“Oh, yeah? Care to bet?” He waggled his eyebrows.
Caleb guided me to the passenger side, opened the door, and patiently waited for me to climb inside.
My breath hitched when he reached for the seat belt, pulling it slowly across my chest.
“Safety first,” he murmured, his eyes meeting mine as the belt clicked into place.
The simple gesture made my heart race even more than before.
He settled into the driver’s seat and started the engine. As we pulled away, I swallowed hard, my fingers clutching my bag.
“You okay?” Caleb asked gently, obviously sensing my discomfort without even looking over.
“Never better,” I croaked out, knowing a panic attack was lingering.
As we stopped at a train crossing, I decided to distract myself and closed the gap between us to give him a peck on the lips. As I went to pull away, Caleb’s hand gently cupped my cheek, and he deepened the kiss. Just as my tongue licked his lips, he pulled away all too soon. With Caleb by my side, the panic seemed to subside quicker than usual.
CHAPTER 11
Caleb
The mini golfcourse was in the next town, Pineberry. The thirty-minute drive would be a good opportunity for Grace and me to get to know each other better. My mind wandered to Noelle because I felt a little bit guilty leaving her.
She was with my mother for the night. I wouldn’t leave her unless I really enjoyed the person. In nine years, I hadn’t dated much. Roxy resented me and eventually considered Noelle and me baggage. I wasn’t going to put Noelle through the pain of losing another person until I felt things progressing. My main concern was, and always would be, Noelle. It was what any good father should do—put their kid first.
I turned to glance at Grace, who seemed nervous, even afraid? I decided to make idle small talk to ease her nerves. “You know I still can’t believe you never got your license, missy.” I laughed, merging into the left lane.
“Yeah,” Grace breathed. She sounded a little nervous.
I glanced over at her, and she wasn’t smiling. I had only been teasing—it really wasn’t all that hard to believe that she didn’t have a license. A lot of people who lived in the city opted for public transit. Grace had mentioned she had drivers upuntil recently, so getting a license probably wasn’t as much of a necessity if you lived in the suburbs or outer boroughs.
I reached across the console for her hands. She had both of them clenched tightly in her lap and she was stiff as a board. I wondered if she had some sort of aversion to driving.
I wanted to ask, but it was hard to tell which subjects were off-limits. She seemed scared of her past. The last thing I wanted was to trigger her flight response, to have her shut down on me.
I made a joke about trust-fund babies earlier in the ride and then realized who I was speaking to and instantly felt bad, but she was a good sport about it.
From what I’d learned so far, Grace was pretty well-off between her trust fund and the money she’d earned modeling. She owned a property on the Upper East Side, but for some reason, didn’t live in it.
I had questioned why she’d want to spend money on a house she didn’t live in, but she shut the conversation down quickly, citing she had her reasons. She was selling the brownstone and didn’t want to talk about the reason why. It seemed Grace’s brownstone was a big trigger for her. It made me think that whatever her secret was might have to do with her brownstone.
Needing to gauge whether driving was the cause of her stiff demeanor, I pressed on. “I know driving might seem daunting, but it’s all about who’s teaching you.” I winked at her as I stopped at the red light. My pickup truck might not be the best vehicle to teach her in, though.
“Maybe one day.” She sighed and looked out her window.
I squeezed her hands, wanting to support her even though I didn’t know exactly what I was supporting.
From that point forward, the car ride was pretty silent. It struck me as odd, considering this girl spoke a million miles a minute, blurting whatever went through her pretty head. As wepulled into the mini golf parking lot, I glanced over at Grace, who looked like she’d seen a ghost.
After I’d unbuckled my seat belt, I gently caressed her arm, and once she leaned into my touch, I engulfed her in a hug. She sure looked like she needed one.
“I’m sorry. You don’t seem very comfortable here,” I murmured into her hair.
“I once was someone who thought I found my place in high society. Now it seems like I don’t fit in many places these days,” Grace whispered softly into my shoulder. Her tone was heavy and filled with sadness. It made my chest tighten and I wanted to find out who did this to her, who made her feel like this. I wanted her to never feel this way again.
“I’d say you fit pretty well right here,” I murmured, my lips in her golden hair.
As I pulled away, Grace appeared apprehensive, like she wanted to say something but was frightened. It gave me pause, and I waited for her to be ready as she studied my face.
