When Summer Comes (Whiskey Creek #3)(23)
Author: Brenda Novak

A sound brought his head up. He couldn’t identify it, but it didn’t seem to fit with the noises he’d been hearing. He thought maybe someone was creeping toward the barn.

Had he missed picking up on the hum of a motor?

Maybe the police or the men who owned the pit bulls were back, hoping to take him by surprise. Neither group wanted him hanging around….

The creak of the barn door, along with a subtle flash of moonlight, told him he’d guessed right. Someone was approaching. He had no idea who, but he refused to allow himself to be caught in a vulnerable position.

He pretended to roll over, so the sound of his movements would draw whoever it was immediately to him, but got up instead. Then he waited for the right moment, for the intruder to come close.

A second later he heard footsteps near his bed and grabbed whoever it was from behind, cutting off his air with one arm and rendering him immediately defenseless.

Only it wasn’t a him. The soft body against his gave Callie away long before she could even attempt to speak.

* * *

Panic turned Callie’s knees to water as she felt the raw power of Levi’s quick, sure movements. She opened her mouth to scream but couldn’t get enough air.

For the first time, she was afraid of him. Really afraid. In that moment, she knew without a doubt that, despite her diagnosis, she still cared about living, about sticking around for as long as possible.

The fear didn’t last, however. As soon as he realized it was her, he eased his hold and turned her in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he murmured. “I hope…I hope I didn’t hurt you. I didn’t know…”

His words fell off, but she understood. He hadn’t known it was her. She should’ve announced herself. She would have, except that she’d been waiting to get close enough to touch his arm, in case he was sleeping. “It’s okay,” she said. “I…I shouldn’t have surprised you.”

“What are you doing out here?”

He released her but she couldn’t quite let go of him. She was still trying to overcome the effect of such a fright, worried that she might crumple to the ground. “I—I wanted to see if you’d come inside.”

“Why?”

His deep voice rumbled in her ear, but he must have felt her unsteadiness because his hands no longer hung at his sides. They were sliding up her back. She could feel the warmth of his splayed fingers through the satin of her pajama top as he drew her into a solid embrace that reassured her but did nothing to slow her galloping heart.

Instinctively, she rested her cheek against the soft cotton of his T-shirt. Don’t read anything into this. He’s just being kind. But she couldn’t deny that the chemistry between them had suddenly changed. She liked the feel of his firm chest, the security she felt in the circle of his arms, but there was also a sexual element—probably because he wasn’t completely dressed. She’d already felt the band of his briefs and, since her pajama bottoms were panties, the crisp hair on his legs as he brushed up against her.

She swallowed hard as his hands settled between her shoulder blades. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Why not?”

“I was…I was worried that maybe Denny and his idiot friend would come back and cause trouble.”

“They might. But they’re the kind of trouble I can handle.”

“Not if they bring a weapon. And not if you want to avoid the police.” She stepped away because the embrace had gone on too long. She didn’t know this man. Not really. Although they’d spent two days together, he’d revealed very little about himself. And there was Kyle. They weren’t in a romantic relationship; they both knew that. But they’d slept together as recently as last week, which made her feel disloyal in spite of their understanding. “Anyone can be taken unawares.”

He didn’t respond.

“So what do you say?” she asked.

“About what?”

She wondered what he was feeling, if he’d enjoyed their contact as much as she had. “Will you come in? I think…I think it would help me relax if I knew you were safe, that we were both in the house.”

He didn’t seem eager to accept. He was suddenly so standoffish that she expected him to say he was fine where he was and let it go at that.

But he didn’t. “I’m sorry if you’re lonely,” he said. “I wish things were different but…I have nothing to offer you.”

“I’m not asking for…for sex,” she clarified. “I just want…I just want you to come in the house.”

She was pretty sure she wouldn’t be opposed to having sex with him, however. Right now, more contact with him was all she could think about. He seemed to understand that but, after a brief hesitation, he said okay and grabbed something.

“What’s that?” she asked.

“My pack. It has my clothes.”

She wondered if it also contained condoms.

8

Maybe if Levi had been able to go back to sleep, he wouldn’t have realized something was wrong. The noises that tipped him off were slight enough he might’ve credited them to the dog. Except that Callie had shut Rifle up in the mudroom. He whined occasionally, but the noises that worried Levi weren’t coming from that direction. They were coming from Callie’s bedroom.

Relax. If she was up and around, it was none of his business. Dawn was turning the night sky a deep shade of purple. Perhaps she was an early riser. Soon, he’d get up and start his day, too, and with any luck he’d finish repairing the barn so he could paint tomorrow.

A weak-sounding cough had Rifle scratching at the door, as if he didn’t like what he heard, either. What was going on?

Levi sat up. “Callie?”

There was no response from her, but Rifle barked. A second later a toilet flushed.

She was up, all right. She had to be. But when he twisted around to look at her door, he couldn’t see a light underneath it. Like him, she probably couldn’t sleep and was tossing and turning.

Then he heard another sound, a sound of distress, and that got him up and moving.

“Callie?” He knocked at her bedroom door. She didn’t respond, but the door wasn’t locked. Apparently, she wasn’t worried that he might attack her. Almost from the beginning—at least since she’d found him bleeding in her bathroom—she seemed to trust him more than their short acquaintance should warrant. He wouldn’t have advised her to take the same approach with any other stranger, but he appreciated how her confidence made him feel. He didn’t want her to be wary of him. He’d hated how the women who’d passed through his father’s life had flinched at any sudden movement—even though they’d reacted that way for good reason.