Baby Did a Bad Bad Thing (Hautboy Series Book 3)

by Anne Berkeley

  “I didn’t say it was none of your business.” I smiled at my own ingenuity. Take that, prick.

  “That's all semantics. The implied meaning’s the same.”

  “Like I said, we’re not involved.”

  “That's temporary.”

  “Shut up.”

  Jake arched one brow, as if to say, “Excuse me?”

  “Don’t toy with me. If you can set me aside so easily, you obviously don’t like me as much as you’d like me to believe.”

  “Your logic is a little warped.”

  “Really? It’s been two weeks. You never called.” I hadn’t forgotten.

  “I told you—it’s complicated.”

  “It’s ok,” I lied. “Like I said, I wasn’t expecting your call.” That didn’t mean I wasn’t hoping for it or that I wasn’t disappointed when it didn’t come.

  “Shaw.” There it was, that word of warning again.

  “Since you’re not going to take no for an answer, I’ll take the job.” I pushed the storm door open. “Let Tate and Cooper know I’ll see them first thing Tuesday morning.”

  “Why are you acting like this?”

  “Because you were right. I should know better than mixing work with personal. I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

  Glowering, Jake closed the distance between us and handed me the Easter basket he’d brought. When he leaned in, I turned my head to avoid his lips. “Your mother invited me to dinner, Shaw. It would be rude if I left now.”

  I blanched perceptibly. “No!”

  “Seeing that you like to keep secrets,” Jake smiled. “I’m curious to see what I can learn about you.”

  “This is totally against the rules! You’re encroaching on my personal space!”

  “The rules are evolving. You haven’t started the job yet.”

  “You can’t do that!”

  “I make the rules, remember?”

  “If you take one step toward that dining room, I’ll break your nose.” I couldn’t break his nose if I tried. I was admittedly a total girl. You’d think I would’ve learned a thing or two living with ten brothers.

  “You’re cute.” I growled fractiously, my hands clenching into fists. Jake’s eyes widened. A smile spread across his face. Despite his amusement, he raised his hands and took a step back. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “No.” I shook my head, collecting my composure. “No, I’m not.” But I might throw the motherlode of hissy fits.

  “Then what’re you getting so worked up about?”

  “You’re blurring the lines.”

  “The lines are already blurred, Shaw. Perhaps I’m trying to define them myself. Have you considered that?”

  That he might actually like me past physical attraction? “No.” I couldn't grasp the concept. My mind was aflutter, plagued with scenarios and motives. For all I knew, he was fucking with my head because he needed me to take the job. Tate had tasked him to it.

  “Paisley, we’re waiting to say grace!” Dad called. Undoubtedly, he was in a rush to eat because he was missing some sports game.

  I looked at Jake, hoping he would back out. When he motioned me forward, I had to refrain from sighing. This was no small event, not that he had any idea. I’d never had a…guest over for dinner. They were likely going to draw egregious conclusions about our relationship.

  I could feel his smirk on the back of my head as I led him into the dining room where my family sat watching with eager eyes. All but Parker, who’d been relegated to the children’s table to make room for Jake. His frown matched the depth of my own. I considered offering him my seat at the adult table in exchange for his.

  Dad’s blue eyes met mine before moving to Jake. They narrowed slightly, undoubtedly taking in his beaten appearance. Despite his wariness, Dad managed a polite smile. He stood from his chair and extended his hand. “It’s a tight fit but welcome.

  Jake shook Dad’s hand without hesitation. “Thank you for making room on such short notice, sir.”

  Dad snorted at Jake’s use of formality. “Call me Michael.”

  “Jake.”

  “Have a seat.” Dad gestured to the seat at his right, beside his place at the head of the table, and across from my mother.

  I just wanted to die. Just a little while. Until this day was over. Except this day was about to evolve into two weeks, possibly longer. Jake Whalen was about to become part of my daily routine. I wanted to throw up. I wanted to go back to his apartment above Funk 49.

  Before I could even reach for my chair, Jake took the Easter basket from my hand and placed it off to the side, and then pulled out my chair for me. I sat, reluctant to make a scene. Yes, I wanted to argue even that courteous gesture. Somehow, I managed a “Thank you.”

  His fingers brushed along my nape as he took his seat. I could feel my face flush with a fresh burst of color. That little caress was a reward for my compliance. I wasn’t stupid.

  Dad cleared his throat, and we all joined hands. “O Lord, we thank you for the gifts of your bounty which we enjoy at this table. As you have provided for us in the past, so may you sustain us throughout our lives. While we enjoy your gifts, may we never forget the needy and those in want. Amen.”

  A reply of amen filled the room. Silverware began clinking. I grabbed Jake’s plate and began piling it with food before it disappeared. When it was gone it was gone. There were rarely second helpings at our table.

  “So how did you two meet?” Mom asked. And the interrogation began.

  “Tate Watkins’ wife was a patient at the hospital.” I’d already told her this, of course.

  “I know that,” Mom tutted. “I want to hear it from Jake. You’re frugal with your details.”

  “She certainly turns heads, ma’am.”

  Mom smiled indulgently. “It’s that violet hair. Always was her favorite color.”

  My favorite color was red.

  “To be honest, it has nothing to do with her hair. She’s beautiful regardless.” Piper and Perry, the two youngest, broke down into giggles. Jake winked at them.

  “What an effing player,” I heard Peter say under his breath. I kicked him indiscreetly under the table. “What? You’re not actually buying any of his bullshit, are you?”

  “Shut up, Peter.”

  “Just saying—he completely avoided you the other day.”

  “We’re not dating,” I told my mother, placing Jake’s plate in front of him. Peter, I would deal with later. The more I argued, the more he’d make a scene. “He came to see me about the job. Can you please stop with the questions?”

  “Paisley,” Mom scolded. Her hand hovered around her face, deflecting my comment like I’d spouted blasphemy.

  “She’s right, ma’am,” Jake intervened. “We’re in agreement on that. While she’s under Tate’s employment, it would be safer if we didn’t see each other personally. I wouldn’t want any disagreements between us to jeopardize her job.”

  “I don’t think that you have much of a choice. It’s not as though you can control whom you’re attracted to or whom you fall in love with. You try ignoring that sort of thing and fate will make an utter fool of you.”

  Whatever Jake had in his mouth, lodged in his throat, marking my mother’s words. If you asked me, fate didn’t have anything to do with it. It was sheer stupidity for coming here in the first place.

  Chapter 9

  I pulled up in front of the Watkins’ Family Mansion as I liked to call it, not so far that they’d see me, but so I could sit and collect myself one last time before going inside and facing Him. Already, I could feel my pits starting to sweat. I needed to find a nice safe dweeb like Henry, but an ugly nerdy dweeb that would worship the ground I walked on. He would feed me bonbons while I lounged on the beach in Belize, and never look at another woman.

  Hey, it was my pipe dream.

  No, I fell for Him. Jake Whalen. He was a musician for a world famous rock band. Shit like this didn’t happen to nobodies like me. The only t
hing I had going for me was my violet hair, and a desperate need to fuck someone that wasn’t Henry. I should’ve stuck with Cade.

  Cade the Cock wouldn’t have shown up on my doorstep. He wouldn’t have stood five feet in front of me, while giving me ten thousand reasons why we couldn’t date. The sight of him wouldn’t tease me with memories of the past, and dreams of a future. So what if my future was filled with leather crops and silk scarves. I was entitled to whatever eccentricities I secretly desired.

  Catching my attention, my new phone buzzed, crawling across the passenger seat. It was a gift from Cooper and Tate, a blatant bribe to take the job. I knew because there was a note taped to the box that said it was standard issue for all Hautboy employees. Coop went on to add that if I decided not to take the job, I had to return it in person so she could persuade me otherwise.

  “It’s safe to come in,” the message read, “Jake’s not here yet.”

  Well fuckity fuck fuck. I wasn’t fooling anyone.

  Sliding my foot off the brake, I turned into the driveway. The gates were already swinging open. God, they must’ve had cameras everywhere. Cooper’s ex must’ve been a total nutcase.

  I supposed I should count my blessings that my life wasn’t that dramatic.

  As with the last time, Marshall met me at the end of the driveway. The two large puppies—if you could call them that—trotted exuberantly at his side. They seemed so well behaved this time that when I stepped out of my car, I wasn’t expecting them to tackle me.

  They were all legs and tongue. I managed to block most of their advances.

  Though muffled, I could hear Carter’s laughter from somewhere not far away. He reminded me of Peter, always laughing at someone else's expense.

  “You alright?” Marshall asked, pulling the slightly larger of the two from my right leg. God, I think he was humping me. “Fuckin’ pervert.”

  My eyebrows shot up my forehead. “Excuse me?”

  “The dog,” Marshall explained. “I don’t care what they say about it being a dominance thing. He humped the kid’s bouncy horse this morning. You know—those things on the big metal coils—bounces back and forth?”

  “Lovely. How did you get stuck with dog duty?”

  “Nah, I like them alright. They’re like Em’s kids, which makes me their uncle, or beta…something like that. For the most part, they listen to me.”

  “Might be that you have the voice of Zeus.” He had a deep voice, proportioned to his body. Every time I laid eyes on the man, I was astounded by his size. Juxtapose, his personality was an oxymoron.

  “I’d like to take the wrath of God out on them at times.” So he said, but he looked upon them with affection. “But they’re like babies with tails and big, sad eyes.” Unashamed, he shrugged. “What can I say—I’m a sucker.”

  “One born every minute.”

  Marshall’s smile fell. He glanced behind me. “Coop’s waiting for you inside. I’ll hold these guys off so they don’t jump all over you.”

  “Thanks,” I said absently, glancing over my shoulder. A large burgundy pickup truck rolled to a stop beside my car. The hairs on my nape stood on end, my gut telling me it could be only one person.

  Fuck it. I wasn’t running away. Not anymore.

  Turning back to Marshall, I asked, “Will they be here often?” I pointed to the dogs. “The dogs, I mean.” In my periphery, Carter and Tate both came out the front door and headed in our direction.

  “Likely,” Marshall answered. “Shane will be bringing them with him while he’s in the studio and Em is at the restaurant. Why? Are you scared of them? They wouldn’t hurt a fly. Swear.”

  “Not scared, but I might be able to use a few pointers. Commands or whatever. So they don’t knock Levy down, or me for that matter.”

  “You never had a dog?”

  “No.” In no way did my mother find raising thirteen children an imposition, but having a dog in the house was out of the question.

  “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “I can imagine.” The larger of the two—and obviously male—was licking his genitalia which was not the most attractive appendage. God, I’d never seen a dog penis before. I could’ve gone longer without ever having seen one.

  “If I could bend like that, I’d be the happiest man in the world,” said Carter Strickland. He stopped just to my right. Jake approached to my left. Tate stood beside Marshall.

  My nose scrunched in disgust. “Ew.”

  “Oh, come on,” Carter scoffed. “You’ve seen worse.”

  “I’m seeing worse now.” The female of the two had now taken interest in what her littermate was so absorbed in, and joined him.

  Unlike myself, the four men hooted with laughter, praising the dog for her group effort. Dear God.

  “I think she just gave him a little shell shock,” Carter observed. “Yup, he’s done. There it goes. Mr. Pinky’s gone, Violet. You can look again.”

  I let my eyes roll back down from the top of my head. “Disgusting.”

  “You know what it reminds me of?” Carter reflected. “A lipstick! You know—the way it goes in and out.”

  “Oh. My. God.” I shook my head, dispelling the thought and more precisely, the image. “I’m never going to use lipstick again. Ever. I’m ruined.”

  “You watched a doctor pop a humongous zit on some fat guy’s back, and you’re grossed out over a dog penis?”

  “I didn’t associate the abscess with anything I was going to rub on my lips! Now, I’ll forever think of a dog penis while trying to put some gloss on!” Naturally, they laughed harder, including Jake.

  I supposed he looked more at ease since we’d defined our relationship. By that, I mean there was no relationship. His whole little visit left me a little baffled, but in the end he’d accomplished what Tate had sent him to do. I’d taken the job, despite that being near him was comparable to having underwear crawling up my ass crack. I couldn’t ignore it, but I couldn’t bear it, either.

  “I’m just teasing you, Violet. No need to look so miserable.” Carter chucked me on the shoulder, and I stumbled sideways. I used Marshall’s thick arm to steady myself.

  “Geez, Carter, you’re just like the eleventh brother I never wanted.”

  “So where’re your bags?” Tate inquired. He aimed his thumb in the direction of the house. “We’ll help you carry ‘em in.”

  “He wants to make sure you’re sticking around,” Carter expounded. “He’s gonna hold your bags hostage so you don’t hotfoot it out of here again.”

  “‘Cause you don’t think sending him to my house to do your browbeating was enough,” I said to Tate, gesturing to Jake with a jerk of my chin. “I’m here, aren’t I?

  Tate looked at me with confusion.

  My stomach bottomed out.

  Lord.

  Tate hadn’t sent him.

  “Dude,” Carter sneered at Jake, “you’re breaking the rules left and right. What the fuck?” Clearly pissed, he folded his arms across his chest, his brows forming a small ridge above his eyes.

  “Fuck off, Carter. She needed the job. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t standing in her way of taking it. Besides, I couldn’t find a delivery service to deliver Tate’s fucking cell phone. It was Easter Sunday.” Refusing to even look in my direction, Jake stalked off toward the house.

  Trying to compartmentalize the slew of thoughts racing through my head, I pulled my keys from my purse. Tate’s mouth popped open. I was quick to allay his fears. I wasn’t running away. Fuck Jake Whalen. “You were going to help me with my bags.”

  “Hey, I’m really sorry about that. I would’ve had someone else do it, but Jake was the only one free. I didn’t think, in a million years, he’d drive it there himself.”

  “It’s fine. Just do me a favor, and don’t harass him about it. He’s telling the truth. He only came over to make sure I’d take the job.” Tate didn’t need to know Jake had kissed me. It hadn’t meant anything. Maybe he just liked th
e chase, and I was playing hard to get. He was into kink, after all. My rejection had likely played into his fantasies.

  “Yeah, but that’s our privilege as friends,” Carter argued. “We get to call bullshit when we smell bullshit, and he’s knee deep in it.” Carter strode off, mumbling angrily. “Fucking hypocrite, preaching about rules...fuck your rules…”

  I was really regretting tossing Henry’s scrubs in the laundry chute. At the hospital, at least I’d have several thousand staff and patients separating us. Here, I had no buffer.

  “I’ll get your bags,” Marshall said, taking my keys from my hand. He looked at Tate before heading for my car. “You better get inside and mediate before they start beating on one another again.”

  Tate stole a glance in my direction, measuring my expression. “It doesn’t have anything to do with you. You’re just the excuse. Carter’s been down everyone’s throats lately.”

  “So he’s naturally abrasive?”

  “He’s a good guy.” Mid turn, he gestured for me to follow him. I glanced at Marshall, who was wrestling my bags from the trunk of my car. I hadn’t packed light, but he looked up and winked. I trotted to catch up to Tate. “He’s a good guy,” Tate repeated, “but if he gets on your case, tell him to—”

  “Fuck off.”

  Tate belted out a laugh. “I don’t know if that’s good or bad that you know that already.”

  “Em apprised me on how to handle him.”

  “I’m surprised Em didn’t tell you to bunt him with a baseball bat.”

  “They don’t get along, I take it.”

  “She’s angry with him.”

  I didn’t ask why, and he didn’t offer an explanation. That was Em’s business. I wasn’t in the position to ask questions of a personal nature. I was here to work. I had to remind myself of that so that I didn’t get caught up in my curiosity driven desire to know them as people.

  Tate threw open the front door. I stepped through and stood aside while he closed it behind him. “My dad has Levi out. That’ll give you time to talk with Coop alone. She can go over Levi’s schedule and whatnot.”

  “How did her appointment go?”

  “Activity restriction,” was his answer, with a shake of his head. I looked up just in time to see Cooper waddling out of the kitchen. She wore a guilty smirk, looking up from under her lashes. The exchange said a thousand words. I felt intrusive witnessing it.