’d been fine. Better than fine if his cocky, sated smile had anything to say. “Is he sick?”

“No.” Sienne hesitated. “His old sensei is.”

“Naoki?”

“You know him?” Sienne asked in surprise.

“Yes, Caleb’s taken me to meet him.”

Sienne chewed on the inside of her cheek as she studied Sadie for a beat. Then she pulled a phone from her pocket, hit a number, and waited for a connection. “I owe you twenty bucks.” She disconnected. “And I owe you an apology,” she said to Sadie.

“For what?”

“I didn’t think you’d be the one.”

“The one what?” Sadie asked warily.

“The one to convince Caleb he doesn’t have to be an island. Apparently, you’re his lobster.”

Sadie blinked and opened her mouth but ended up shutting it again because she didn’t have words. She was completely speechless.

“Damn,” a woman said, coming up behind Sienne. Another sister. “You need to stop scaring people by telling them stuff they haven’t yet admitted to themselves.” She took Sadie’s hand and squeezed it. “I’m Hannah. The nice one. Ignore my nosy-ass sister, okay? You’ll figure things out in your own time. And when you do, we’ll be here waiting for you with all the 411 you could ever want to know about our baby brother, including the time he blew up our one and only working toilet when he was teaching himself advanced chemistry and physics. At age eight.”

Sadie still couldn’t speak. Hell, she wasn’t sure she was breathing.

“Seriously?” a very, very pregnant woman asked, coming out of the elevator. “What’s wrong with you, scaring Caleb’s girlfriend to death?” She waved a hand in front of Sadie and Sadie felt herself blink. “Well, maybe only half to death,” she corrected. “She seems to be coming around. Hi, I’m Kayla. The perpetually pregnant one.”

“Hi. I’ve”—Sadie waved a hand toward the elevator—“gotta go.”

“Wait.” Sienne grimaced. “I’m sorry. Please tell me you’re not going to dump him now just because he comes with a scary family.”

That had Sadie relaxing enough to smile. “Trust me, you guys don’t even register on the scary scale.”

“So . . . you won’t dump him?” Hannah asked.

“I’m going to see if he needs anything, or if there’s anything I can do for him or Naoki.” She turned to the elevator and then glanced back. “Which one of you makes him that homemade mac and cheese when he’s had a rough day?”

“I do,” Sienne said.

“Would you be willing to share the recipe with me?”

The sisters stared at one another and apparently came to some silent conclusion because Sienne had her phone out again. “I’ll text it to you.”

Sadie received Sienne’s recipe via text before she even got to her car. It was probably for the best if she didn’t obsess over how Caleb’s sister had her number. Because no doubt she’d learned it—and far more—when she’d been doing her research. But clearly, she hadn’t found out everything, or Caleb wouldn’t still be interested in her.

And by some miracle, he was still interested. More than. According to him, they were in a relationship, which meant he was her boyfriend. The word seemed so tame when compared to what she felt for him.

She made a quick stop at the store and then went home to make the mac and cheese. An hour later, she and Lollipop were back on the road, on their way to Caleb’s with a casserole dish and she had to laugh at herself. No one who knew her would even recognize her right now.

At Caleb’s place, she slid her hand into her pocket and fingered the key fob he’d given her last week.

“Use it,” he’d said.

At the time, she’d been uncomfortable with that, with him wanting her to make herself at home there. But then she’d fallen in love.

With his shower.

In spite of the key fob, she debated knocking, but in the end, let herself and Lollipop in.

The house was dark.

But not empty.

She could sense his presence in the way her body tingled. Specifically her nipples. She’d walked through the dark living room and was halfway to the kitchen when she paused and turned back.

Lollipop gave a yip of excitement and took off as Sadie realized Caleb was sitting in one of the two big chairs facing his wall-sized TV, which was off. He was in a pair of running pants and nothing else. No shirt, bare feet. Head back. Eyes closed.

Since nothing ever got by him, she knew that he was aware of their presence, and in fact he caught Lollipop in midair.

Sadie set her things down and watched as he stroked the happy dog, who gave him one last kiss before jumping down and racing into the kitchen to check her bowls.

Sadie moved closer, dropping to her knees between Caleb’s, her hands on his thighs. She studied his face, looking for clues to what he was feeling. He was exhausted. She could see that much in the tiny lines that always appeared around his eyes when he tired. He worked a lot of hours and was responsible for so many businesses and people, she couldn’t even imagine the stress he felt every day. “Hey,” she whispered.

He didn’t speak, but his hands came off the armrests and covered hers.

“How’s Naoki?”

This had his head coming up and his eyes met hers in question.

“Your sisters,” she said.

He sighed and let his head drop back again. “The Coven. They live to interfere.”

“They wanted to help. And so do I.”

His hands slid from hers, up her arms and into her hair. “Well, you are in another of my favorite positions . . .”

Leaning down, she bit the inside of his thigh through the material of his sweats, and he hissed out a breath. “Rough works.”

“Later,” she promised. “Tell me about Naoki, and then . . . ”

He met her gaze again, his haunted, hollow, and very dark. “And then?”

“Whatever you want,” she promised and meant it.

“Naoki’s in the hospital. He fell and hit his head.”

“Oh no,” she breathed. “How bad is it?”

“They found him right away, but think he had a mini stroke. It’s not his first. They’re happening more often now and they can’t seem to be stopped. He’s a ticking time bomb at this point.”

“Caleb . . .” She felt her heart pinch. “I’m so sorry. Did you get to see to him?”

“He was lucid for a few seconds. He was calm and said it was his time.” His voice was gruff. Thick. “That he’s ready to go.” He paused. “But I’m not ready. How selfish is that?”

Shaking her head, she wrapped her arms around him and laid her head on his chest. “You love him. Love is selfish.”

“Thought you didn’t know shit about love.”

Ignoring that for the moment, she lifted her head. “When was the last time you ate?”

He shrugged.

She went to the kitchen and brought him back a bowl of her mac and cheese. Lollipop had curled up in the dog bed next to his chair but lifted her head at the scent of the dish.

Caleb looked down at Sadie’s offering and gave a ghost of a smile. “So you really did talk to my sisters.”

She waited until he had a bite before admitting the truth. “I made it,” she said, knowing fully well that it couldn’t possibly be as good as what he was used to. “It’s Sienne’s recipe, and I followed it to the letter. Well, except for the part where you have to wait a few minutes for the cheese sauce to thicken. I didn’t have the patience for that part. And I might’ve used more butter than she does because hello, I get that our arteries are important, but so is butter.”

He held her gaze as he took another bite. And then another, and another, until it was all gone. Setting the bowl aside, he reached for her and pulled her down into his lap. “I thought you hated to cook.”

“Turns out maybe I do know a little bit about love after all. Or I’m learning anyway.”

For a beat their gazes locked, and then he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her into him, tucking his face into the crook of her neck. She felt the heat of his bare torso and smooth, sinewy back and inhaled the innate scent of him that was better than anything she’d ever experienced. When his chest hitched, she tightened her grip, trying to give him everything she had. They remained like that, locked together, him drawing from her warmth and strength for once, instead of the other way around. She didn’t want to ever let go.

Since that night they’d adopted Lollipop, and maybe even far before that, she’d taken comfort from him. A lot of comfort. And now she was finally able to give him some of it back. “I’m so sorry, Caleb,” she whispered, her eyes stinging.

He nodded and held on, and she knew with certainty that they were working toward something pretty amazing, something she’d never imagined having for herself.

“Talk to me,” he said gruffly. “Take me out of my own head.”

“Okay . . .” But she couldn’t think of anything. “What do you want me to talk about?”

“You. Tell me something about you that no one else knows.”

He’d never asked anything of her, not once. And maybe it was that this strong powerful man could let himself be vulnerable with her, to her, that he could let himself need her, that made the difference. She took a deep breath and attempted to do the same. It was time, past time, to give him more of her, maybe even some of the dark parts she’d worked so hard to keep to herself.

So she stared out into the dark night over his head and began to talk. “You wondered why I don’t have a lot of tattoos.” He’d asked several times now, and she’d avoided answering. “I love creating tattoos,” she said. “I also love applying my art to people and giving their skin a voice. And I love the few tattoos I have, very much. Each represents far more than art to me, and because of that, I wanted to honor them by making them my only ones.” She hesitated. “Two of them cover scars.”

Caleb lifted his head to meet her gaze, his own dark, serious, and very intent on hers. “The ones on your thigh.”

“Yes,” she said. “And as you also know, there’s a third, more recent scar I didn’t cover.” Because this was hard, much harder than she’d even imagined, she rose off his lap and moved to the window. The room was still dark, the only light came from the kitchen as she stared out into the night, her back to Caleb. “I was a cutter,” she murmured. “Which means—”

Caleb’s hands gently slid to her hips. He’d come silently up behind her, entering her atmosphere. His heat warmed her back before his chest touched it, his arms slowly wrapping around her.

“I know what it means,” he said quietly.

She didn’t turn to face him. Couldn’t. She’d spent a lot of years being ashamed of herself, though she’d eventually gotten past that. But it was still difficult to talk about. “I started young. It’s hard to explain why because I’m not that same scared, lonely, frustrated, angry, hurting teenager anymore, but—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Sadie. Ever.”

Relief had her shoulders dropping from her ears. Emotion at his deep understanding of her clogged her throat. “I know,” she managed. “And thank you. But you’ve shared yourself with me, and I’ve held back. You’ve been patient, and that means more than I can say. You haven’t rushed me. But . . .” She closed her eyes. “I have a dark side to me, Caleb. Sharing it is hard, but I feel like you should know.” There was more, of course, but she wasn’t ready to reveal it. Didn’t know if she ever would be. “I cut on and off for five years,” she said quietly.

A low sound of regret escaped from deep in his chest. “No one knew?” he asked. “No one was there for you?”

She turned to face him. When she raised her eyes to his, she saw genuine concern and a carefully banked anger that she knew wasn’t directed at her. “No,” she said, “but to be fair to my family, I was very good at hiding it. And even better at pushing them away and keeping them out of my hair. I wasn’t suicidal.” She needed him to know that. “It was almost the opposite. I was so sad and angry and hurting, but I had nowhere to put all of it. Cutting was . . . like releasing the emotions. I can’t explain it better than that. I cut in the same two spots high on my thigh so I could hide it. And I didn’t tell anyone because I knew they wouldn’t understand, they’d think that I wanted to end it—” She shook her head. “But then, slowly, all those terrible, negative emotions inside of me drained away enough for me to breathe and I stopped. And when I knew I was past ever needing to go back to it, I covered the scars with the two tattoos you’ve seen. Heart over mind, courage over fear. It was like giving myself a second chance. A clean slate, with no reminders of where I’d once been.”

“I loved those tattoos from the moment I first saw them,” he said, pulling her into him. “But now that I know the meaning behind them, I love them even more.” He brushed a kiss to the sweet spot beneath her ear. “Are you going to tell me about the third cutting scar, the one you didn’t cover?”

Hello to yet another dark place deep inside her. She drew a deep breath. “I had a relapse.”

Another low sound escaped him and he wrapped himself tighter around her as if he could protect her in the here and now from the ghosts of her past. “How long ago?”

“Three years.”

His hands were gentle when he cupped her face. “Does that timeline have anything to do with why you hadn’t been with anyone in three years?”

“Yes.” She wanted to look away, but she couldn’t tear her gaze from his steady calm one. “I met someone,” she said. “Through my mom, actually. Wes was a lawyer.” She managed a small smile. “He was normal, at least compared to the guys of my past, the ones that were so bad for me, so I thought I’d give him a try. He was fun, charming, sweet . . . He wore suits.” She grimaced and let out a low laugh. “My parents adored him.”

She felt Caleb draw in a deep inhale. “What happened?”

“He . . .” She closed her eyes. “This is really embarrassing.”

“Sadie, it’s me.” His hands were warm and tender on her face. “You can tell me anything.”

Yeah, she was starting to get that. But she still couldn’t imagine telling him the whole story. “When he saw the tattoos on my thigh, he was fascinated by them, and I admitted that they covered my cutting scars.” She shook her head, still envisioning how he’d reacted.

“Tell me he didn’t care,” Caleb said. “That he didn’t dump you because of that.”

“No.” She actually found a low laugh. “He didn’t say anything about them at all. But as it turned out, he liked my dark side, a little too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“He, um . . . wanted to watch.”

Caleb went very still. “You mean he wanted to watch you cut yourself?”

“Yeah. I guess it’s a fetish thing.”

“Jesus.” Caleb dropped his forehead to hers. “Did you—?”

“No.” She swallowed hard. “Not intentionally. One night after a fight, I . . . I thought I was alone, but he’d come in and was watching. I . . . it was a private thing, I was feeling sad and vulnerable and a little down, but when I realized he was watching and was really into it, it freaked me out. I dumped him.” She closed her eyes. “But I let him set me back.” She shook her head. “No, that’s not fair. I set myself back. That’s where the third scar comes from. I fell back into that pattern for a few months before I realized that I’d let a guy bring me back to that place. So I stopped. That was three years and a lifetime ago. Or so it seems.”

“Is that why you specialize in tats for women and covering scars?” he asked.

She lifted a shoulder. “It’s not easy to tattoo over a scar. I just want to be able to do the same for others if they need.”

Whispering her name softly, he kissed her, sweet, lingering but just warm lips, no tongue. “Thanks for trusting me enough to share that part of you,” he said quietly. “I won’t ever break that trust. I know you’re not sure about us yet, but I’m sure enough for the both of us. You can take your time to tell me the rest, I’m not going anywhere.”

“How do you know there’s more to tell?”

“Because it’s still in your eyes.”

And he wasn’t going to push. He was okay with her having her dark side. He was okay with her keeping it to herself if that’s what she needed. She’d never met anyone like him. Going up on tiptoes, she met his kiss with one of her own. The kind of kiss that did involve tongue. The kind of kiss that led to soft moans and hot hands and losing clothes and rolling across the mattress to their mutual satisfaction.

An hour later, Caleb was sprawled flat on his back, fast asleep and maybe comatose. He looked sated, which she knew he was, and . . . content. And it was that which had doubts surfacing. He didn’t know it yet, but she wasn’t the right one for him. She was too jaded, too stubborn, too broken—

“I can hear your brain spinning,” he mumbled, reaching for her without opening his eyes. “What’s wrong? You hungry? You want to fondle me in my sleep? I’m here for you, babe.”

A smile formed without her consent at the drowsy quality of his deep voice. Even half asleep he was still in tune to her completely and it vanquished her wavering confidence. “I’m okay. I’m just going to go into the other room so I don’t keep you up.”

“Nope.” He’d already dragged her into his embrace and now he tightened his grip, settling his face in the crook of her neck, kissing her there before falling back asleep.

She waited until he was all the way out this time. With a sense of feminine pride for having put him in that state, she slipped quietly out of bed.

Her intention had been for some more of the leftover mac and cheese, but she slowed at the kitchen table because Caleb’s laptop was open, sending a glow into the room.

She didn’t mean to invade his privacy, but her gaze slid to the screen. It was open to his e-mail program and she couldn’t help it. One of the subject lines of an e-mail jumped up and grabbed her by the throat. She froze to the point she wasn’t even breathing. What the actual hell. Her feet took her closer until she was standing at the table, staring at the subject line: