I sat here all night just thinking, and all I could come up with is that I don’t give a shit. That kid and that woman are mine. Whether I’m the man from the hotel or not. Whether it was my sperm that created him or not.
They’re mine and I will not give them up.
Determination grabs hold of me and I feel a return of life to my limbs just as I hear my door slam hard enough to shake the foundations before Woody comes striding in, pissed off as fuck.
“You shithead! You absolute fucking idiot.”
“Well good morning to you too, Woody. Would you like to at least say hi to Pris before you explain to me what crawled up your ass and started chewing?” I drawl, sipping at my now cold coffee.
Pris, who’s been trying to crawl into the table, lifts her head with a moan and glares at Woody.
“Keep it down, diva, my bleeding head’s about to flee for its life.”
Woody cringes in apology and comes over to kiss her in greeting before grabbing a cup of coffee and falling into a seat to glare at me with renewed ire.
“Not to sound dumb or anything, but what’s your gripe, man? Did I fuck up a deal or something?”
“No, you fucking turd. This isn’t about business, it’s about the fact that I got a call from Gruffy this morning and got to hear about how poor Callie finally screwed up the courage to talk to you, waited on your doorstep for hours, and then got nothing but the cold shoulder from you.”
“What? No. It wasn’t like that, Wood.”
“It wasn’t? Because I don’t take Callie for a liar, and Grammy is way too old to give enough of a shit to lie. Did you or did you not tell that woman you love her even though she’s got it in her fool head to believe that shit Lesley told her at the club?”
My words all freeze on my tongue at the mention of that name, and I feel my blood start boiling when recent events come back to niggle at me.
“Wood. I did not give Callie the brush off, man. I got home last night dragging this one behind me because her drunk ass could barely walk.”
“Hey!” she whispers loudly, looking sheepish before her head tilts on her neck. “Okay, it’s true, Wood. I was somewhat legless last night.”
That’s an understatement. I’m surprised I didn’t have to go back to the bar to find said limbs she was so drunk. Brits. Can’t hold their liquor like a true yank.
“Dammit. Poor Callie. She spent yesterday tracking down and meeting her real dad. Deadbeat asshole, by the way. And then she came here and you weren’t here. She tried calling you, fuck face. What? You can’t answer your phone?”
He’s yelling again and ignoring Pris’s whimpers as I sit and stew, hating like hell that my girl feels so abandoned and alone that she didn’t even mention that last night.
“Woody. I didn’t know, man. I got Pris from the airport yesterday afternoon and sat in traffic on the freeway for over two hours before we made it back in. By that time my phone was dead and Pris was yammering to go out and have some fun. I was going to go to Callie today and lay shit out for her.”
“Instead she waited for you, saw this supermodel hanging off you like a disease, and then got to go home alone after all the shit she’s been through. Fucking great.”
I will revisit and maybe murder her father at a later stage. Definitely hurt him a little if he was mean to my Callie. But for now I’m stuck on the name Lesley and the fact that my girl believes my baby is not my baby.
I may not have recalled her name or face from the night at the hotel. Or the sex I know must have been smoking hot. But I do remember her scent, and that scent is the exact one that used to haunt my dreams.
No way is she not the one.
“I want to know what the hell is going on and how Lesley is involved,” I grate, my teeth grinding so hard it hurts.
Woody’s eyes narrow and I see him smile evilly before rubbing his hands together and calling dibs.
“Well see, apparently, according to a violently upset Percy, Lesley cornered Callie in the bathroom at the club and started spouting off. Long and short of that travesty is that between her and Destiny, they managed to find out the whole story about Callie and the baby. She told Callie that she was lying, that she was mistaken, whatever, because there is no way you could have been with her at the Hyatt when you were with her, in bed. All night.”
Jesus. I don’t do violence against women, but right now I could happily throttle the life out of both Destiny and Lesley. The anger is so fierce and all-consuming that it takes long minutes of deep breathing and curled fists before I can in any way respond to that.
“You know I wouldn’t touch that hag with someone else’s dick. I wasn’t with her. I was with Callie, Goddammit.”
Woody holds up his hands and leans back, his face going all soft and understanding.
“Dude, you don’t have to tell me that, I know. It’s that Callie doesn’t. She feels like crap because she thinks she lied to you and she’s already terrified that people will think she was trying to trap you or something.”
Dammit. Callie’s a fighter and nine times out of ten she’ll come up swinging at you and ready to tear your throat out. Don’t think I haven’t already heard about the Naughty Ones from Elsa.
Callie’s street name in high school was Biter, and according to them all it was a name well earned. I believe it. I’ve had first-hand experience.
“Where the hell is she, Woody?”
“Jack. Stop. You can’t just run over there yet. We need to clear this other shit up first,” he insists, grabbing me as I try to walk past.
“What the hell is there to clear up? I’m going to get my girl and my kid and then I am personally going to make sure that Lesley and Destiny do not have a pot to piss in when I’m done with them.”
“Jack, Callie really believes that the baby isn’t yours, that you aren’t her hotel guy.”
“Bullshit. I know that she’s my girl. I don’t need anyone to show me proof, and I sure as shit don’t need to remember to know it because my heart already does. We were destined to meet and I refuse to believe anything else.”
That gets me a smile and he’s ready to tag along and watch the show when we’re brought up short by Pris and her shrieking.
“Well wait for me, you nobs. I’m not missing this. Woody, Tylenol. Jack, if you leave before I have chance to get dressed, I’ll kick you in the ballocks. Goodness, I just knew it was going to be a good day.”
Chapter Nineteen
Don’t Worry, Be Sappy
Callie
Gruffy is banging shit around in the kitchen like she’s mad at the world and ready to start brawling. I can’t say I blame her. If I didn’t feel this crappy I’d probably go for a walk and try to find Sabrina Dormer for round two, just so I can feel a little better.
When the banging starts up again and Luci rolls her eyes at me for the millionth time, I heave myself off the sofa where I’ve been growing moss and trudge to the kitchen.
“Gruffy, calm down and stop breaking the freaking dishes. I won’t buy you more, you old coot,” I warn, praying for the butter dish when she reaches for it.
It slams down just as her eyes shoot up and I cringe and draw back a little when she gets her look.
“I will not. I am so sick and bloody tired of this shite, it’s making my bile rise. You’re an ass, Calliopeia Landry. You’re a complete dunderheaded ninnypate for being so bloody stubborn.”
We’ve had this conversation. We had it all night last night when I got here, bawling because I finally lost my shit in the cab and totally peed myself.
No laughing, people. It happened and I’m mortified and I just wanted to die when I covered half of the back seat.
Sheesh, I hope the cabbie doesn’t remember the address and come back here or I will never hear the end of it from the hyenas in the living room.
“Gruff, we’ve been over this and you have insulted me to death already. This is not Jack’s baby. Jack was not with me the night I conceived. Jack does not deserve to be saddl
ed with me thinking this is his kid when he did nothing wrong.”
Jesus help me. What is it with these people?
“Callie, you’re an ass.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’ve only said it like a hundred times since breakfast,” I mutter, grabbing Gramps’s hallowed teacup before she can destroy the prized momento.
“Stop that!”
“I won’t. It’s the only thing saving you from a right good thrashing right now, young lady.”
The cane comes up and I hesitantly hand her the cup to save myself a hard pounding. Gruffy takes it and looks at it for the longest time before placing it gently on the table and looking up at me again.
“Tell me this, Calliopeia, and I’ll stop trying to convince you of your foolishness.”
Finally.
“Do you love the boy?”
“Gruffy.”
“Answer, lass. Do you or do you not love that boy, and don’t go scowling at your old gran. Answer.”
I feel my shoulders slump and I sit with a huff, closing my eyes against another flood of grief.
“Of course I do, Gruffy. Jesus, old woman, you think I cry for just any old hobo? I have a freaking heart too, you know, and unfortunately for me, the stupid thing started beating for that asshole, no matter how hard I tried not to give in.”
“Then why give up, lass?” she asks gently, her sad eyes penetrating my very soul.
“Gruffy, I can’t do the whole duty thing again. You and Gramps loved me, I know that, and I will never forget that I had a great home and all the love I could ask for, but I wasn’t yours till Mom dumped me here. You were already old and ready to retire and go on your cruise that Gramps had been saving for. What you got instead was a snot-nosed little kid that you had to take responsibility for. I don’t want that for me. Or Jack.”
“Well what the hell do you want, lass?”
“I want him to love me and want me and JJ because he can’t live without us, not do this because he feels like he has to take responsibility for us. The kid isn’t even his,” I say mournfully, hoping like hell that my little one has a fighting chance in the looks department now that the dice is up in the air again.
From the looks of Jethro, I am terrified that I’ll give birth to a hobbit.
“Gruffy is right, baby, you are an idiot.”
My shock and absolute joy at hearing that voice have me turning so swiftly, I almost dump my ass on the floor as I look up and right into Jack’s eyes.
My grin is unstoppable. I can’t help it. The sight of him is just so welcome, I feel like the bloody sun just rose in the kitchen.
Of course the whole crew has crowded in like the apes they are, and so it’s with a public spectacle at hand that I register his words and feel my eyes narrow dangerously.
“Did you just call me an idiot, Levin?”
His mouth twitches, as if this is funny, and I growl before catching sight of last night’s stunner. Great. Just great. He brought his hooker with.
“Hey! I’ll have you know you just said that out loud, Callie. Not cool. I don’t hook, I’m not that smart. I just sleep around for the odd dinner or ten.”
Whoops.
“Sorry. My bad.”
She grins and elbows Jack, who is now trying and failing to stifle his laughter, and I roll my eyes and blow out a huge breath when he loses the fight and starts howling.
“Yeah I just called you an idiot. Shit, lady, I just had to stand there and listen to you whining like a girl about bullshit. You think that kid isn’t mine?” he asks, going to his knees to lay his hands on my swelling waistline.
Damn those cookies.
“Jack—”
“He’s mine, Cal. He is most definitely mine and I know it.”
“How?” I ask, my lip pouting as the tenderness in his eyes grabs me and won’t let go.
“Baby, I told you from that first night, I remember the smell of honeysuckle and it’s not perfume I kept scenting. Was it?”
I blush at that and giggle a little, recalling the way he discovered exactly the scent he was looking for. Hell yeah I remember where he found what he called the source.
“But Lesley—”
“Is a Goddamn liar, Callie. Look at me, baby. Do you really think I’d go anywhere near that lunatic with my dick? Sorry, Elsa.”
“No, boy. Go on, then, I’m truly enjoying this, I am. Why my husband used to tell me I smell—”
“Gruffy. Nasty,” Percy yells, cutting her off as Jack and I freeze and cringe.
“Well fine, then.”
“Callie. You know I didn’t want to have to bring this up since I saw the way you were so self-conscious about the thing, but I have to tell ya, baby, there cannot be another woman alive on this planet who got that little shrivelled dick as a tattoo.”
What! Oh God, you did not just tell the animals about my only secret.
“Tattoo?”
“Shrivelled dick.”
“Screw off! I’m having an epiphany,” I yell, biting into my lip as hope surges. “The tattoo?”
Please, God, please let him say what I think he’s going to say. He mentioned it before, but I didn’t pay it any mind and he never said it again. I just assumed he was talking about the tiny one on my neck beneath my hair.
“I may not remember much about our first night together, baby, and I may be a complete asshole for this, but I have to tell you that if there is one thing that I do remember and will never stop laughing about, it’s that tattoo. That shit is unforgettable. You’re my girl, Callie. I knew it before I saw that tattoo, and it may have taken me a while last night to pull my head out of my ass, but it’s out and I am telling you—you and me, we’re it.”
Oh, I have never loved that ugly little dick so much in my life.
My heart is just about ready to beat out of my chest as joy hits me, and I’m not ashamed to admit that I’m crying a little as I launch myself at him and start laugh kissing him all over the face.
“Oh, Jack. I love you so much. I was so scared when she told me it couldn’t be you, and then I went to talk to you and she was in your office and then this one—hey! Who is this sexy bitch?” I demand, pushing away with a scowl.
Jack starts laughing even harder and stops my struggles as I attempt to rise to get to supermodel. She won’t be hot for long if she touched my man, I can tell you that.
My moxy is back, people, and I’m ready to start biting.
“Calm down, baby. That’s Pris. My cousin.” He chuckles as Woody cuffs her upside the head with a grin.
Pris rubs at her offended head and grins at me with a giggle.
“Sorry, love. If you’d have stuck around last night you’d have seen him toss me onto the guest bed with nary a bit of concern for my fragile state and leave me to sleep in a puddle of my own puke. Sorry for that by the way, Jack.”
Even I wince at that, but it’s forgotten when Jack takes my face in his hands and lovingly stroked my tears away.
“Callie, you adorable fool. I love you, woman. Why would I ever need to look at someone else when I’ve found my crazy soul mate? Now, stop crying and tell me you’re gonna marry me. I have to warn you, Mom’s already planned the wedding so no is not an option.”
My answer is a squeal I will deny in the years to come and a kiss that gets us both hot enough that people start grumbling and leave us alone for fear of a porn show taking place.
When I pull away to catch my breath I feel like I just won the freaking lottery. We’re both grinning and happy enough to make a real woman puke but I don’t care.
He’s my one. He’s my Mr. Hotel. My annoying other half, and I have never felt so wanted in all my bloody life.
“I love you, Jack, you annoying git. Now take me home and do naughty, naughty thing to me, please.”
“Jesus, save my stomach. That drivel’s sweet enough to turn an old woman’s stomach,” Gruffy grumbles. “At least give us a little show before you start making me sick, you young sappy idiots.”
&nbs
p; We both groan and look up to see Gruffy now sitting at the table, a glass of scotch in her hand, looking for all the world as if she’s comfortable and ready to watch like this is a spectator sport.
“You know we’re a packaged deal, right?” I groan, burying my face in his neck.
He grunts again and I feel him shaking with laughter as he kisses my hair and pulls me closer.
“I can deal with that, baby. As long as she and Gramps never make it down the aisle, I can deal.”
Yikes. I’ll be fine with that as long as I never have to see them smooch. Or anything else.
Chapter Twenty
Here Comes the Bride
Luci
Today is the absolutely perfect day for a wedding, I think happily as I look around the yard and admire my handiwork. Mama Levin and I did the back yard up in grand-old style and I even went so far as to let her use my flower scheme for Callie’s wedding, because, let’s all face it, I am probably never ever getting married so I won’t need my book of crushed dreams to plan my own extravaganza.
To say that Freddie and I are on a hiatus is the hopeful and completely delusional part of me still praying that I have not gone and fallen in love with the world’s biggest ass.
He’s a gobbler. I don’t care how harsh that sounds or that my heart squeezes and protests the moniker whenever I have the uncharitable thought.
He is.
At first when I’d realized that I’d given my special gift to a total player and liar, I’d been broken with grief and regret. It hurt to think that Freddie would be callous enough to take something that special to me without a thought or care for what I meant.
I cried. Into my pillow late at night when no one could hear. Because I was truly heartbroken when he stopped coming around and then sent me that freaking text. As if you could ever break up with someone via text without coming off a complete ass.
After that I’d gone into what I would call a bit of a tailspin. I got angry. So angry I had the insane urge to tell my daddy all about him and watch as my usually laid back parent lost his temper.
CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Page 12
