Nic earns a good chunk of change as VP, so I know that my dad isn’t exactly making her slave for every penny, but like she’d confessed to ‘Liesel’ while I rubbed her sexy body down…it adds up…schooling and rent, not to mention just getting clear of debt.
Odds are good that if my girl was willing to go to the bank and take out a loan at an exorbitant interest rate, especially in today’s economy, she’s more than struggling.
Nic is a smart and sensible woman, and I have every faith in her that she’s not spending her money on crap. No, she’d take care of the necessaries and make sure her kid is taken care of before she even considered herself.
Shit, she’s even paying an old lady to be Cody’s nanny because she loves the old bird. But that’s just Nic. She’s a nurturer. She loves taking care of people and making sure they’re happy.
Once upon a time she’d taken care of me too, a lot of the time doing her best to get me out of the funk I was in after an injury officially killed my impending pro-hockey career.
Yeah, my girl is a good one, and I have every intention of getting her back so she can shine some of that light on me. Only this time I intend to give back, and if I have my say about it, I’ll be taking care of her and removing all her worries for the rest of her life.
“So you were going to tell me about that meeting with your bank manager,” I prompt once we’re sitting at the bar with fruity cocktails and our food has been ordered.
She gives me a long-suffering sigh and starts playing with the pink umbrella in her glass as she starts talking.
“My husband was a great guy, but he was definitely a metrosexual who loved fashion and had a closet that would rival Oprah’s.”
As a man who had to hire a stylist because I really don’t give much of a crap about what I’m wearing, I can’t relate or make any sort of constructive comment, so I hold my tongue and wait for her to continue.
“Don’t misunderstand me; Brody never took money from me and he was a good provider,” she rushes to say, her reminiscent smile turning the screws deeper.
“But.”
“But he liked to shop, and when he just died…he left me holding the bag. I had a one-year-old baby to care for, a full-time job, rent, and then all this debt—that was quite shockingly a lot.”
The thought of her grieving and having to juggle it all leaves me furious at this guy. What sort of real man doesn’t make provisions for his wife and child?
If it had been me, I would have ensured that not only would all expenses have been taken care of but my wife and kid would have been taken care of for the rest of their lives.
But it wasn’t me. Because I hadn’t been there.
I’d felt restless and afraid of the looming future—of growing up and joining Dad in the company. Instead of being a man, I’d run like a coward.
Fuuuck.
I definitely have no room to judge this guy, but that doesn’t make the anger and resentment I feel for the guy any less.
“How much is a lot?” I ask when the server places our plates down and leaves us alone again.
Nic takes another long sip of her drink before turning to me with a tired sigh. “Almost a hundred and ten grand.”
“Jesus!”
She snorts and starts eating her lobster salad.
“You can say that again. It wasn’t too bad at first because Cody was still a baby, and like I said, my salary was good. But then Cody started hitting milestones way too early, and his playgroup teacher brought it to my attention. By the time he was two, he was writing his alphabet and holding full conversations with people. I had to move him to a more advanced group and the costs…”
Yeah, I can well-believe that having a genus kid would hit her pocket hard.
“So what? You had to throttle back on payments?”
“Yup. Instead of using a big chunk of my check to get it all paid, I made payment arrangements with his creditors. Of course, that tacked on a boatload of interest, too, so…let’s just say that last month’s last payments hit well over the hundred and thirty mark.”
That’s understandable. The slower you pay, the more you pay, and that’s not even considering that bastard known as compound interest.
“You’re done then?”
“Yeah, but I’ve juggled so much that now that I have to catch up with a lot of other stuff and…I just wanted a loan so that I can clear things away and only have one debt in my name,” she says and sighs.
She’s not too happy right now, but at least she’s eating, and enjoying it from the looks of her already half-eaten salad. I’d almost forgotten that my girl is in love with lobster, a meal I doubt she’s enjoyed in a really long time.
A meal I will provide for her three times a fucking day if that’s what she needs to put a smile back on her face.
I don’t say anything more or ask the host of questions running through my head because it’s all moot at this point. Come tomorrow morning, Nic won’t have a penny of debt left in her name.
I’m taking it all on and clearing her plate.
That’s what a real man does for his family, and now that I’ve found the family I want, that is the very least of what I’ll do to give them the life I should have given her ten years ago.
******************************************************************
“Hey Law? What should I do with these ugly ass ponchos?”
I hold up a hand to cut Nic off and continue listening to what Dad’s saying.
“I took care of everything and even settled the tuition for the rest of the school year. That huge ass mortgage her late husband got on their apartment is all that needs to be taken care of now. Swear to God, why people think it’s smarter not to go for fixed interest is beyond me.”
I hear you old man.
“Leave that last one, Pop. It won’t be necessary for much longer if I have my way.”
Yeah, because if I have my way, Nic and her boy will be moving into my wing of the sprawling mansion and staying there for the next fifty years or more.
I definitely don’t want her and the kid living in an apartment that was stamped by another man, and I definitely will not be visiting my girl there and fucking her in her dead husband’s linens.
Naw, I’m a territorial, possessive asshole, so I want her in my bed, wrapped in my thousand-thread-count sheets, smelling like me and only me.
It’s irrational since her husband has been dead a long time, but that’s not seeming to make a whole lot of a difference at all. I want to provide everything they need and that starts with where they live and eat their meals.
“Law, son, I think you should slow down for a minute and consider that maybe Nico won’t be very accepting of this take-charge attitude you’ve got going. You’re moving at the speed of light.”
Once again his tone and the fact that he doesn’t seem to trust my intentions has my hackles rising, and I just refrain from spitting out a curse.
Part of me understands that I haven’t exactly fostered a spirit of trust in those I love, but for fuck’s sake, can’t a man change?
“Look, Dad, I know you don’t trust me—”
“I do, son. Believe me, I do, but your actions in the past have left a lot of shit behind in your dust, and I can’t say I blame Nico for her attitude all these years. I won’t lie and sugarcoat that just to make you feel better.”
“What are you talking about?”
The way he’s talking is confusing—and has nothing to do with my future plans. Sure, I’m not winning any awards for the crap I’d pulled, but Nic has no reason to hold anything against me anymore because I’m going to make up for it, and he knows that.
I hear a sigh.
“Give the phone to Nic.”
“What? Why? Don’t go sabotaging me—”
“Shut up and give her the phone, boy. I’m about to do you the biggest favor in the world. Remember to thank me when you get home.”
I just grumble and wave her over, holding the phone out and shrug
ging when she looks at me askance.
About a minute into the one-sided conversation, I see her go pale and look over at me before she’s nodding and whispering into the phone. I can’t hear a word, but something about the tense set of her shoulders and the way she keeps glancing at me guiltily makes my gut clench.
Another few nods and stuttered breaths later and she disconnects the call and hands the phone back.
“Jack said to tell you that you should shut up and listen.”
I grin and cock a brow in inquiry, but she just shakes her head and goes back to cataloguing and inventorying the clothes.
“Later. We need to talk later.”
Chapter Twelve
Nico
God. Jack is so right—and no matter how much I’d wanted to rage at him while he calmly and very surely told me that it was time to come clean, I have to agree with him.
The problem is that I’m terrified.
A few days ago I would have just blurted it all out and told Law to go to hell if he so much as sneered my way, but now I…I find myself not wanting to ruin the calm camaraderie that we’ve established recently.
While he is in no way the love I’d met so long ago, I’m happy to note that he’s not the slimeball I’ve thought him all these years. Sure, he’s a flirt, but he explained to me that he’s not into picking up and screwing random ditzy blondes.
That doesn’t mean that he’s willing to be a prick to every woman that comes on to him. Apparently, Law isn’t into insulting women, no matter how unwanted or unwelcome their advances. His style is to let them down gently and leave them feeling secure in themselves instead of breaking them down by leading them to believe they’re unattractive.
Nice, yeah, but I find myself not liking this side of him. It suggests a considerate nature that he wasn’t willing to afford me all those years ago, and I freaking resent that he’s willing to be nice to random bimbos while he’d publicly humiliated me and left me to face those people alone.
Even more, I resent the fact that I like how much he’s changed, from that bratty boy-child into a man who is honorable enough to consider other people’s feelings.
I don’t like that his new attitude makes me reconsider my views about him. If he’s kind and nice and honorable, then I have no excuse not to tell him about Cody or trust him to be the father my son so desperately needs.
It breaks my heart to see Cody’s face when all the dads show up to watch their sons’ games, and my boy has only me. Sometimes I see the disappointment and longing on his face, and now I’m thinking that I was wrong not to have contacted Law when I found out I was pregnant. Maybe he would have come back and been a different man. Maybe I wouldn’t have been forced to marry a man who was my best pal but no husband at all.
Maybe I wouldn’t have lived for ten years dodging Cody’s questions about his father.
And no, I know what you’re thinking, I never told Cody that Brody was his dad. I’m not a total moron. I knew that eventually I’d have to fess up, and no way would I do that after lying to my son for a decade or more.
Okay Nic, stop feeling so gosh darned sorry for yourself and just get this over with.
I look up from the last blouse I’m tagging and hang it on the rack, realizing that I’ve been at this for hours while Law sits patiently waiting for me.
“You okay now, babe?”
Oh God, why does he have to be the exact opposite of the monster I’ve built up in my head?
“Yeah.”
He smiles and rises, taking my hand and pulling me to my feet, slowly so as not to hurt my stiff muscles from how I was crouching on the floor.
“Come on, Nic. Let’s go get some dinner, and then you can tell me exactly why you’ve been so skittish and quiet all afternoon. Don’t let Dad get to you about shit—”
“Your dad wasn’t…he just told me something that I know is true but have been denying to myself for a long time is all.”
Law frowns, but I ignore his questioning gaze and grab his hand, ready to get to our place so that I can tell him everything before I chicken out and convince myself that he doesn’t deserve the truth.
“Mr. James! Good to see you and Miss Sharp out and about instead of slaving away as usual. I was just on my way to invite you to sit at the captain’s table and meet some of our VIP guests. We have Marissa Green onboard.”
I ignore the captain and stay close, as Law talks to him, finally accepting the invitation with a grimace of apology that I can’t fault. The guy, I have come to notice, is never rude if he doesn’t have to be, and declining would be just that, especially since we don’t have a valid excuse.
“Sorry, babe. We’ll be in and out. An hour tops.”
“That’s fine.”
I just hope I can keep my courage for that long.
****************************************************************
Know why I hate blonde, leggy, personable actresses? Because they’re so freaking nice that I have no reason to hate them—even though the chick is currently clinging to Law like a vine and batting her ridiculously long eyelashes at him.
Little ole me is totally forgotten, but thank God I have a hot hunk sitting next to me who seems to like me just fine, so I don’t have to sit here with a mouth full of teeth and dead tongue.
“Like I was saying, Nico…I can call you Nico, right? As I was saying, you would be perfect for this role in the new movie I’m shooting next week. All that beautiful hair and those eyes. Man! The director would go nuts if he saw you.”
I can’t even remember the guy’s name, and I’m fully aware that he’s spinning me a bull story, but I play along if only to keep up some conversation while Law allows Marissa to climb him like a monkey.
Stupid, beautiful, kind…person.
“You’re hilarious. I can act about as well as I skydive, but thanks for the compliment. So what’s it like being an actor?”
He starts talking, and I zone out, so not interested in a word. A polite smile and nod every now and then is all it takes, I guess. I’m pretty sure the guy’s got his arm around the back of my chair, and he’s so close I bet he can see down my shirt and tell you my bra size.
Another thirty minutes passes and we’re almost hitting dessert when I literally feel Law turn my way and glare in the guy’s direction.
“You sit any closer and you’ll be on her goddamned lap.”
I titter—admittedly, I’ve had like four glasses of wine and I’m making steady inroads on my fifth. Mr. Actor turns a light shade of pink and backs off, his green eyes shooting daggers at Law.
“Come on, babe. I think we should go up. You look…beat.”
Another giggle—and since when do I freaking giggle?—escapes me and I end up tottering to my feet, feeling so great I even spare a smile for Marissa and the fool next to me.
“Christ, that guy was checking out your tits,” he snarls when we reach the elevator.
I’m still feeling buzzed and not so steady on my feet, so I just flop against the wall and smile.
“He was nice.”
“He was trying to get in your pants!”
Ooooh, someone’s jealous.
“Eh, he wasn’t doing too badly actually. He offered me a starring role in a new movie that’s probably gonna be a blockbuster.”
“You can’t act for shit and we all know it. He was making a play.”
He’s snarling every word as he pulls me to the room and flings the door open. All I can manage is a slurred burp and giggle, which it seems only pisses him off even more.
“You wanted that asshole?”
“Eh.”
That’s all I get out before I’m pinned to the wall by two hundred and some odd pounds of hot, angry male. His mouth swoops down and takes mine in a show of dominant possession that has me so hot so quickly that I think my panties just melted right off.
“Mine.”
His mouth is back, and he’s kissing me senseless, so senseless I don’t realize we’ve moved till I fe
el the soft mattress beneath my back. Pulling away, which makes me groan and try to cling to him, he rises up above me and starts ripping at my clothes.
“God, you’re so fucking sexy.”
He’s huffing by the time my dress and underwear are gone, and I feel a moment’s hesitation. I shouldn’t be doing this, I should be—
All thoughts cease when he stretches out naked above me and opens his mouth over my nipple, his other hand coming up to roll and tug at the other bud.
Pleasure and arousal hammer at me, making my blood pulse through my veins in a hot, sluggish pounding that sets up shop in my sex and spreads outward to every cell of my being.
I want him so much in that instant that I allow it all to drop away; I push it all back for later. Now, just this once, I want to feel the rush and crash of mutual desire.
“Your tits are perfect, bigger than they were before,” he says and groans, using his teeth and tongue to torture me. “Does that feel good, babe?”
“Yes. Yes. Please don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He worships my breasts till I’m nothing more than a muddled mess of writhing and moaning before venturing south. He licks at every inch of skin, scrapes his teeth over my hipbones, and then sets to work between my legs with a focus that has me weeping and clawing at him, begging for relief.
“Law. Please.”
“What is it, babe? What do you need?”
He’s grinning against my thigh, daring me to voice my every dark desire and go with him wherever it is he’s trying to lead me. I want to. I want to tell him every filthy, desperate need I’ve had for the last ten years, and then I want him to fulfil every one.
I want slow and sweet, hard and wild, and then I want to start all over again and let him have me in every position known to man, and even some I don’t think exist anywhere but in my depraved mind.
“You.”
It’s all I can manage to get out through my clenched, choked throat.
I want him so bad.
It seems to be enough though, and he all but falls on me as he rears up, palming my head and taking my mouth in a kiss that is hotter and more intense than any we have ever shared.
CALLIE (The Naughty Ones Book 1) Page 72
