Vegas Baby

by Winter Renshaw

  But it’s just the fear of the unknown.

  What does he want? Why did he look for me? How the hell did he find me?

  “This just goes to show you, our past is never dead and gone.” Bryson faces all the wine bottles and stands back to admire his work. “It always follows us. Please tell me nothing crazy’s going to go down in here tonight, because I spent the better part of today dealing with my crazy ex and, honey, I don’t have the energy.”

  “It’s not going to get crazy.” I speak words I can’t guarantee. My hope is as good as his.

  The door jingles, and my heart drops. My eyes snap toward the entrance where a man with flowing blond hair rolls in like he owns the place.

  Shit.

  Shit. Shit. Shit.

  From across the bar, I can see plain as day.

  That’s not Mathias.

  It’s his brother, Elijah.

  The one who was obsessed with me.

  The one who was excommunicated from the commune for having “less than a pure heart.”

  My blood simmers beneath my skin, sending a prickling burn to my ears. I left that life. I left all those people. And Elijah Shiloh has the nerve to try and find me.

  “Bryson,” I say under my breath, praying he can hear me. “I’m not here.”

  I pray Elijah doesn’t see me as I duck down under the bar and rush back to my office.

  I lock the door the second I’m inside.

  And wait.

  I’ll wait here all night if I have to.

  Elijah’s bad news.

  Elijah’s unstable.

  I want nothing to do with him, and I’ll be damned if I give him a chance to talk to me. There’s nothing he could possibly need from me. I haven’t seen him since I was nineteen and he destroyed his father’s meditation room in a fit of rage when he discovered Mathias and I were exclusive.

  I pull in a deep breath and sit by my phone, waiting patiently for the moment Bryson calls to tell me he’s gone.

  And then I know exactly where I’m going.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Crew

  “Calypso.” I pull my door open, Emme sound asleep in my arms. “What are you doing here?”

  She steps inside and falls into my sofa, nibbling on a fingernail and staring ahead.

  “I need a favor,” she says after a minute.

  “Let me put Emme down.” When I return, she’s braiding and unbraiding her hair. “Okay, you need to calm the fuck down and tell me what the hell is going on. Is this because of last night? Are you going to be all weird around me because we fucked?”

  Calypso seems to pull out of it for a second, dropping her braid and furrowing her brows at me.

  “God, no. Crew, this isn’t about that. At all.”

  I’m slightly relieved, though I don’t let it show.

  “Then what’s going on? You’ve been a fucking basket case since I picked the baby up earlier.”

  “Someone came into the store today. Looking for me. Someone from Shiloh Springs.”

  “That commune?”

  “Yeah.” She looks away. “I thought it was my ex, but it’s his brother.”

  I shake my head. “Okay, so . . .”

  “He’s not right, Crew. He’s not right in the head. He was kicked out of Shiloh Springs years ago. I haven’t seen him in five, six years. Something like that. He was obsessed with me.” Her hands wring the air and red blooms from her cheeks. “I’m so fucking livid.”

  I see that.

  “How’d he find you?”

  She rakes her fingers through the sides of her hair and pulls two perfect handfuls between her fingers as she paces.

  “No clue.”

  “Why’d you go back to the store tonight?”

  “I thought it was his brother, my ex. He told Pres he had an important message to give me. I thought maybe it was about my parents.” She pulls in a quick breath, her expression tightening. “I hid in my office for three hours, Crew. That’s how long Elijah stuck around to wait for me. He refused to leave.”

  “Where is he now?” I square my shoulders, pain searing through my tight jaw.

  “He told Presley he’s staying in town. He’s going to keep coming back to look for me. That’s how he is. He’s obsessive. He came here to talk to me. He’s not leaving until he does.”

  “What does he want?”

  “I don’t know. Me?”

  I slick my thumb along my jaw and exhale.

  “Okay,” I say. “This is easy. Next time he comes in, have Presley tell him to come back at a certain time. He shows up again, it’ll be me he meets with.”

  Calypso shakes her head. “That’d piss him off. Might make things worse.”

  “You’re not going back there,” I say.

  She scoffs. “It’s my business. I can’t stay away.”

  “Then you’re not going back there alone.”

  “I don’t need you to rescue me.”

  “Then why’d you come here?”

  Her jaw falls, her words sputtering. “I-I just didn’t want. I didn’t want to—”

  “You said you needed a favor.” My arms fold.

  “Yeah.” Her chest rises as she inhales. “I didn’t want to be alone tonight.”

  Her voice weakens and her eyes fall.

  “Does he scare you?”

  She bites the inside of her bottom lip. “He used to. But I’m too pissed off to be scared right now. I left Shiloh Springs. I came here to get away from all of those people.”

  I take her by the wrist and pull her against me. She doesn’t need a lecture. She doesn’t need the Spanish Fucking Inquisition. She needs a hug. A friend. Some shit like that.

  “I shouldn’t have come here,” she says. “I shouldn’t bring you into this. Just didn’t know where else to go. Didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

  “It’s okay to ask for help.” I press her cheek against my chest. She’s hard to move, resisting me. I’m not the best at comforting people, but damn it, I’m trying. Pretty sure this is as awkward for her as it is for me. “You don’t have to go through everything alone all the time.”

  She exhales, and I look down, watching the tops of her lashes as she blinks in slow motion.

  “Crew?” she asks.

  “Yeah.”

  “Stop talking.”

  I laugh.

  Noelle says it’s a bad habit of mine, to fill the silent spaces of awkward conversations with anything and everything. I’m relieved that she wants me to shut up, because I’m not good at these kinds of talks.

  Her face nuzzles against my shirt, and her body eases under my arms.

  “Can I stay here tonight?” she asks. “I can take the couch. I . . . I just don’t want to be home in case—”

  “Of course, Calypso.”

  “I don’t know what Elijah wants. I don’t know what he’s capable of. I don’t—”

  She peels herself from me and glances up at me through wet lashes. My free-spirited, sweet-natured Calypso trembles.

  I fucking hate this Elijah prick.

  I shush her, running my finger against her full lips.

  “You’re staying here as long as you need. And I’m not putting you on the couch. You can have my bed.”

  “I can’t take your bed.”

  “Fine. We’ll share.”

  She bites away a millisecond-long smile. It’s so quick I think I may have imagined it.

  “Just don’t try anything tonight,” I tease. “I know how you are. You women can never keep your hands to yourselves.”

  Calypso laughs for the first time since she burst through my door tonight.

  I take her hand and lead her to my room.

  We step over piles of laundry, and I grab my comforter off the floor and spread it across my bed. I pat the edge and nod for her to have a seat.

  I make my way across the room, pulling a drawer from my dresser and rifling around until I find a t-shirt that isn’t fifty stains of construction brown. I t
oss it at her and she catches it in mid-air.

  “Thanks.” She peels off her peasant-looking blouse and pulls the t-shirt over her head. When she stands a second later, she shimmies her hips until her skirt falls to the ground.

  My t-shirt hangs down enough to cover her ass cheeks. I can only hope she doesn’t notice the slight swell in my pants right now.

  Calypso yawns, sliding back on her hands until she reaches the head of the bed. Slipping her legs one by one under the covers, she sinks back into a mountain of pillows. My mountain. I can’t sleep without at least five pillows built around me in a semi-circle fortress.

  I glance at the one leftover pillow on the opposite side of the bed.

  I’ll let her have my pillow fortress tonight. If she stays another night, then we’ll talk.

  “I’m going to check on Emme really quick, then I’ll be back. You need anything?”

  She shakes her head, covering her pouty lips as her mouth circles into yet another yawn. I bet she’ll be passed out before I get back.

  ***

  I can’t sleep.

  I need my pillow mountain.

  And I’m distracted by the lavender-scented beauty hogging all my covers.

  Each time she tosses and turns, the blankets wrap around her. She’s a human burrito, warm in my covers, and I’m laying here with my one flat pillow and half of my right leg under what little blankets I have left.

  If she were anyone else, I’d jerk the covers my way until they were equally proportioned, but Calypso’s had a rough day. I’ll sacrifice a little sleep so she can get hers.

  Karma.

  That’s what it is.

  Karma for all those sleepless nights.

  I turn to my side, away from Calypso. Clear my throat. Close my eyes. Attempt to shut my mind off.

  According to the alarm clock, I’ve been tossing and turning for three hours now.

  Twelve minutes pass, and I’m no closer than I was before. I roll back to my other side to come face to face with Calypso. Her face scrunches, and she slides her hand under one of my pillows and presses her cheek harder against it.

  I wonder if she always looks this pissed when she sleeps? Maybe she’s having a bad dream.

  I shut my eyes, breathing in the warm air that mixes between us.

  Emme wakes around seven. If I go to sleep now, I’ll get five hours of sleep.

  It’s freezing in here. The ceiling fan above creates a cool draft I’ve come to very much rely on, but without any covers it’s a fucking arctic tundra in here. I may as well be sleeping in an igloo tonight.

  “Crew. Go. To. Sleep.” Calypso mumbles through a clenched jaw.

  “You’re awake.”

  “You won’t stop moving.” Her eyes part. We’re side by side and face to face.

  “You’re hogging the covers.”

  She glances down, trying to pull her arms out of the little cocoon she’s tucked herself into. Adjusting the blankets a bit more, she sighs.

  “There. Sorry.”

  Our body heats mix under the covers. Warmth radiates off her. I’m not the spooning type, but damn, is it tempting.

  “You’re an ice block.” She scoots away.

  I smirk in the dark, wondering what she’d do if I shoved my ice block hands up the hem of her t-shirt.

  “I’m wide awake.” I inch toward her. Even a fraction of her heat should help me thaw out.

  She turns toward me, groaning. “Me too. Mind won’t shut off.”

  “What are you thinking about?” I’d rather lie here listening to what’s on her mind than spend another waking moment listening to the sound of silence.

  Calypso’s lips frown at the corners. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Elijah.”

  “Don’t. Want. To. Talk. About. It.”

  “Don’t give that asshole another second of your day. I’ll take care of everything tomorrow.”

  “What are you going to do?” She half-chuckles. “You live minute by minute. Going to tell me you’ve got some kind of plan?”

  “Maybe,” I lie.

  “I don’t want to drag you into any of this.”

  “I don’t mind. It’s nice not worrying about my own shit for once.” I inch closer. “Besides, I’m not scared to tell some fucking dweeb named Elijah from Cultland, USA to stay the fuck away from you.”

  She laughs. “It’s not a cult. And he’s not a dweeb.”

  “So now you’re defending him?”

  “Dweeb doesn’t quite fit him. He’s a lot of things, but not a dweeb. Do people really use that word anymore?”

  My head is sharing one of her pillows. “Probably not.”

  She stares at the ceiling, and I watch the rise and fall of her chest. She takes short, quick breaths with long ones in between. It’s like a rhythm, like her namesake.

  “Why’d your parents name you Calypso?” I ask.

  Calypso lifts her hands from under the hot covers and sighs. “It’s a dumb story.”

  “Tell me anyway.”

  Her lips tighten. “You’d have to know my parents to understand. They were so out of it. Always high on something. My father was the commune medicine man. He and my mom were so detached from reality, doing everything they could to have these dreams and visions. My mother claimed I came to her in a dream before I was born and named myself.”

  “Calypso . . . isn’t that a kind of rhythm or dance?”

  “Yeah.” She huffs. “And I’m a writer. I can’t sing or dance. I’m not musically gifted. I tried to learn the guitar one summer. That was a joke.”

  “Do you think you really came to her in a dream?”

  She laughs. “No. No, no, no.”

  “Do you still talk to them? Go back and visit often?”

  “This is going to be hard for you to understand.” She licks her lips. “But at the commune, we were like one big, giant family. The way you feel about your parents is probably different from the way I feel about mine. The attachment wasn’t there. We weren’t a family unit in the traditional sense. They were just a couple of people living their lives in a constant altered state, and I just happened to share their DNA.”

  I slip my hand beneath my head and listen as Calypso speaks so casually about something that obviously isn’t normal.

  “You’re an emotional orphan,” I say.

  “What’s that mean?”

  “Your parents abandoned you emotionally. That’s really shitty.”

  “It’s how it was. Nothing I could do about it.”

  “Who taught you about the birds and the bees? About your period? Who chased away boys when they tried to kiss you?”

  “Heaven-Love, Juniper, and Chauncey Firewater. In that order.”

  I lift a brow.

  “They lived a Shiloh Springs with me. They were my equivalent of older siblings.”

  My head shakes. A million names I could call her parents right now, but out of respect for her and her fragile state, I won’t say a single one. I bridle my anger for her sake.

  “I doubt they noticed when I left,” she says. “I gave them a note, just ‘cause it felt like the right thing to do. And I didn’t want to regret not doing it, you know?”

  Her fingers knit before picking at a loose thread in the comforter.

  “Their fucking loss.”

  “Excuse me?” Her gaze snaps to me.

  “I’d notice if you left.” I feel the need to say something to build her up. Only I mean it. “Now that I’ve met Emme, I can’t imagine not having her in my life. Guess I don’t understand.”

  Calypso rolls to her side, propping her head in her hand. “I think that’s why I wanted a family so badly. Back in Shiloh Springs. I had so much love to give and no one to give it to. No outlet for it.”

  She smiles quickly and catches a tear before it rolls down her cheek.

  “Guess everything happens for a reason, right?” She sniffs. “I’m glad I’m not there anymore. I am.”

  I’m not good with
this deep shit.

  “You’re better off here,” I say.

  I reach for her face, cupping her ear and slipping my fingers through her hair.

  “I don’t want to talk about this anymore.” Her voice breaks, her hand covering mine.

  My ears fill with the rhythmic pulsing of my heart as my gaze is fixed on her full mouth.

  “You should kiss me right now.” Her eyes search mine, and she wears the pained expression of a woman desperate to keep the hurt at bay.

  It happens so fast.

  I roll on top of her, my lips crushing hers. Calypso’s thighs straddle my hips, and her palms slide to my lower back, pressing me harder into her.

  I taste her mouth before traveling the length of her neck and stopping at the curve of her shoulder. My hands glide under the covers to yank the hem of her t-shirt higher. I slip a finger beneath the waistband of her panties, going deeper. Her warmth and wetness invites me, and I slide two fingers along her seam.

  She bites her lip, her neck arching and eyes squeezed tight.

  My cock bulges through my sweats, growing harder each time the sweet sound of her sighs fills the tight space between us.

  She didn’t come here tonight because she was afraid to be alone. She came here because she wanted to escape. She craved a release. Calypso needed to forget.

  With my fingers inside her and her body under my command, I take her away. Away from the bullshit. Away from the drama. Away from the shitty parents, stalkers, and the closing doors of the business she tried so hard to make successful.

  I take myself away too.

  Sometimes it’s fun to lose yourself in someone else. I suppose I’ve been doing it most of my adult life. When you’re focused on fucking some pretty blonde or winning the next jackpot, you don’t think about what a disappointment you are to your asshole parents or how nagging that empty feeling is at the end of the day.

  Rising on my knees, I pull her panties slowly down her thighs and lower myself. I kiss her sex, flicking and swirling. Loving the sweet taste. Her hands search for mine on top of the covers, and when they meet, our fingers interlace.

  Calypso moans, barely enough for me to hear it, but it’s there.