The 39-Year-Old Virgin Read online

  Claire recovered before he did. She watched him uncertainly. “Are you volunteering to become my handyman?”

  It was a teasing remark which she expected him to wholeheartedly deny. He was probably just saying that he’d fixed his own roof or something like that. No way was he saying what she thought he was saying.

  Or was he?

  Despite the fact that she’d left the order, she still believed that God watched over everyone, still believed in miracles. After all, she was hoping for one for her mother, wasn’t she?

  She saw Caleb shrug, as if it was no big deal. “Why not?” His hands still in his back pockets, he walked the front length of her house, carefully studying its condition. “I could fix your roof, replace some shingles, maybe give the place a face-lift with a new coat of paint.”

  He turned to look at her as if the ball was now in her court.

  “Are you waiting for me to say yes?” she asked incredulously.

  There wasn’t even a hint of a smile on his lips. “That would be the next step, yes.”

  She was touched by the offer. It proved to her that she was right about him. The warm, sweet boy she’d known was still inside the brooding man. But she also knew she had to turn him down. It wouldn’t be fair to take advantage of him.

  “Caleb, you have a job and a son. You don’t have time for this.”

  “Yes or no?”

  “Yes,” she said breathlessly.

  “Okay. Unless something comes up, I’m usually off on weekends. I’ll get started Saturday on the roof first, then we’ll see about the paint job.”

  He left her speechless. It took her a second to recover. “But I can’t pay you,” she protested.

  “Did I ask you for money?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, then.” Caleb rested his case. Turning on his heel, he started to walk back to his car. “Saturday,” he repeated.

  He was almost to the car when she called out, “Bring Danny.”

  That stopped him dead in his tracks. Certainly he’d misheard. “What?”

  She crossed to him. “Bring Danny. I don’t want him missing out being with his father because you’re helping me.”

  What was she thinking? “He’ll just get underfoot,” he told her. “And be bored.”

  “I seem to remember your father bragging about what a help you were—and you beaming in response.” She grinned fondly, remembering. “Sunniest smile I ever saw. I think Danny could use some of that kind of reinforcement.” She looked at him pointedly. “Don’t you?”

  He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied her for a long moment. Had he missed something? “How did this turn out to be about him?”

  “Because everything’s intertwined,” she told him cheerfully. “You know that.”

  No, he thought, he didn’t. Otherwise, why did he feel so adrift all the time?

  But out loud he muttered, “If you say so,” as he got back into his car.

  Served him right, he thought darkly as he started up his car. That old saying was absolutely true. No good deed ever went unpunished. He’d felt sorry for her, made an offer and somehow, he’d gotten roped into not only doing repairs—by his own volition—but into bringing Danny along, as well.

  Maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea after all, he decided, thinking it over. If he brought Danny along, he had a feeling that Claire would keep him company. And that would be good for the boy. Danny seemed happy when she was around and she was a hell of a lot better for his son than he was in his present condition.

  He glanced up into the rearview mirror and saw Claire still standing there, watching him go. Though he tried not to let it, the warm smile on her face remained with him all the way home.

  And even longer than that.

  “Your faucet could stand to be replaced,” Caleb said matter-of-factly.

  It was yet another Saturday and he was in her kitchen, getting himself a glass of water. In the last four weeks, he had begun to make himself at home here, not just at her behest—he figured she was just being polite—but as the work he did for her made him more and more familiar with the layout of the house.

  Caleb drained the glass. For October, it was damn dry. And hot. The sweat he’d worked up was now sticking to every part of him. He needn’t have hurried with the repairs on the roof. All indications pointed to it being another dry winter.

  Claire took the glass from him and filled it. She could have used some water herself, she realized because, at the moment, she was trying not to notice how the sweat had his T-shirt adhering to every ridge on his body.

  Not noticing wasn’t going very well.

  She found herself really looking forward to weekends. So much so that she took more care in dressing on Saturdays and the occasional Sundays than she did the rest of the week. The rest of the week didn’t have her debating over which tiny, flirty bras and panties to wear. She’d finally dipped into the cache of undergarments that Nancy had gotten for her. Just having them against her skin made her feel more feminine. Made her feel prettier.

  The first time she put them on, she silently upbraided herself for acting so adolescent. After all, it wasn’t as if he was going to actually see any of this attire. But now, she looked forward to the selection process, to feeling like a woman. “Sister Michael” was becoming more and more of a distant memory.

  When she offered the refilled glass back to him, he shook his head. Then, to her utter surprise, Caleb stripped his T-shirt off and shoved as much of it as he could into his back pocket. It hung there, trailing down like an oversize grey bandanna.

  Claire forced herself to tear her eyes away and look at the sink, with its hairline crack running through the length of it. Another thing that could stand replacing.

  Her throat was suddenly incredibly dry and her heart skipped beats.

  “Are you moonlighting as a salesperson at the Home Emporium?” she managed to get out, silently congratulating herself on not losing her ability to speak.

  “Just stating facts,” he replied. He moved closer to her, bringing a wave of heat along with him that he seemed to be oblivious to. But she wasn’t. “Your sink could stand to be replaced, too, but you probably already know that.”

  Take a deep breath. This is Caleb. Caleb, the little boy you babysat. Try to remember that. Yeah, right. Caleb, the little boy whose anticipated appearance makes you put on sexy underwear.

  Get a grip, she ordered herself.

  Easier said than done.

  She cleared her throat. It just felt dryer, as if she’d just ingested a mouthful of sawdust.

  “Most of this house could stand to be replaced,” she finally managed to say. She shrugged, focusing on the topic and not his biceps. He’d been such a skinny little kid, how had all this happened? “Dad died and then I left home. Mom went to work to pay the bills and keep herself busy.” She looked around the kitchen. Nothing had been done to it for as far back as she could remember. “She didn’t much notice anything at home, I guess. As long as the house was standing and it was neat inside, well, that was okay with her.”

  She sighed, remembering the last visit to her mother’s doctor. How she’d held her mother’s hand during the chemo treatment, her own heart breaking. From the bottom of her soul, she wished she could take this disease on in her mother’s place.

  “And now there are more important things for her to concern herself about,” she concluded.

  Caleb turned away from the sink. He looked at her for a long moment. “You mean the leukemia.”

  Claire inclined her head. “That, and the fact that my mother firmly believes that she’s guilty of causing my divorce.” She raised her eyes to his. “She thinks that God is going to punish her for that.”

  “Divorce?” he repeated. Had he missed something? “I thought you were—” He paused for a moment, trying to remember the phrase she’d used. “A Dominican Sister.”

  “I was,” she told him. “That made me a ‘bride of Jesus.’ My mother thinks that the only r
eason I left the order was to be close to her in case she needed me. In her mind, that makes her guilty of being instrumental in bringing about my ‘divorce.’”

  He knew he should be getting back to work. But the more Claire talked, the more she drew him in. He couldn’t make himself just ignore her and walk away. Besides, he was curious about something. Maybe it was a good sign.

  And then again, maybe not.

  “I thought that was why you left the order, to take care of your mother.”

  She shook her head. “No, that was just the catalyst that finally pushed me to do something. Truthfully, I’d been at a crossroads for a while before that.” She saw no point in telling him about the children and the plague that had senselessly taken them away. He obviously had little faith to spare; sharing something that might just strip him of it entirely wouldn’t be right. “I joined the order because it felt right. I left when it stopped feeling that way.”

  He supposed that made sense. As much sense as anything else. Caleb realized that he was staring at the way the sun seemed to be frosting strands of her hair, giving them golden highlights. He pulled himself back, silently upbraiding himself.

  “And does it feel right now? Your being a teacher?” he added when she didn’t answer him right away.

  The smile that curved her mouth was slightly embarrassed, as if he’d asked something she wasn’t prepared to answer yet.

  “I’m still ‘feeling’ my way around,” she admitted, the dimple in her cheek deepening as she emphasized the play on words.

  In the distant background, he heard his son laughing. When they’d first started coming over, Claire had put Danny together with her mother, a match he wouldn’t have attempted. But somehow, it was working. At least for Danny. The boy seemed happier lately, more like his old self. He was grateful to Claire for that. Grateful that someone could be there for his son while he was still wrestling with his demons.

  “Well, I think you made the right choice,” he said, straightening and moving away from the sink.

  There it was again, that skipped beat. What was wrong with her?

  “You’re all Danny talks about,” he continued, “and you’re not even his teacher.”

  There’d definitely been a change in the boy. And, now that he thought about it, maybe there had been one in him, as well, however small. It had begun taking root four weeks ago, when he’d started coming by on his days off to work around her house. He’d meant to do only one thing, maybe two. But undertaking repairs here was a little like opening Pandora’s box. It seemed for every repair he completed, two more would suddenly materialize. From where he stood, it was close to a never-ending chore. The house had been neglected for close to twenty-five years. That added up to a hell of a lot of repairs.

  She wasn’t about to take all the credit. Just as her mother’s condition had been the catalyst to her finally taking action, her subtly maneuvering Danny had caused something else. She smiled at Caleb. Deep down, she’d known he would be a good father. A good man.

  “Danny just needed some attention. From you,” she underscored. “Your bringing him along to help has made a world of difference to him.” She glanced toward the family room, where her mother and Danny currently were. The boy was teaching her mother how to play a video game. “Not to mention to my mother.”

  She owed him for that, Claire thought. Having Danny around had done far more for her mother than having her own daughter home. It was working out just as she’d hoped. Danny’s budding, youthful enthusiasm had slowly gotten her mother to start looking forward to something again rather than morosely dwelling in the past, feeling as if the best of everything was now over.

  “Well, you’re the one who got me to bring him,” he reminded her. “Until you insisted, I was going to leave him with Mrs. Collins.”

  “I didn’t insist,” she corrected amiably, “I ‘suggested.’”

  He gave her a look that all but pinned her to the wall. “You insisted.”

  She lifted a shoulder, letting it fall again. “This arrangement is better for everyone all around,” she concluded.

  Claire pressed her lips together. Her throat was still very dry and she was running out of places to look. Especially since she wasn’t nearly as good at avoiding temptation as she used to be. Try as she might not to, her eyes kept straying back to his very bare, very sensual upper torso. Sweat had actually added a sheen to his body and the work he was doing had pumped up the muscles on his already toned arms and chest.

  A person, even an ex-sister, could not look at that for long without having parts of her own body begin to dissolve.

  She addressed her words to the air just right of his shoulder. “My mother still has some of my dad’s things stored in the garage. Could I get you one of his shirts?”

  Bemused, Caleb glanced down at his chest, then back up at her. This was the way he always wound up when he was tackling a project. “Why?”

  “No reason.” Her voice sounded a little high. It struck her that that was probably the first lie she’d uttered since she couldn’t remember when. “I just thought, since yours is wet, that you might just want to put on a dry one.”

  He saw no reason for her to go digging through some old, dusty box in the garage on his account. “No, this is okay.”

  Claire tried again. “Um, you’ll probably get sunburned,” she pointed out. “The sun’s getting pretty hot out there.”

  “I know. That’s why I was sweating.” He watched her, mildly amused. And then it dawned on him. Claire was trying very hard not to look at any region below his eyes. “Does my not wearing a shirt make you uncomfortable?”

  She was about to deny it, but that would have been another lie. Two in the space of a couple of minutes was too much. One lie was bad enough.

  “Oh God, yes.”

  The sensual rating, if there was such a thing, for the smile that slowly unfurled on his lips soared clear off the charts. Her pulse hammered all along her body as her breath moved like a slow, hot breeze through her lungs.

  “Why, Sister Michael—” Caleb lowered his voice “—are you having impure thoughts?”

  She said nothing. Instead, she began to turn away. While she still could. Because she suddenly had the most unruly urge to throw her arms around his neck and kiss Caleb.

  “It’s okay, you know,” he called after her. “To have impure thoughts,” he added in case she missed his point. “Because now that I mention it, I’m having them, too.”

  Chapter Ten

  Claire stopped dead and then very slowly turned around to see if Caleb was just kidding or having fun at her expense.

  But he wasn’t.

  Caleb seemed deadly serious, as if he actually meant what he said. Was he having impure thoughts about her? But how could he? He had to be joking. It would have been out of character for the man she’d come to know.

  Wouldn’t it have?

  “I’m older than you are,” she reminded him.

  He eyed her incredulously, as if he couldn’t believe that she’d actually said that.

  “Hardly. When I was one and you were six, you were older. But now…” His voice drifted off as he shrugged carelessly.

  Maybe the years meant nothing to him, but they did to her. She didn’t feel old, but she did feel older than him. A lot older, even though, when it came to experience, she was a babe in the woods.

  “But now I’m still five years older,” she said pointedly.

  He laughed shortly, shaking his head. “Doesn’t mean anything anymore,” he told her with the same careless attitude.

  Caleb left her standing there as he went back to what he was doing. Strange sensations and longings moved through her, all of which were light-years away from what she was accustomed to feeling.

  This was a whole new, exciting world for her. One she felt ill-equipped to face.

  As a Dominican Sister, she’d always been very liberal in her thinking, in her attitude about people’s behavior. She didn’t believe in condemning pe
ople for acting on their feelings as long as love was involved rather than simply lust. But now that she was no longer part of the order, that sort of liberal thinking had suddenly deserted her.

  At least as far as her own behavior was concerned.

  There was no denying that being around Caleb stirred things up within her.

  These unfamiliar feelings refused to go away and interfered with her work and her thought process. She had to get a grip.

  She’d thought that once she left the order, things would be clearer for her. Instead, she became more and more confused.

  And she had no idea where to turn for help. She couldn’t turn to a priest because she’d supposedly turned her back on the lot of them. And conversations with God tended to be one-sided and not very conducive to problem-solving. Praying had not led to enlightenment.

  If she talked to Nancy or Kelly, they’d cheer her on and take it as an invitation to start setting her up with any and every single male friend with a pulse. She didn’t want that. And what she did want, she wasn’t going to allow herself to want, she silently vowed.

  The key to all this, Claire reasoned, was control. She was no stranger to that. Control had been at the heart of her last vocation. So she locked away her budding emotions as best she could and concentrated strictly on being there for her mother—making a point of getting her out of the house at least once a week—and being involved with her students.

  But all the while, she found herself struggling to block out thoughts of a sweaty, gleaming torso and the man whose kiss had shaken up all her boundaries.

  Doing so posed enough of a challenge when Caleb wasn’t around. But when he was right there, working on yet another badly needed repair, it was next to impossible not to let her mind drift, nudging forth desires that had absolutely no place in her life to begin with, let alone centered around Caleb. She couldn’t very well ignore him after he’d gone out of his way like this and literally come to her rescue time and again.

  However, not to ignore him meant setting herself up for what amounted to slow torture.