“I’ll walk you all to the bus,” Caleb informs me and sets his half-eaten plate aside.
“Eat your breakfast, Caleb. We’re fine.”
“I’ll walk you all to the bus,” he repeats, winks at me, and moves with easy grace into the living room to pull on a green jacket and his shoes.
Once we’re all bundled up, the girls pull their backpacks on and we walk up the long driveway to the road. Josie takes my hand in hers and Maddie reaches for Caleb. His handsome face looks surprised for a moment and then he smiles down at her as we walk.
Within minutes the bus pulls up and the girls climb aboard along with a few other neighborhood kids.
Caleb and I stand and wait for the bus to pull away before walking back to the house. As we start the walk down the drive, I shove my hands in my pockets, fighting off the chill in the air, and glance over at him. He’s on high alert, his eyes scanning the house, the trees, the bushes.
“What are you looking for?” I ask and follow his gaze.
“Anything that doesn’t seem to fit.”
Everything looks normal to me.
“Aren’t you guys being a little over cautious?” I ask and am met with an icy blue stare.
“No.”
“Okay.” I shrug and lead him back into the house. “Well, you survived your first Spanish Inquisition.”
Caleb laughs and pulls his jacket off, hangs it on the tree by the door, and takes mine to do the same.
“They’re really sweet girls, Bryn.”
“Thank you,” I nod. “But they ask a lot of questions.”
“Yes, they do.” Caleb shakes his head and laughs. “I almost think I’d rather be interrogated by the enemy. At least then all I have to give them is my name, rank and social security number.”
“Don’t say that,” I mutter and hug him around the middle tightly, surprising him.
“Hey, what’s this?”
“That’s just not funny,” I whisper and then back away, embarrassed. “I worried about you a lot.”
“Why?” he asks with raised brows.
I roll my eyes at him and sigh deeply. “Oh, I don’t know, Caleb. Maybe because you were constantly going God-knows-where, doing God-knows-what, and I knew it was dangerous, and I was on pins and needles until you came back home safely.”
He flounders for a moment, and I realize I’ve just shocked the shit out of him.
Does he really not understand how much I care for him?
“Don’t worry about it,” I shake my head and turn away, walking briskly into the kitchen. “I’m happy you’re safe. Just don’t make jokes like that.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I hear him whisper behind me, making me grin as I load the rest of the dirty dishes into the dishwasher, put a tab of soap into the round compartment and start it.
“What do you have going on today?” He asks gruffly.
“I have errands to run this morning, then I don’t have anything until the kids get home around six. I’ll start dinner around five.”
“Okay, well let’s get ready to head out then. After your errands, we have someplace to go.”
“Where?”
His face is still sober as he watches me. Something has changed in his eyes, in his posture. He looks… confused.
“You’ll see,” he mutters and turns to leave the room.
***
“I don’t know about this,” I mutter and watch as Caleb pushes a clip into his handgun with a loud snick.
“You need to learn,” he reminds me for the thousandth time since we left the post office and he told me we were coming to the shooting range.
“Why? I don’t like the idea of having a gun in the house with the girls.”
“The girls won’t be shooting it.” He passes me a pair of clear shooting glasses and ear protection.
“Caleb, accidents happen.”
“Number one,” he begins, his voice hard, jaw locked and eyes cold. He’s in military mode.
It’s fucking scary as hell.
“Any weapon in your house will either be on our person or locked away. The girls will never have an opportunity to have an accident.” He cocks an eyebrow at me, waiting for me to respond.
I’ll be damned if I will say yes, sir.
“Okay,” I respond and lift my chin.
His lips twitch before he continues.
“Number two, you need to learn this so you can protect yourself. The people who may or may not be looking for you are dangerous, and they will have firearms. Your screwdriver can’t compete with that.”
“Hey,” I begin, but he cuts me off.
“And number three,” he leans in to whisper in my ear. “Don’t be a pussy.”
That does it. Just like that, I’m fucking pissed as hell.
Pussy? I’m no damn pussy.
I narrow my eyes at him and push my face up to his. “Bring it on, sailor.”
“Good girl,” he mutters and grins down at me proudly. “Have you ever held a handgun before?”
“No.”
“Okay.” He holds it up for me to inspect. “This is the safety. It’s off because we’re about to shoot it.” He grins at me and I can tell he loves this. “This magazine has ten rounds in it. I have four more with me.”
“Got it,” I nod, staring at the black weapon in his hands, completely at a loss.
“Do you want me to go first?” he asks.