Irresistible Bachelors: Books 1-5 by Landish, Lauren (bts books to read TXT) 📕

him back, and for over a minute, he stares up at the ceiling, reliving some small private hell before he replies softly, but with a harsh edge to his voice, “I don’t really want to talk about that.”

I look in his eyes for a moment longer, and part of me says I need to push the issue, but another side of me is afraid that if I do, he’s going to get out of bed and walk out. Finally, I compromise. I cup his cheek, turning him to look at me as I sit up a bit more, and I lean over, kissing him gently on the lips.

“Okay, but you really shouldn’t hold that stuff in. Whatever she did, let it out and move on. You’re a great man. And I’m not talking as your fuck buddy or as your friend. I’m saying that as someone who cares about you. You deserve better than whatever she did. If you ever want an ear to listen, I’ll be here. I promise.”

I slide back down, turning over to tuck my pillow under my head. I can feel Caleb’s heat behind me, but he’s stiff, uncomfortable, and I start to regret even bringing it up. He is silent for so long, I think he’s given up and fallen asleep. I’m just on the verge of sleep myself when I hear him speak quietly. “Her name was Wendy.”

I don’t dare say anything back, afraid if he knows I’m really listening, he’ll stop. Still, Caleb turns on his side and lays a hand on my shoulder, and I turn over, looking at him silently in the dim light that filters through the window. I can see in his eyes that he’s got a lot to get through. Still not saying a word, I shift and pull him to my chest, letting him rest his head on my breast. Caleb adjusts too, and I wonder if he’s going to say more.

“We dated several years ago. I was in college. Even then, I was interested in more hands-on stuff, but I wanted to make sure I knew my business side too. I was more reserved back then, more interested in finding the one. We met my senior year, when I was looking at getting started with a construction company her dad owned. I wasn’t really looking to get with her at first, but we hit it off well.”

I say nothing, just trying to imagine a quiet, reserved Caleb. He’s always been . . . I guess the best word is tranquil, but reserved? It’s hard to imagine.

“I thought she was the one. I really did. We’d talked about getting married, having a family, and settling down, and God, I wanted that. I thought I wanted that with her. After I got my degree, I started full-time with her dad, and we started . . . well, we decided that we didn’t need protection anymore. The day she told me she was pregnant was the happiest day of my life. I picked her up and twirled her around the room as I shouted with joy. As soon as I set her down, I dropped to one knee and asked her to marry me. I didn’t have a ring or anything, but she said yes and I thought every dream I ever had was coming true. I got us a good apartment, and I worked myself to the bone with her dad to make sure I was bringing in enough money that we’d start family life off on the right foot. Wendy said she was happy, and I don’t know, maybe she was at first.”

He takes a deep breath, continuing. “A few months went by, and she was sick . . . so sick, throwing up morning, noon, and night. And I tried to help as much as I could, cleaning up the house so she could take a nap, making whatever she could stomach for dinner, but it was rough on her. We went in for a sonogram, supposedly to learn the sex of the baby. I remember being so damn excited. I had balloons in the trunk of the car, both It’s a Girl! and It’s a Boy! so I was ready either way. And I sat there in that fucking office, holding her hand as the doctor told us. The baby had stopped growing. There wasn’t a heartbeat. I didn’t need a fucking balloon. I was devastated, and I tried to hug her. She was stone-cold, no expression. I thought she was just too stunned, or she was being strong or something. She talked to the doctor about ‘what next’ and shit like that. I don’t even know because all I could think about was that we’d lost our baby. The doctor excused himself to give us a few moments to grieve, and she let out a big sigh . . . of relief.”

Wait, relief? Did I just hear him correctly? I still don’t dare utter a word, but if I heard right . . . my heart starts breaking for Caleb, whom I can imagine putting himself through hell in order to take care of this woman. He’d have worked fourteen hours a day and come home to take care of her for another six if he had to. And she was . . . relieved.

“She wasn’t overwhelmed like I was. She was just relieved. I tried to talk to her. I honestly don’t remember what I said, but she got mad and loud. She started yelling at me, and I don’t think she meant to say it, but she did. She yelled, ‘It wasn’t even your baby!’ I’m not sure what hurt more, the fact that it wasn’t mine or that she was already talking in the past tense. I drove her home, packed a bag, and never looked back. I called her dad, saying I was leaving, and he said he understood. He, at least, had integrity, and he even sent me two