The Seasons of Callan Reed: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance

by S. M. Soto

  She isn’t my child.

  Daisy isn’t mine to keep.

  She chose someone else.

  I need to remember that.

  My grip tightens on the steering wheel. Tension slithers through my body in waves. If Stephan was driving us, he could’ve been a buffer of sorts, but since it’s just the three of us, the tension is impossibly thick. I prefer not to drive around the city on my own, but for family dinners, I give Stephan a break and drive myself.

  Most of the drive to my parents’ house has been ridden in silence. Faith is asleep, and Daisy hasn’t said a word, but I can tell she’s uncomfortable because she keeps fidgeting, the leather squeaking beneath her with each movement.

  Heaving a deep sigh, I shoot her a sidelong glance.

  “Stop fidgeting.”

  “I’m sorry,” she huffs. “It’s just…this is kinda weird, right?”

  “What is?”

  “This!” she snaps. “Dinner with your parents while, you know, we’re…”

  My lips inch up at the edges.

  “We’re fucking?”

  “God, you’re so crude sometimes.”

  “You don’t seem to mind when I’m—”

  She cuts me off. “I just mean I don’t want things to be awkward like the last dinner, and I certainly don’t want everyone to know what we’re up to. Hell, I’m sure they already think we’re living together as one happy family. I need to retain at least an ounce of dignity.”

  “I assured them we are indeed not.”

  I can’t see her face, but her silence is telling enough. That was obviously the wrong comment to make. A better man would apologize, tell her that’s not entirely what I meant, but I’m not a better man. I’m the vile bastard she’s always believed me to be. There’s no point in changing her mind now. I don’t want to change her mind.

  When we get to my parents’ brownstone, I help Daisy with Faith, grabbing her car seat and her bag. I expect to be greeted with everyone upon walking in, but the brownstone is empty, except for my father.

  My brows pull in. “Where is everyone?”

  My dad slips into his jacket near the front door, his gaze pinging between Daisy and me. “Your mother is picking up takeout because she doesn’t listen. I told her I would order in for us, but no, she just had to go out and handle it on her own. Your sister and Damon got caught up at work, but they’re on their way. Now, I have to pick up your mother, because as I mentioned, she’s a pain in the ass and doesn’t listen. She forgot her wallet in our bedroom. Great place for it, don’t you think? I’ll be back in a few. Make yourself comfortable, Daisy.” He shoots her a smile, pulling her into a brief hug before slipping out.

  Once he’s gone, Daisy and I share a look. An awkward silence arises between us.

  Fucking great.

  As if Faith doesn’t approve of the tense silence, she starts to cry. The sound of it has me clenching my jaw. Not because I hate the sound, but because it makes me tense. I’m not built to take care of a child. I don’t know the first thing about paternal instincts. I have no clue how to calm a baby or get it to stop crying, so it’s best I keep my distance. Much like I have been doing. Or trying to do.

  The tension in my shoulders only worsens as I try to make myself busy on my phone in the living room, but out of the corner of my eye, I can clearly see Daisy struggling to calm Faith down.

  Five minutes pass.

  Ten minutes pass.

  Once it gets to fifteen, I toss my phone onto the couch and push to my feet. “Christ. Why don’t you make her a bottle or something? I’ll…I’ll hold her, or I don’t know, try to make her stop crying.”

  Daisy hesitates, watching me with a curious expression. Slowly, she quirks a brow, a small smile turning up her lips. “Make her stop crying? You really don’t have a clue, do you?”

  My lips twitch. “None.”

  “Okay, fine, here. I’ll be back in a sec, I promise.”

  When she sets Faith into my arms, my body goes rigid. I’ve held her before, so this isn’t new, but even then, it was odd. I damn near held my breath the whole time, trying to make sure I didn’t drop her or break her. I tighten my arms around Faith, trying to come up with a plan of action to get her to stop crying. Other than milk, I don’t know what else babies like.

  Daisy runs off to the kitchen, taking Faith’s diaper bag with her, leaving the child and me. Against my better judgment, I stare down at her. Her little cheeks are red and splotchy, face screwed up in frustration.

  “Shit, kid. You’re gonna give yourself a heart attack.”

  I don’t know if it’s my voice, the curse word, or the fact that my words are directed at her, but Faith suddenly quiets in my arms. She blinks her little eyes up at me, and something happens at that moment. It’s an awareness I try to push away to the back of my mind. It’s a warmth that filters through my chest. It’s uncomfortable.

  I don’t know how much time passes as I stare down at her and her up at me, but I startle when I hear Daisy’s awed voice.

  “How do you keep doing that?” she whispers, eyes wide as she takes in the two of us.

  I shrug, clearing my throat. “It’s nothing.”

  Daisy rolls her eyes, reaching for Faith. “That is not nothing, Callan. You’re the goddamn baby whisperer.”

  I roll my eyes at her dramatics.

  She gets comfortable on the couch and begins feeding Faith. I watch them both, listening to Faith slurp down her milk as if she’s been starving for days. The kid hasn’t. I swear, every time I see her, she’s either eating or shitting.

  “How old is she?”

  Daisy glances up. “Almost six months now.”

  “When does she, you know, start walking around?”

  She laughs, staring up at me warmly. “Not for a while, I don’t think. The baby books say around eight to fifteen months, but some moms in the mommy forum are overachievers that brag, saying their children have taken their first steps as early as six months, so who really knows.”

  I frown. “Is she… I mean, healthy?”

  “Her pediatrician seems to think so.”

  I make a mental note to check on that, see if Faith is, indeed, on the right path with her health. As I’m scrolling through emails, it takes me a second to grasp why that’s such a big deal to me. Why do I suddenly care enough to pick up a book about childcare?

  “Do you plan on standing there all day hovering or…?”

  I roll my eyes at Daisy, taking a seat on the open chaise across from her. “Don’t get mouthy, Ms. Casillas.”

  Her brow quirks as a smile spreads across her beautiful face. “Back to Ms. Casillas, are we?”

  “Feed the child, would you?”

  She laughs. “The child? What era are you living in, Callan? She has a name.”

  “Fine. Feed Faith and shut up. I have work to catch up on.”

  “Of course, you do,” she mumbles but does as I say.

  I can feel her gaze on me as I work through emails. The truth is, I find it difficult to focus whenever I’m near her. Lately, I’ve had this incessant need to touch her. To feel her skin beneath mine, even if it doesn’t lead to sex.

  “Can I ask you something?”

  I blow out a sigh at her tone. Chances are, I’m not going to like this question. “What is it?”

  “Why didn’t you come to my mother’s funeral?”

  I tense, my body going rigid at the question. I wasn’t expecting this. Hell, I wasn’t even prepared for it.

  I can hear the sadness in her voice, and I know I should lie, but when I glance up and take in her expression, I can’t. She searches my gaze, waiting for me to answer.

  “I did go.”

  Confusion passes over her features. “No, you didn’t. I would’ve seen you. I looked for you, Callan.”

  My nostrils flare. Pain blooms in my chest, and just like I always do, I tamp it down. I lock it away. “Why look for me at all?”

  Her eyes grow pained. I can read the words
she wants to say. They’re written all over her face.

  You know why.

  Instead, she goes with, “Because at one point, you were my best friend, too, and my mother loved you.”

  “I know she did.”

  Her face sours. “Then why didn’t you come?”

  “I told you, I did go. After what happened between us, everyone thought it best I keep my distance. And that’s what I did. I let you grieve on your husband’s shoulder, just like you were supposed to. I sat in the back of the church with Mr. Valentine from down the block. I hung out in the back of the crowd during the burial service. You may not have seen me, but I was there.”

  Her eyes swim with tears. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t anyone tell me this?”

  “Because this was the way I wanted it. I didn’t go for you. I went for your mother.”

  Pain flashes across her face, and I’m unable to stare at her any longer.

  Minutes doused in a heavy silence pass. It doesn’t sit well with me.

  Heaving a deep sigh, I rub at the back of my neck in frustrated motions.

  “I didn’t just go for your mother. I went for you, too. I needed to see with my own eyes that you’d be okay. And you were. You were going to be okay, and that was all that mattered.”

  “Callan,” she whispers, voice trembling. It causes a heavy weight to rest over my sternum. I’m pushing up from the chaise when the front door opens and in steps my whole family.

  “My babies are here!” my mother croons excitedly, shouldering past everyone. Not to anyone’s surprise, she heads straight for Faith and Daisy. I roll my eyes. My father chuckles, clapping me on the back.

  “Easy, son.”

  Dinner seems to flow a lot smoother this time around. Maybe it’s the fact that I’m somewhat used to being near Daisy again, or maybe it’s the child. She’s been quiet. Her curious little eyes take everyone in. Unlike last time, she’s not screaming her little head off.

  And each time she looks at me, I find that warmth spilling into my chest. It ebbs and flows. It feels like heartburn, and maybe if I just bang on my chest hard enough, it’ll go away. Her little eyes follow my every movement, and when I’m sure no one’s looking, I crack a funny face at her. She makes the cutest sound, and a smile suddenly spreads across her face.

  It causes my heart to beat faster and slower at the same time.

  I force my gaze elsewhere, thoroughly unsettled. When my gaze clashes with my mother’s, and I see that softness lingering in her eyes, I realize she saw it, too. This will bring on questions I don’t need. A whole slew of inquiries I want no part of.

  Avoiding her gaze, I tune back into the conversation and jolt when I listen to my sister. My muscles tense. My hand curls into a fist beneath the table.

  “I know you said you weren’t interested, but…” She pauses for dramatic effect. “I did it anyway! You have a blind date this weekend!”

  The table goes silent.

  I share a look with her fiancé, Damon, and he has the decency to look beyond tired of his soon-to-be wife’s shit, too.

  My sister never knows when to mind her own fucking business.

  “What?” Daisy chokes on a mouthful of food.

  “He’s great, I promise. You two are going to hit it off so well, I just know it.”

  “Rosalind,” Daisy warns, glancing around the table, her gaze pausing on me for a few seconds. “I told you I can’t date right now.”

  “And just like I told you, you need to get out there. You’re young and beautiful, and you have everything to offer the world.”

  “I also have a job and a child I’m trying to raise.”

  She waves her off. “Potato, tomato.”

  There’s a sudden inexplicable tension hovering around the table. That easygoing conversation? It’s long gone.

  Why my sister thought it would be a good idea to bring this up now is beyond me.

  I can’t even fathom why I care.

  Why does the thought of Daisy going out on a blind date make me so angry? I’m the one who is fucking her at night. She’s a sure thing, but, Christ, the idea that she might share that with someone else drives me crazy. It feels like our past is repeating itself.

  I told myself we were just sleeping together and letting off years of sexual tension, but obviously, I’m lying to myself, especially if news of her dating pisses me off to this extent. As if sensing that I’m on the edge of strangling my sister, my father steps in, clearing his throat, trying to wade through the awkward air.

  “Not exactly appropriate for dinner, Rose,” he scolds.

  Rosalind rolls her eyes. “Why not? There’s no one special here.”

  I shoot her a glare. She meets it head-on.

  I squeeze my fist beneath the table. “There something you want to get off your chest, Rosalind?”

  She smiles smarmily. “Why would I? Did I say something to upset you, Cal?”

  I glance at Daisy, and her eyes are wide, pinging between my sister and me, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  I laugh humorlessly. “You really want to do this with me, right now?”

  “Why wouldn’t I, asshol—”

  “That’s enough! Both of you. You’re adults, so why don’t you act like it?” my mother admonishes.

  The rest of dinner goes off without a hitch, but I keep shooting glares at my sister. I can feel Daisy’s eyes on me, but I find it easier not to look at her. It’s best I don’t know what she’s thinking when it comes to her going on a date with some stranger, especially when I’m having so much fun fucking her. No one is going to come between her and me.

  Not again.

  After dinner, we all sit in the living room, talking about work and details of Rose’s upcoming wedding. When she excuses herself to use the bathroom, I follow.

  I corner my sister in the hallway, and unlike Daisy, the whole domineering act doesn’t work on her. Instead, she crosses her arms over her chest and raises a stern brow.

  “What do you want, Satan?”

  My lips twitch with amusement, but it slips when I remember what she said during dinner. My gaze narrows ever so slightly, and I pinch my lips together.

  “Cancel the date.”

  Her eyes flash. “What?”

  “I said cancel the stupid blind date.”

  Her own eyes narrow. “And why the hell would I do that? I don’t see what business my best friend’s dating life is to you.”

  “I’m doing her a favor here. Her track record with men isn’t all that great.”

  “Yeah, you included,” she snaps irritably.

  “Cancel the stupid date, and you can borrow the yacht.”

  She scoffs. “You think I care about going yachting? You idiot, do you even know me at all?”

  I grit my teeth together. “You’re setting her up for failure. You know it. I know it. She’s just going to get hurt, and that’s the last fucking thing she needs right now.”

  Rosalind stills. “Why do you care if she gets hurt, Callan? You’ve never cared before.”

  Wrong.

  “She’s my assistant. She can’t do a good job if she’s dealing with personal shit.”

  The frown on my sister’s face deepens. She searches my gaze, and her eyes widen. “Holy shit. You’re sleeping with her, aren’t you?”

  My lips thin into a grim line. “Cancel the damn date, Rose.”

  She laughs. The sound grates on my fucking nerves. How I wish we were still children and I could put her in a goddamn chokehold again.

  “That’s the only reason you’d care this much. The only reason you’d care at all—because you’re jealous.”

  I roll my eyes. “And who the hell would I be jealous of? Not some punk who needs to be set up on a blind date, that’s for sure.”

  “You’re so full of yourself. And I’ll have you know, Jeremy is a great guy. He works at the firm, and he thinks Daisy is a knockout. They’re going to be perfect together.”

  “Oh, real smart. Hoo
k her up with another attorney because the last one turned out to be such a standup guy.”

  “You feel something for her, don’t you? Why else would you be this adamant about canceling a blind date?” The look on her face tells me she’s thinking she’s suddenly cracked some code and has it all figured out. But she’s wrong.

  “She means nothing to me.”

  Rage takes over my sister’s face. “You’re a goddamn liar. How dare you use my best friend!” She shoves me in the chest. “How dare you do this to her again!”

  “I’m trying to help,” I grit.

  She shakes her head. “No, what you’re going to do is break her heart, Callan. And if you do that, I will never forgive you. I’ve let the past slide because you’re my own flesh and blood, but no more. If you even think about hurting her, so help me, I will make your miserable life hell.”

  Whirling around on her heels, she stalks away, fuming. My next words stop her in her tracks.

  “I won’t break her heart.”

  “And how can you be so sure? You’ve done it before.”

  “Because she still loves her husband. You can’t break someone’s heart if it belongs to someone else.”

  She laughs manically. “You and I both know that’s a crock of shit.”

  I deflate against the wall. Slamming my eyes shut, I refrain from vigorously rubbing at my temples. Goddammit, the women in my life drive me insane. As if to prove my point, I sense eyes on me. When I peel my gaze open, I heave a deep sigh.

  Christ.

  “You look upset,” my mom observes, eyeing me closely.

  “I’m tired. I’ve been working a lot.”

  My mom slides her arm around my back like she used to and hugs me while pulling me along with her.

  “What are you doing?” I quirk a brow at her. She stares up at me, so much love shining in her eyes, it’s making me uncomfortable.

  “Oh hush, I’m hugging my son.” She rolls her eyes. “And you work too much.”

  “Some would say I don’t work enough.”

  She snorts. “Son, no one would say that. All you do is work, Callan. I just want to make sure you’re happy. Work can’t be the only solid thing in your life. You need more stability than that.”