Mixed Signals (The Lovelight Series Book 3) by B.K. Borison

Author:B.K. Borison [Borison, B.K.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-29T16:00:00+00:00

Caleb is waiting on my front porch when I get home.

Sprawled across my bottom steps like the most delicious lawn ornament I’ve ever seen, Caleb looks sun-kissed and lazy. Half-smile on his face. One long leg stretched out in front of him. I have to stop and take a moment as I slip out of my car.

“I thought you were taking me out tonight,” I call. I’m distracted by his white button-up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows and the collar undone. He must have come right from school, a light dusting of chalk against his left pants pocket where he probably leaned up against something.

“Change of plans,” he says with a grin. He nudges the grocery bag at his hip.

I stroll to a stop at the very bottom of my stairs and tip my head back as he uncurls himself from his step. The last time we were standing here, I had my knees hugging his hips and his mouth against mine. He exhales slowly, a look of deep concentration on his face, the line between his eyebrows deepening the longer he looks. I think he’s remembering, too.

“Thank you,” I tell him, my voice softer than I mean for it to be.

One eyebrow arches on his forehead. “For what?”

He grabs his bag of groceries as I lead him up the stairs. He’s warm at my back. Solid. I twist my key in the lock and usher us inside.

“For the sign,” I say. “Beckett and Stella showed me today. They said you helped. Thank you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Caleb sets the bag of groceries down on the countertop and begins to unpack. Tomatoes. Rice. A couple of limes and a bag of tortillas that look homemade. My stomach gives an appreciative rumble. “I’m not sure distracting you in the back while Beckett measured everything counts as helping.”

I pull out a cutting board and take the produce to the sink. “When was that?”

“Friday,” he says. He tears open a bag of tortilla chips and holds one in front of my face while my hands are in the sink. I bite down on the edge, my bottom lip against his thumb. His breath stutters in his chest as he pulls his hand away. “When you showed me that thing with the strawberries.”

That makes sense. Caleb kept acting like he’d never seen someone cut strawberries before. He must have asked me six times to show him how I slice them for garnish. I frown, a tickle of unease brushing against the back of my mind. I’ve had men pretend to be interested before, and it’s never ended well for me. I know this is all practice, but I don’t want to be a … chore.

Caleb notices my fidgeting. He sets down the bag of chips and props his hip against the counter at my side, dark eyes mapping my face. “What is it?”

“Nothing.” I shake my head and line up the limes on a clean dish towel. I nudge the water off with my elbow.

He’s having none of my deflection.

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