Page 57 of The Way Home

Caleb took a deep breath and slowly let it out. “It doesn’t matter what you’ve liked before. Take your time and get what you want.”

The stress in Jamie’s forehead smoothed out, and he looked back down at his menu. “I think I want the pumpkin, ricotta, and sage ravioli.”

“Lovely,” Caleb said as he waved over their server.

“What can I get you?” she asked dryly.

Jamie lifted his chin and ordered.

“And you, sir?”

Without even cracking his own menu, Caleb flashed a smile and said, “I’ll have the same.”

“You’re not goingto look at the menu?” Jamie asked as their server flitted into the kitchen equipped with their orders.

“Don’t need to,” Caleb said coolly, sipping his drink. Something in Jamie’s stomach did a little flutter watching Caleb’s throat bobbed as he swallowed. This whole time Jamie had been studying the menu, Caleb’s attention was laser-focused on him.

Why did it make Jamie randy as hell?

To be fair, many things about Caleb made him randy, more than just his choice to order ravioli. For one, Caleb looked fit as hell in his button-down shirt that was just a touch too snug—to professional tailoring standards, at least. He had the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, showing off the muscles in his forearms.

Caleb was effortlessly gorgeous. The man had taken less thanten minutes to get ready for dinner and looked likethat.Jamie had agonized over his hair and suit for… Christ, over an hour?

The dim lighting made Caleb look dark and mysterious, straight out of a James Bond movie, and the way he always knew exactly what to say and do to keep Jamie’s anxiety at bay was… well, Jamie’s heart was doing a lot of weird, unfamiliar things in his chest.

Also, Caleb choosing to eat vegetarian? Why wasthatso hot? He also had a sneaking suspicion that Caleb had something to do with these lilies…

“Y’alright there, J?” Caleb asked with a cheeky grin, like he knewexactlywhat he was doing to Jamie’s brain.

Realizing his mouth was hanging open, Jamie snapped it shut. “Yes, great. Lovely.” He quickly, and somewhat awkwardly, tried to make pleasant conversation. “So, um, how was the game?”

“Chelsea lost. The girls were bummed, but I was proud of them.”

“They’re lucky to have you,” Jamie said, earning him a big smile from Caleb.

“Thanks.”

The atmosphere became light and airy, both of them letting down some guards, and Jamie felt his heart breathe a sigh of relief.

You can do this.

They talked about Caleb’s journey to becoming the Head Athletic Trainer for Chelsea, starting back during his time playing high school football, getting injured, and deciding to study exercise science. His transition to Ohio State and then, by pure luck, according to him (though Jamie didn’t buy it), getting picked up by the Premier League.

Caleb skillfully avoided talking about his family, and Jamie sensed some hurt there. He didn’t push.

“Apologies if any of this is repetitive,” Jamie said carefully. “I’m sure we’ve talked about most of this stuff, erm, before.”

“Jamie.”

He felt kind of dumb, knowing that he was making Caleb repeat so much to him—

“Jamie.”

He stopped poking his ravioli around on his plate and looked up. His chest squeezed tight, and he regretted saying anything at all.

“You are not a burden,” Caleb said seriously. “Do you understand? This right here,” he said as he pointed between the two of them, “isexactlywhere I want to be. If you have questions, ask them. If you get confused, I’ll help you.” His brown eyes became glossy in the candlelight as he stared at Jamie, as if bracing for him to have some big reaction to these words.

Not far off. Jamie was a bit of a mess on the inside. “Thank you,” he managed to get out. “Thank you so much.”