“Let me clean up in here, and I’ll be out in a second.” Monica began gathering all the food and placing it in the fridge. Cal caught a glimpse of its interior as he walked out the door. Even the man’s refrigerator looked tidy. And all health drinks, not a bottle of beer in sight. What kind of life would she have had with a knob like this? Ryan probably got his little-girl knickers in a wad when life became messy.

And Monica Campbell needed mess, chaos. She was meant for driving too fast and wearing nipple-baring lingerie and leaving a man devastated as she walked out of a room. When she’d been writhing on top of him, Monica was a goddess. With her head thrown back, she’d left behind all inhibitions and allowed herself to feel. If Cal possessed a talent for painting, he’d portray her like that. Naked. Wanton. Intoxicating.

But with one phone call, she’d lapsed back to that tight-assed demeanor. Why on earth did she hide behind that mask? Why the hell had she dated a man like Ryan? He wasn’t horrible—he was a perfectly nice, boring bloke who would give her a perfectly nice, boring life. Monica was meant for so much more.

Cal walked back to the living room and handed Ryan a plate. “There you go.”

“Thanks. Everything okay in there?” he asked and peeked beneath the top slice of wholemeal bread. “You two were gone a long time.”

“Just making a few plans. You’re obviously incapable of being on your own, so I’m staying tonight.”

“That’s not nec—”

“It is, actually.” Cal leaned forward and spoke in a low tone. “Otherwise, Monica will insist on staying herself. She has a big work thing coming up, and you’re the last thing she needs to worry about.”

Monica stepped out of the kitchen. “Ryan, you ready for your pills?” She glanced down at his untouched sandwich. “Is it all right?”

Ryan’s pallor belied his smile. Pain strained the lines near his eyes. “Yeah. Cal’s staying tonight. Really nice of him, by the way.”

“Are you sure?”

Ryan reached for her hand and kissed the back of it. “Absolutely. It was really nice of you to come for me, Monnie. ”

God, what a sickening display. Cal forced a smile. “He’ll be fine. Take my car, I’ll pick it up tomorrow.”

Still, Monica hesitated a moment. Then nodding, she headed toward the front door. “I’ll call and check on you,” she said to Ryan and grabbed her purse. “If you need anything—”

“That’s why I’m here.” Cal placed his hand on her upper arm and couldn’t help but give that satiny skin a couple of strokes with his thumb. Toned, yet so soft.

He escorted her out of the house and walked with her to the car. “Get some sleep, eh?”

“Thanks for doing this.”

“You’re welcome. Now kiss me one more time.” He placed his foot between hers and leaned down. Monica’s lips parted as she gazed at him with wide eyes. “Like you mean it.”

Monica’s hands rode up his chest, over his shoulders, until she linked them behind his neck. Rising to her toes, she placed her lips over his.

Cal’s fingers grazed her hips. While Monica’s mouth opened under his demanding kiss, Cal squeezed those globes, had visions of taking her from behind so he could simply stare at it.

Monica fell back against the car door, but she didn’t let go of him, didn’t stop kissing him. Cal followed, leaning against her and rotating his hips, grinding his cock against her.

She groaned and returned the favor, driving her hips forward, tormenting him, before snapping her head back. “Stop. We need to stop.”

That’s the last thing Cal wanted to do. But what was the alternative? Taking her in full view of all the neighbors? He must not be thinking clearly, because that didn’t seem like the worst idea he’d ever had.

Monica splayed her hands over his chest. “We can’t do this here.”

“Yes, all right.” Closing his eyes for a moment, he clenched his jaw. Regaining his equilibrium was a challenge. When he opened his eyes, he reached out and palmed her breast. “We’re not finished, you and I.” Then stepping back, he shoved his hand into his pocket—trying desperately to ignore his painfully hard prick—and withdrew the car keys. “Be safe. Remember, don’t give it too much gas.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She held out her hand, palm up. “Will you be nice to him?”

“Yes.” He reached out and curved a hand around her waist before delivering one last hard kiss to those full lips. “Go on with you.”

“Thanks. I’ll see if Evan can stop by in the morning to check on him.” She hopped into the car, waved, and pulled out of the drive.

When she didn’t give it too much gas, Cal smiled.

Striding back to the house, he remembered his promise. Be nice. Cal walked inside and clapped his hands. “So, mate, did you take your pills?”

“Yes, you can go now.” With his head tilted back against a pillow and his eyes closed, Ryan waved one hand. “I won’t tell Monica you left.”

“But I promised I’d stay.” Taking care of a sick person wasn’t Cal’s forte. The memories of Babcock, holding her hand, watching as she grew weaker with each passing day, all came back to him—that utter fucking helplessness. He needed to do something.

“I’ll make tea.” Babcock always claimed tea was a cure-all. He’d made a lot of tea over the last several months.

“No,” Ryan said. “I don’t drink it.”

“Coffee?”

“No thanks.”

Giving up, Cal sank down into the leather chair. “So how did you and Monica meet, anyway? Church social?”

“I’m more interested in hearing about the two of you. Where were you tonight?”

“Joyriding.”

Ryan opened his eyes and blinked. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“Monica drove my Mustang like she was born for it. As a matter of fact, she didn’t drive, she flew.”

Ryan’s cheeks became parchment white, and dots of sweat beaded his forehead. From pain or anger, Cal couldn’t decide. “I don’t believe you. Monica doesn’t drive fast. She’s never even had a speeding ticket.”

“How long did you date her, if you don’t mind my asking? Because honestly, you don’t seem to know her that well.”

“We dated for over a year, and I know her very well. If I have my way, Monica Campbell’s going to marry me.”

Cal’s heartbeat hammered in his ears. Monica marry this twat? He forced out a laugh and kept his tone nonchalant. “That might be a little difficult, considering you two aren’t dating anymore.” He was beginning to dislike this bloke more and more with each passing moment. That small bit of jealousy soon became a fat green monster, sinking its talons even deeper into Cal’s chest.

“I don’t think so. Monica’s afraid of a lot. Commitment, marriage, letting her family down. But I’m not going anywhere. Know that, Cal.”

Ryan had one thing right—Monica was very much afraid. But she was afraid of letting go, of being herself, of fucking up. Breaking up with Ryan was the smartest thing Monica had ever done. “Not that my opinion matters, but I don’t think you’re good for her.”

“What are you talking about? We’re meant for each other. And if she doesn’t care about me, why did she come to the hospital?”

“Guilt,” Cal said with a shrug. “Monica’s a kind person. And you’re a bit of a manipulative bastard, using your leg to try and win her back.”

Ryan shifted his ass and winced in pain. “I’m not using it to win her back. Eventually, she’ll see I’m the right choice. She’s dated guys like you in the past. Guys who don’t stick around, guys who break her heart. She might have a fling with you—yeah, I saw her bra on the floorboard of the backseat—but she’ll come back to me.”

He sounded so sure that Cal almost doubted himself. Ryan’s words had a ring of truth to them. A strong emotion bubbled up inside of him. Cal didn’t know what it was, but it made him uncomfortable.

Cal wouldn’t be around for long, so her choices shouldn’t matter to him. But they did. Very much. He’d thought about Monica Campbell over the last five years, and now that he’d seen her speeding down the highway with her hair flying free, had experienced firsthand her demanding, heated sexuality, he couldn’t let her reunite with this wet bloke.