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  Her mouth had fallen open. She’d had no idea. The only thing she could think was that it’d been so cold in her apartment, he’d never taken off his shirt all the way. She was still standing there dazed by the sight of him when he took her down, flattening her to the mat.

  Lying on top of her, he smiled. “You were saying?”

  “Hey,” she said, more breathless than she wanted to admit. “I wasn’t ready. You distracted me. On purpose.”

  He pushed himself upright, giving her a hand to pull her up as well. “With what?” he asked innocently, knowing damn well it was his tattoos, and more than the Ninja Turtle digression. The one on his hip . . . she wanted to lick it. She wanted to lick him. Except he was looking quite pleased with himself.

  “I didn’t see them the other night and you know it,” she said.

  He just smiled. So he wanted to play it like that. Okay then. And knowing she could give as good as she got, she let her expression go a little sultry as she smiled and turned away, walking slowly to the edge of the ring, wrapping her fingers around the ropes, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she smiled back at him. “You really do have a nice setup here.”

  Coming up behind her, he set his hands over hers on the ropes and lowered his head so that he could brush his mouth along the side of her throat. She let out a pleased hum and shifted her body against his.

  His breathing changed and that’s when she struck, wrapping a foot around the back of his knee, causing it to buckle. Using her weight as momentum, she took him down to the mat, rolling over so that they were chest-to-chest.

  “I wasn’t ready,” he said, mirroring her words back at her. His hands slid down her back to her butt, which he squeezed. “You have a great ass.”

  “So do you,” she said. “Which you already know.”

  He rolled them so that she was once again pinned. Cupping her face, he dipped his head and she arched up, thinking he was going to kiss her. Instead, he pulled back slightly and met her gaze. “Do you have something you want to say to me?”

  “Hmm.” She wriggled. “Whatever’s in your pocket is poking me.”

  His eyes darkened with both heat and a challenge that had her brain going from amused to aroused beyond belief in a single heartbeat.

  They both knew there was nothing in his pocket. Nothing but Caleb. Her hands came up to his biceps, her fingers digging in as desire and a hunger for him flooded her. Wrapping herself around him, she sighed in pleasure because he was big and heated and felt amazing, and she wanted—

  An alarm beeped near the front of the gym and then the door opened.

  Sadie froze.

  Not Caleb. He kissed the tip of her nose and then rose smoothly to his feet, pulling her up beside him. “The cleaning crew,” he said.

  The guy who walked in was small, wiry, and pushing a cart filled with cleaning supplies. “Hey, bossman!” he called out and then stopped at the sight of Sadie. “Whoops. Need a moment?”

  Caleb’s lips curved and Sadie met his knowing gaze. They were going to need more than a minute.

  “You’re fine, Ken,” Caleb said.

  Ken nodded and stayed in the entryway, bent over his cart, going through the supplies, looking like he planned to start at the reception desk.

  Sadie was distracted by the Japanese character on the back of Caleb’s left shoulder, just beneath a stunning living tree, and she ran a finger over the ink. “Wow. That’s so sweet.”

  “What?”

  “You’ve got mom tattooed here.”

  He craned his neck to eyeball his skin. “That’s not mom.”

  “Yes, it is,” she said. “I know because Mini Moe recently did this same character on a client.”

  Caleb turned to Ken, who was pulling on a utility belt loaded with spray bottles and other assorted cleaning equipment. He had jet-black hair spiked straight up and was wearing little round John Lennon glasses. “What does this say?” Caleb asked him, pointing to the tat.

  “What, you think just because I’m Asian, I’ll know?” Ken asked.

  Caleb blew out a breath. “Shit. No. Sorry—”

  Ken laughed. “Just kidding ya, bossman. I know what it is because you’re putting me through that fancy-ass master degree in Japanese history and culture. It says mom.”

  “Sonofabitch.” Caleb shook his head. “He told me it meant life.”

  “Who?” Sadie asked.

  Caleb took her hand, looking both touched and amused, and also like maybe he couldn’t decide on which one to feel. “Time for stop two of our date.”

  Chapter 19

  #JudgyJudgerson

  Sadie walked with Caleb up the front walk of a Victorian building. He’d driven them here and parked in a spot in the alley that she could never have maneuvered into, but he’d managed like a pro.

  They’d both changed out of their workout clothes. She was back in her dress and Caleb was—shockingly—in jeans and a white button-down, looking good enough to eat.

  “You’re still staring,” he murmured on the porch of the large house.

  “You’re in jeans.”

  “You’ve said that like ten times on the ride here.”

  “Yes,” she said, “but . . . you’re in jeans.”

  He gave a slight head shake. “I’m never going to live this down, am I?”

  “No. Jeans, Caleb,” she teased. “Are we slumming?”

  “Don’t judge me by my clothes,” he said mildly and entering a passcode, opened the front door and held it open for her to enter first.

  She eyed the small discreet brass plaque that read Caramel Care Village. Stepping inside, she took in the warm cozy vibe of the place, and the fact that there were two older men and one woman, all in wheelchairs, scattered around the room. It was an assisted-living facility, she realized. A top-notch one by the looks of it.

  Caleb smiled at the nurse behind the front desk. “Hey, Dee, how’s he doing today?”

  “He’s been watching the Rocky DVDs you brought last week.” She smiled. “You always know just how to bring him back to us.”

  Caleb signed in for both himself and Sadie. “There are two of us today.”

  “No problem,” Dee said. “Head on back. He’s having his evening tea.”

  Caleb took Sadie’s hand. “Fair warning,” he said quietly. “He’s either going to be happy to see me or pissed off. It can go either way on any given day.”

  Before she could ask any of the million questions on the tip of her tongue, Caleb opened the door to one of the rooms off the hallway. An older Asian man sat at a table in front of a wide picture window, a throw over his lap and legs, staring pensively out the glass.

  At their entry, he turned to them and narrowed his eyes. “Who are you?”

  Caleb smiled. “I’m Caleb, and this is my friend Sadie.”

  The man’s fierce expression didn’t change, nor did his black eyes soften. “I don’t know you.” He paused. “Do I?”

  Caleb’s smile didn’t so much as slip, but to Sadie the smile seemed almost unbearably sad. “Yes, Naoki, you know me.” And then he reached up and began to unbutton his shirt.

  Naoki stared as Caleb shrugged out of his shirt and did a slow circle in front of the old man, whose sharp gaze was taking in the tattoos.

  Sadie’s gaze did the same and she felt her breath hitch at the sight of Caleb’s broad shoulders and sleek, sinewy back. Then as he finished turning, her eyes were drawn to his chest and the defined cut of his abs, and how his jeans sat dangerously low on his lean hips, lovingly cupping all his good parts. She bit her lower lip because she wanted to nibble her way from his Adam’s apple to his belt buckle and beyond.

  Naoki finished scanning Caleb’s tattoos and met his gaze.

  Caleb stood there, calm, quiet, definitely searching for something in the man’s eyes. She knew that sometimes tattoos could trigger memories and she hoped that whatever Caleb was looking for, he found it.

  “Who are you?” Naoki asked again.

  Caleb