Maybe he didn't want to admit it, but he'd done exactly that. Perhaps he hadn't said a lot to Mac--he probably didn't feel it was his place to go too far--but he'd definitely taken steps to alleviate his sister's suffering.

"I think it's big of you to baby-sit the boys this next weekend," she added, infusing her voice with a little arrogance.

"And I think it's big of you to help me," he retorted. "Because if I get stranded at my sister's house for the weekend, that's exactly where you'll be."

"Sorry, I'll have Brianna," she said breezily.

"I'm afraid that's not good enough. We can baby-sit together."

She considered him for several seconds, going through her options, then gave in. She didn't mind. As a matter of fact, she was looking forward to it. "Fine. Brianna will probably be so smitten with those boys she'll follow them around like a puppy."

"Her company will be good for them. The way they talk, you'd think girls were an alien species."

"You probably weren't like that," she joked.

"Maybe just a little," he admitted, but then his eyes took on a devilish light. "I don't think girls have cooties anymore, though."

Madison felt the heightened awareness that seemed to wash over at Caleb's slightest provocation. She wished he'd hold her hand. She was dying to touch him--anywhere. But he didn't, and it took her a full five minutes to gather enough nerve to make the first move. Clearing her throat to distract him, she slid closer and rested her hand on his thigh.

She was hoping he'd let her actions go unremarked, or simply respond by taking her hand. But she should have known he wasn't going to make anything easy on her. Arching a brow, he gazed down at his thigh, and her hand suddenly felt like a foreign object. "What's this?" he said.

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"What's what?" she replied, groaning inside and feeling her face grow warm.

"Tell me what's going on."

She pulled her hand away. "Nothing's going on." Except an absolute fascination with him.

He chuckled softly. "You're not very good at hiding your emotions, you know that?"

"You're pretty good at it," she complained. "I think it must be a guy thing."

"Wait a second," he countered. "I'm not trying to hide anything." He made a point of reaching for her hand and tightly entwining their fingers, which satisfied her enough to make her feel significantly better. "I've made it perfectly clear what I want."

She batted her eyelashes at him. "A dozen babies? If that isn't enough to scare a woman, I don't know what is."

"How would you feel about one or two babies?" he asked.

"One or two doesn't scare me," she admitted. The prospect of having his baby excited her. Which was absolutely crazy. She'd known him only a few weeks, and already she was tempted to forget life's harder lessons.

"So what about it?" he asked, kissing her hand.

"What about what?" she responded, stalling, absolutely riveted to the sensation of his lips brushing across her knuckles.

"Will you come home with me tonight?"

No! Yes! Should she go with what she'd learned...or what she wanted?

"Well?"

The moment of truth. As she met his gaze, her entire body began to yearn. "Okay."

MADISON'S ANSWER STOLE Caleb's breath. He'd been half teasing, still expecting her to dodge him. But if he could trust the commitment in her eyes, she was serious.

Evidently he was getting a little ahead of himself. Rubbing the back of her hand against his cheek, he wondered how and when he was going to break the news of who he really was. Considering how quickly things were progressing, he needed to do it soon.

Just tell me you haven't slept with her.

Madison settled closer to him, despite the bucket seats, and laid her head on his shoulder. She was so near, so pliable and willing...And he wanted her.

If he didn't tell her, it might make everything worse later on.

If he did tell her, she might never speak to him again.

He drove for nearly twenty minutes, wrestling with himself. "Madison?" he finally said when they were nearly home.

"Hmm?"

She was half asleep, smelling like heaven and feeling like a dream come true. "Have you ever heard of Thomas L. Wagner?"

With a yawn, she sat up straight and combed her fingers through her hair. "That's the name of that crime-writer guy, isn't it?"

"He's written a few books. The one about Dahmer was probably his best." Caleb glanced at her to ascertain her reaction, and found her frowning.

"I've heard of him," she said, her voice completely flat.

"Have you ever read one of his books?"

"No, but I'll never forget him. He's slime."

Slime? "He's not that bad, is he?"

"Are you kidding? He's like a vulture, swooping in after a catastrophe to pick the bones of any survivors. He gets rich off other people's pain."

He could see he'd definitely made a positive impression. "He just writes true-crime books. Some people like them. It gets the truth out in the open and sheds some light on the criminal mind."

"I guess," she said in a way that indicated she didn't agree but was playing neutral. "What about him?"

Caleb wasn't sure where to go next. I'm that vulture? "I heard he was doing a book about your father."

She shook her head. "He tried, but when the police were never able to solve the case, I think he dropped it. Thank goodness."

"Would a book about your father be so bad? Even if Wagner doesn't write one, someone else might someday."

"Maybe--or maybe not," she said. "In any case, I can wait. Fortunately, Wagner stopped contacting me. I think he moved out of the area."

"How do you know?"

"I happened to be standing in line at a little bookstore downtown when the guy in front of me was buying one of his books. I heard the cashier say Wagner is no longer local. He was lamenting the fact, of course. But I say good riddance."

"Right." Caleb cracked open his window because it was suddenly getting a little stuffy. Good riddance was the last thing he wanted her to say. Especially tonight. Which was why he decided that the truth could wait until morning.

"SOMETHING'S WRONG." Madison leaned forward as Caleb pulled into the drive. She was trying to figure out what it was about her house that seemed so...out of place. But a thick fog had descended just after they crossed Deception Pass, and it was so heavy she could barely make out the shape of the house, let alone any details.