Chapter Thirteen

Wednesday morning broke bright and sunny, though a definite chill resided in the air. Not surprising for late November.

Lily pulled herself from the warm pile of blankets and cats all cuddled on the sleeper sofa. Certainly not as comfortable as her bed, but it could have been worse. Not bothering to make her temporary bed with the cats still asleep, she quickly headed to the second bathroom in the hallway right outside the spare bedroom. Since the guys had moved into the master bed and bath, she had contented herself with the smaller guest bathroom. It afforded her a bit more privacy and she didn’t have to wake them up when she woke early.

With her hair pulled up in a ponytail, she headed to the kitchen in her warm and comfortable sweats. Baking monopolized her agenda for the day. Pies, cinnamon rolls, and homemade bread. All stood on her list as a must for Thanksgiving lunch.

Carson called just as she was pulling ingredients out for the pie. “How’s our patient today?”

“Up and about. Ate like a horse last night. Wound still looks clean. Light pink, just serous drainage with a few spots of blood now and again. The sitz baths have helped, I think. No redness or pus.”

“Great. Sounds like you can remove the IV and change him over to the oral antibiotics I sent. Get one more dose in him this morning, then transition him over.”

“Okay.” She plopped the berries in the sink, cradling her cell phone between her ear and shoulder. “How’s the family?”

“Good.”

She simpered at his lackluster tone. “Driving you mad, yet?”

Carson snorted. “Almost, but Casey’s happy. That’s all that counts.”

A twinge of envy hit Lily at the absolute love and adoration Carson felt for his wife Casey. Most likely women searched a lifetime for such a complete man, a rock solid relationship, and love that poured from them when they were together. Lily knew she’d read all the fairy tales growing up, had looked around here and there for her version of Prince Charming and come up empty. Spinsterhood seemed more and more likely these days.

“Has Cale been ruffling your feathers?”

The quiet question pulled her from her thoughts. “Not really. He started out pretty intense, but I think we’ve agreed upon a truce.”

“Oh?”

She pulled out a kitchen chair and plopped down, making sure to keep her voice down lest her guests overhear. “Nothing formal, per se. Just an acknowledgment that he pawed through my underwear drawer and a subtle hint at some freaky toe licking fetish.”

Warm laughter rang through the phone. She grinned in reaction, pleased with how things had progressed this morning.

“I think you’re good for him.”

Lily shrugged. “They need rest and care is all.”

“True, but that’s not what I meant. You’re good for Cale. He needs someone to remind him how to laugh, to show him a gentler hand.”

“Carson…” She didn’t need him to go down that particular path. Heck, she had a hard enough time resisting the journey herself.

“He’s a good man, Lily. I’m just saying don’t close the door on the idea before you’ve given it a try.”

She sighed. “I don’t know. They’ll be gone in a few days, anyway.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

A muted voice spoke in the background. “I’ve got to get going. Call me if you need anything or if Dillon takes a bad turn, though I don’t expect he’d do so at this stage in the game.”

“Okay.”

“Lily, give fate a chance.” His words struck a chord deep inside.

“I’ll talk to you later.” Clicking off the conversation, she slumped back in the chair.

Nosey doctor. She could understand the general questions and inquiries about Dillon and his wound. But he couldn’t fool her with his not-so-subtle references to Cale. The man was fishing in an empty pond.

With a shake of her head, she stood up and quickly tossed frozen blueberries into a bowl, adding sugar and flour. After mixing it all up, she began to pour the contents into the ready-made pie shells when Cale walked into the room.

Her belly flip-flopped at the sight of his clean-shaven, handsome face, light blue eyes sparkling, and sleepy expression. Ever since their last kiss, she’d wished for more. Dreamed of what would come next. If brothers and cats didn’t interrupt, that is.

“Good morning.”

“Morning to you, too.” She took the wooden spoon and carefully scraped errant berries out of the bowl and into the small mound in the lower pie shell. “I’ll get breakfast in a minute. Let me…”

“I’ll take care of it.”

She paused to look up at his face, catching his indulgent expression. “Are you sure? I don’t mind.”

He waved her off, opening the fridge to check the contents. “I’ve fixed more than one meal in my life.” A box of mix appeared in his hand along with the milk before he shut the door. “Pancakes I can do.”

“Okay. Thanks.” She plopped the bowl into the sink then grabbed the top pie shell and carefully placed it over the berries.

“What are the plans for today?” He opened a cabinet and pulled out a medium-sized glass bowl and began to dump in batter, milk, and an egg, whisking them all together with ease of strength and long practice.

Lily watched his hands, marveling at their sureness and ability. What would those same hands feel like on her body, molding to her curves, teasing sensitive areas, and delving into secret places no other man had been? Combine that expertise with soft lips, darting tongue, and a taste of spring rain. Her lower tummy clenched in a pang of longing pleasure.

“Lily?”

The mention of her name broke through her early morning daydream. “Hmmm?”

“Plans? For the day?” Amusement laced his tone while his eyes sparkled as if he read her mind.

Kissing you. Touching you. Checking for that danged belly button. Her face heated. “Oh… Ummm…” Pinching the edges of the pie together, she took a second or two to get her sluggish mind back to spinning. “Plans. Let’s see. Get this pie baked. Cinnamon rolls. Maybe a chocolate cake. But I need to start the homemade bread next. That’ll take most of the day to get done.”

“Skillet?”

Lily reached into the oven, pulling out a small pile of gadgets and necessities, a large skillet included. She quickly handed it over. A tingle sizzled along her nerves when his fingers caressed hers during the exchange.

“Homemade bread? People still do that?” Cale confidently poured batter into the skillet, making small circles after turning on the heat and spraying it.

She nodded. “My mother made bread every year, usually around Christmas, but sometimes more often. You can’t imagine the wonderful aroma while it’s cooking and how it melts in your mouth, topped with butter.”

Setting the bowl aside, Cale met her gaze. A sultry lowering of his eyelids told her he pictured a bit more than eating bread. Her belly flopped once more.

She stepped closer, brushing against his large frame, standing on tiptoe as he lowered his head. No sooner had those gifted lips of his sealed over hers than he pushed his tongue forward, asking for entry. Automatically, she opened farther, not only allowing his inspection, but giving it right back to him.

“What’s for breakfast?”

With a muttered curse, Cale stepped back, his expression smoldering.

Lily pulled her attention from him, fighting to still her rapidly beating heart and increased breathing. “Dillon. Cale is…making pancakes.” Making me want to nibble on him, too.

A knowing grin covered Dillon’s face. With practiced ease, he shifted to the table using his crutches and sat down.

“Oh, Carson called. He said that after this morning’s IV antibiotic, I can take out that IV and we can give you the tablets he packed in the medical bag. From the way I described the wound, he thought it was healing nicely and you would soon be as good as new.” She sent him a small grin, thrilled with his quick recovery.

“Great. It’ll be a nice change to not be tied down for nearly an hour at a time, several times a day.”

She headed to the cabinet, pulling out plates and glasses while Cale returned to the fridge, and grabbed the butter. Both placed their items on the table.

“I can imagine,” she answered, setting the places for breakfast.

Hope’s loud cry broke through the kitchen.

“Oh, good grief. Don’t tell me she’s starving again?” Dillon looked down at the fluffy cat sitting at his feet. She met his eyes before meowing once more. “I guess that answered that.”

“Endless pits. All of them. I swear.” Lily dug through another cabinet, handing over two cans of cat food to Dillon. “Here you go. You can be their hero this morning.”

He snorted, but quickly pivoted on the chair enough to be able to pop the lids and pour the cans of food into three small ceramic dishes. The cats swarmed immediately, wasting no time digging into their breakfast. “They sure like that stuff.”

Lily watched them eat heartily. “Yeah. It’s expensive, but I can’t begin to deny them when they obviously love it.”

“You’re a good person, Lily,” Cale spoke quietly as he placed a plate full of pancakes on the table in front of his brother.

“I just did what any other person would do.” She strode over to grab the orange juice out of the fridge, uncomfortable with the rare praise.

Dillon concurred. “He’s right. I don’t know that I’ve said it, but thank you for taking us in, feeding us, the nursing care. Everything.”

She smiled at him, the bottle of juice on the table. With a deep sigh, she forced the words out of her mouth. “I’m the one that should be thanking you.”

Both men looked at her, confusion apparent on their faces. Cale sat down opposite Dillon, studying her carefully.

“I thought this holiday…would be lonely and sad just sitting home alone with no one to talk to, to be with, just my memories to sustain me. Then you guys showed up. It’s like a gift or fate or something. I’ve been having a good time and never once felt lonely. And I thank you for coming to stay with me.”

Cale regarded her for a long moment, his gaze flicking over her features, before standing once more. He pulled her flush and gave her a hug.

She felt the brush of lips on her temple and couldn’t help but grin at the small show of affection in front of others. A quick glance found Dillon beaming like a kid with a secret. He’ll probably torment Cale later. The thought only cheered her more. The guys could use all the humor and good-natured ribbing they could handle.

Releasing her, Cale eased back, stealing a quick, chaste kiss. “Eat up. Breakfast is getting cold and you need energy if you’re going to do all that baking you spoke of.”

“Baking?” Dillon’s face lit up.

Lily nodded, taking her seat. “Homemade bread, cinnamon rolls, and pies.”

A huge smile covered his face. “Better make extra. Cale doesn’t share well.”

Cale reached across to smack his brother on the back of the head before sitting down. “Brat.”

Both of the guys chuckled while Lily smiled to herself. From being such a surly man she first met, Cale was fast easing into a fun, teasing, and lovable soldier. He took pleasure in Dillon and the love shined through. Maybe, just maybe, she could find a way to keep that smile on his face and flash of mischief in his eyes. Nothing would make her happier.