Wicked Flower

by Carlene Love Flores

  “I’m not letting you leave until that happens.” His chest seemed to expand, his arms bulged across it.

  Great. But what had she thought was going to happen when she finally dragged her butt back here? She’d had two extra hours to think about it sitting in her car in the drug store lot. Envisioning showing her face and playing the fool hadn’t prepared her at all for the real deal. She’d never quite gotten to the exact words to say either.

  “Come on, Daniela.” Was that caution or cockiness in his voice? She wouldn’t lie and deny how much she liked that about him when they’d kissed.

  “It’s Dani. Just Dani.”

  He seemed irritated now and not at all like the man who’d come to her rescue earlier at the truck stop. Not at all like that protective yet playful man who’d kissed her senseless ... and told her of the thing he wanted to do to her. The vulgar word he’d used that had only sounded needful, raw and honest when he’d said it into her ear and her response to him that had been more of a gut reaction than the truth. Her chest, neck and face flamed at reliving those words here at Mrs. C’s house.

  But she did live here. Full time. This was her home now.

  If she left, the back roads would be dark and hard to navigate. How close was the next round of storms? The thought of driving in lightning and hail stiffened her neck; her timing coming back just now had been pure luck. But how could she make herself stay, knowing what she’d almost done with Gina’s son? Clearly, he didn’t want her around now. Not scowling the way he was.

  Her back ached, her stomach hated her, and she really needed to get inside to her stash of Tums and the bathroom. Apparently she’d have to get through Stefan Calderon to do it.

  Could she?

  Dani would have to forget, pretend like the truck stop had never happened.

  She took a step forward, ignoring her body’s idiotic thrill at being near him again. He waited, but eventually stepped back and then aside, giving her plenty of room to pass through, just as he had earlier at the truck stop.

  When she was past that first hurdle, she only made it a few feet into the house and heard the door close behind her when she saw another man getting up from the couch. He was the man who’d been playing the Mercedes’ dashboard like the drums.

  “Hey, nice to meet you. I’m Will, um Stefan’s friend.” He offered her a hand and she saw his arms that rivaled Stefan’s for tattoos, but Will’s ended neatly at his wrists with what looked like lettered cuffs. “You’re the nurse.” His chin dipped and she could see a section of his head where his skin looked like it had been burned.

  “Dani,” she said back to the man who had an incredibly firm handshake and those same calloused hands. But his eyes, behind his glasses, they were a crisp blue and there was something unbelievably kind about them. A second into their handshake, humiliation swaddled her skin with its heat. Were Will and Stefan the kind of friends who told each other everything? Weren’t all guys?

  Before she could think about it any further, Will excused himself. “So I’m beat. Gonna go hit the sack. See you two in the morning.”

  Oh, he definitely knew something with that abrupt and presumptuous departure. The man practically flew up the stairs.

  Why couldn’t this day just end already?

  “Looks like it’s just you and me,” said Stefan.

  Oh God, the deep vibrations in his voice made it impossible to forget. She almost slipped back into the stall.

  “Yep, looks that way,” she said shortly, making her way past him to the kitchen for a glass of milk and antacids. “Is Mrs. C asleep?”

  “Yes.” He just stood there.

  Who would break first?

  He followed behind her when she took her first few steps, which she felt the whole way.

  “So, about the truck stop,” she couldn’t help but say because apparently she was now a masochist.

  In the open space of the kitchen, Dani realized just how massive he was. Mrs. C always made the refrigerator look huge when she stood near it, but her son was taller than the old thing and his shoulders just as solid.

  “Yeah, about that,” he said back and rubbed behind his neck.

  Famous last words from the dumper to the dumpee. She’d heard it before.

  It all sounded like one big, bad ass joke to Dani who had no idea how she’d gotten through the day but was ready for it to be over. She’d deal with Gina’s famous rocker son tomorrow. Because right now, in all honesty, she couldn’t take being one more person’s regret. Her tears wouldn’t do either one of them any good. Besides, he still hadn’t changed back into her brown-eyed, albeit bad-ass Superman, able to lift spirits with a single kiss.

  She sighed.

  If she had anything left in the tank right now, she’d guess he had a bone to pick with her. So did the baby because Dani felt like throwing up. She rubbed her stomach. Stefan’s eyes followed. Of course, because this day just won’t end…

  ****

  “I have a bone to pick with you.”

  She rolled her eyes and walked right past him, faster than he’d expected. He knew better when a woman did that than to follow after her. Stefan was so mind-fucked right now that he wouldn’t have followed that woman into paradise if she’d been naked and leading him with a collar. He let her pass as had become their apparent custom. But a second later he heard the distinct sound of retching.

  Unsure about most things happening in his mom’s house right now, he gave up and walked into the kitchen. He remembered Dani’s day had started with being dumped. Contrary to what many might think, he did have a heart. He’d never been more sincere than when he’d invited her for dinner earlier.

  From out of nowhere a very confusing image popped into his head. A paper heart. And a little girl with long black curly hair who handed the pink construction paper cutout card to him. No, come on, really? He rubbed his eyelids.

  Another heave into the kitchen sink pulled his attention back.

  “You okay in there?”

  “No,” she croaked out. “Don’t.” More heaving.

  Stefan swallowed. Once he was at her side, he pulled her hair back, twirled it into a knot around his fingers and held it in a loose fist. “You’re sick.”

  “I’m not sick. I’m pregnant. And I’ll be fine.”

  Chapter Seven

  Mind, blank.

  Thoughts, gone.

  Seconds, wasted.

  Fuck, the number of times he’d heard the pregnancy line. But this was different. It hadn’t been months since they’d hooked up. Shit, they hadn’t even hooked up. Then, he realized.

  “Oh sweetheart,” he started but she held up her hand to stop him and shook her head. “Your ex?”

  “Oh my God, I don’t want to talk about it. Can’t,” she said coolly.

  Her face said she was feeling beat down, to the bone. What the hell could he say to help?

  “You know I was supposed to be pissed at my mom’s live-in helper.” He thought about the long, silky black curls in his hand and how amazing they would feel spilled over his chest. “You’re not fighting fair,” he said, leaning closer so only she could know this truth. “I don’t think there’s any way I could possibly yell at you now.” Just like earlier, he found it impossible not to seal up the rest of the space between them. He laid his hand over hers where it was cemented to the kitchen sink ledge. Her shoulders kept hiking up with each breath. He wouldn’t have yelled but she didn’t know that. Come on, just a tiny hint of a smile? Please?

  She twisted her head and glared with her eyebrows drawing in together. Didn’t say anything though. A second later she twisted away again and turned on the faucet, cupped some water in her hands and rinsed her mouth. He let the fist of her hair loosen so that he was only holding the ends back for her. The lightly tanned skin of her neck moving as she swallowed a fresh handful of water got to him. If he let it, his body would harden and mock him while he spent the rest of the night fighting this insane need to be her proof again. No, it didn’t hel
p picturing her sleeping in his old bed. Maybe it would be better to be pissed at her over the stupid curry. Because what the hell was his other choice? He shouldn’t bed his mother’s caregiver. Pregnant caregiver. Fuck, it dawned on him that he paid this girl her salary. He didn’t need anyone’s genius brains to figure the rest out.

  No wonder she’d run out on him earlier and hadn’t been too keen on coming back just now.

  “I’m glad you’re here,” she said in a monotonous voice. “Your mom’s been looking forward to this. I hope you have a really good visit with her.” With that, she pulled and reclaimed the last strands of her hair he’d been holding onto. A few strands stayed tied between his fingers. She then shuffled past him and disappeared from the kitchen.

  He stood there leaning against the kitchen counter, at a loss, but aware she needed space.

  Fifteen minutes later, she came down the stairs with a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Clearly she wasn’t letting him get a word in edgewise. “Your mom has my cell number. If she needs anything, just call—”

  “Really? That’s it, you’re leaving?”

  They couldn’t figure something better out? He also didn’t like her carrying heavy shopping and duffel bags. “Give me your bag,” he said. She did not like that. At. All.

  She stalled and worked her lips with her teeth from the inside. “Your mom knows when she needs her meds but it’s written on the refrigerator too. Don’t let her miss the blood pressure pills. There are dishes in the freezer for the next few days. The plain, heart healthy stuff I’ve been making her is getting old so I’ve got a few tastier things I’m trying out. Anyway, the laundry is done.” She was looking in his direction but speaking right through him, as if he didn’t exist as a flesh and blood man, hanging on her every word. He felt like a total piece of shit, not to mention a fool. “Let me know a day or so before you leave town and I’ll come back. Like I said, enjoy your time.” She set her bag down on the small kitchen table and pulled out an unsealed envelope, pushing it toward him. “And here.”

  “What‘s this?” Obviously it was a wad of cash but…

  “It’s two weeks’ worth of wages for home care for your mom.”

  “Come on, Dani. You’re killing me. Is this necessary?” And then the five hundredth ball of their short time together dropped. She had no idea he wanted to take his mom back to Nashville. No idea she’d be out of a job if he did that. Fuck the living shit out of me, he silently cursed and closed his eyes hard. She has a baby on the way.

  “What do you think?” she asked and then turned to leave.

  This time how could he not put his hands on her? “You think I’m really letting you walk out that door?” he asked and grabbed the bend of her elbow.

  “Yeah, I do. Don’t touch me again.” She looked down.

  The steam in her voice acted like a bolt cutter and he let her go in an instant. He’d never held a woman against her will and wasn’t starting now. Funny that was exactly what every fiber of his being demanded he do. “All right, no touching.” He held his hands up.

  She left the room.

  After a few heartbeats, he followed, still unable to just let her be. He wouldn’t lie either, she had the uncanny ability to walk away from him and it drove him crazy.

  “Wherever you’re going, is it far?” He hated using the mom card but Dani was leaving him no choice. “In case my mom needs something and I can’t take care of it for her.” It became abundantly clear that he had no idea what this might be. Mom had looked pretty stable but she needed a live-in nurse for a reason and Stefan hadn’t as much as babysat for Jaxon. His repertoire of caring for someone included rubbing oil over a lover’s skin fresh from a bath not being a steadying hand as his mom got in and out of the shower. He’d do it if needed but could guarantee he’d fail miserably. Not to mention how Mom would feel about it.

  He watched Dani’s head dip forward and from behind all he could see was that her hands went up to rub at her temples. “She does get dizzy some days. But that’s usually when they adjust her blood pressure dosage. Just keep an eye on her near the stairs and when she’s showering. And no lifting things or reaching over her bed. The stress is too much on her bones.”

  “Please stay, Dani. My mom obviously needs you here. A lot more than she needs me.”

  She shook her head. “I’ll be at my sister’s. Mrs. C knows Daisy’s address in case of an emergency.”

  If her intention was to make him feel distant, she’d done it.

  She opened the front door to the house and closed it behind her without making a sound. He hated that shit worst of all.

  The hell she was heading out into the dark out here in the hills and woods, pregnant. He’d chase her down and yell at her for being so damn stubborn if he had to.

  “Will,” he called.

  Will ducked his head out at the top of the stairs. “Yeah man?”

  “You okay with my mom for a bit? I fucked up and Dani’s taking off.”

  “I thought you were gonna be nice. But yeah, I’m good with Mom. Go get your nurse.”

  “That’s the plan,” Stefan said then grabbed his keys out of his jeans pocket and went out quickly. Luckily she’d had to let her old car warm up before taking off. His brilliant plan was to follow her taillights to wherever she went and convince her to come back. However loudly he had to do it. She’d hear him out and get her ass back here. He sucked in some air and then forced it back out, unaccustomed to this kind of chase.

  “Damn, less than twenty-four fricking hours I’ve been home,” he muttered to himself as his engine purred to life and he turned the wipers to full blast. “And it ain’t even over. Not by a long shot.” He couldn’t help but think things would have been better had he stayed gone.

  Chapter Eight

  Dani pulled into the Walton’s Drug Store parking lot which had begun to feel like her home away from home after today. The lot was lit. The store was open twenty-four hours. And the best part … it was quiet. And Stefan-free.

  Just a peaceful rain breaking through the night sky at the moment. A crackle of lightning sparked every now and then in the distant mountains.

  With the windows up, she let the fan run while the engine idled, hoping the air wouldn’t become stagnant as soon as she turned off the car. Five minutes later and that’s exactly what happened. Her stomach also chose to gurgle, sounding even more dramatic out in the quiet night.

  “Let’s see if we can find you something good for a change, little one.”

  Dani touched her window, tracing a stream of raindrops and grabbed her coat. Obviously, this was all being done as a distraction to the scene she’d just left behind. She bundled herself up and then rubbed at her belly. She made her way inside to the small refrigerated section of the drug store and pulled out a small jug of whole milk and a package of string cheese. She started to make her way to the front of the store to the checkout area but decided she had some time to kill since she was in no way heading back to Mrs. C’s anytime soon. Two weeks he’d be there, she reminded herself. But really, she had no idea how she’d stay gone that long. She loved Gina like a mom. She’d call Daisy in the morning to see about shacking up for now and figure the rest out later. Yeah, her pain and humiliation was that bad.

  “Congratulations May 25th. You won. Now please leave me alone,” she grumbled out. An employee straightening shelves hiked his eyebrows at her.

  Dani twisted her mouth, ignored him, and found the magazines. She never bought any of this stuff because let’s face it, she didn’t have money to waste, especially after the self-imposed pay cut she’d just given herself. But her browsing always began at hairstyles, then fashion and without fail, ended on the manly fitness magazines with the buffed-out, cut-steel physiques of male body builders. But tucked behind the Glazmo issues, she spied the heading for Guitar Freaks and the unmistakable jagged heart of the Sin Pointe logo. She grabbed it out of pure curiosity.

  Stefan Calderon’s deep, dark honey gaze, made all t
he more intense rimmed by smudged black liner, tormented her like the silly magazine cover had magical powers. In his hands, he held of all things, a white guitar. A bass, she supposed, since that’s what the article title said. The thumb and pointer finger of his right hand rested over two of the lower strings while his left cupped it at the top near the neck by a pearly butterfly logo. Clearly, he loved his instrument by the way he gazed down at his hands on it.

  She knew the feeling of those hands. That gaze. Those rough fingertips.

  Dani nearly dropped the magazine and went to put it back down but couldn’t. This was a part of him she didn’t know anything about. She read the cover headline again. It said there was an interview with “A rare breed, the bass playing lead singer.”

  Eager to find out more, she thumbed to Stefan’s article where a few of his statements had been set apart from the rest of the text. Her eyes went to those first.

  “The trick is to sing melodies that are in rhythm with the bass. Once you figure that out, it’s not too hard to sing and play. Nah, that’s a lie. It’s still hard as shit but it’s my thing so I practice. A lot.”

  He was a hard worker and cared about something. She could have guessed at that.

  “No idea where that one got started. There are plenty of better places I can think of to do that than on a bean bag.”

  Oh, she was going to have to read this entire article and find out what that snippet was about. But before she folded it closed, she saw this last one.

  “I guess I am famous for saying that. Shit, we all have regrets, right?”

  The glossy magazine cost as much as her milk but this was going to be her distraction for the next few hours. And even though she knew that man, intimately in a way, she didn’t recognize him at all. Dressed head to toe in tight white clothing that showed every contour of every muscle on his long body, his dark waves she knew to be soft to the touch looked more like wild barbed wire. This Stefan Calderon seemed unreal. But his words, those were unmistakably human.